Old Wang was holding a bowl of instant noodles, his eyes glued to the screen. The Spring Festival Gala was in the middle of a skit, Shen Teng's familiar face contorted as he tried to elicit laughter from the audience. But Old Wang thought this year's skit seemed a bit weak, the jokes were awkward, even forced. He put down his chopsticks, picked up the remote, and habitually opened the bullet comments.
Old Wang was known as "Mr. Standard" at work. His life, just like his punctual 7:30 am clock-in every morning, was precise and meticulous. He loved rules, viewing them as the lighthouse guiding his life's voyage. This was not only reflected in his work but also in every detail of his life. For instance, he used the same needle every day to pierce the same capsule, extracting the fish oil inside, and then precisely dripping it into his morning oatmeal. This was his health regimen he had adhered to for twenty years.
This morning, as usual, he took out the polished steel needle, ready to pierce today's capsule. However, when the needle tip touched the capsule shell, it felt like hitting steel, unable to penetrate at all. Old Wang frowned, carefully inspecting the needle, the tip was intact, neither bent nor broken. He tried again at a different angle, but still, it didn't work. The capsule seemed to be enveloped by an invisible barrier, impenetrable.
The willows by the pond drooped their heads, as if watching a silent pantomime.
Li Ming posted a moment, the content of which was very simple: The weather is really nice today.