81 posts tagged with "Society"

On the day the CPPCC meeting closed, the sky in Beijing was as gray as a crumpled old newspaper. I walked slowly along Chang'an Avenue, my tail dragging listlessly on the ground. Actually, I'm not human, I'm a cat, a gray and white stray that's been wandering this city for who knows how long.

Someone said that this year's agenda included the issue of basic pensions for peasants, saying it would be raised to 600 yuan. Six hundred yuan, I tilted my head, what kind of concept is that? How many cans of cat food could it buy? Or, how many decent nights could it provide, without having to rummage through garbage cans for rotten fish bones?

The spring of 2024 arrived with more clamor than usual.

The sky was as gloomy as a rag soaked in ink, pressing down on the city of Beiping like a gray haze. Pedestrians on the street huddled in their clothes, hurrying along, afraid of being chilled by the cold weather. The teahouse on the roadside, however, was bustling with activity, filled with the sound of voices, the aroma of tea, and a mix of idle chatter.

Lao Li stared at the number on the screen, his brows furrowed like a twisted rope.

Old Wang rubbed his hands together, bowing three times to the dark, hulking "Kitchen God" in the kitchen. It wasn't a wooden statue, nor a printed New Year picture, but a smart speaker with a screen.

Old Wang, the Stove God, has been very bothered lately. The Jade Emperor approved his descent to investigate public sentiment, euphemistically calling it "experiencing the human touch." He was overjoyed, thinking he'd see wisps of smoke rising from chimneys and hear cheerful laughter. But what did he find? On his first day, he was almost run over by a food delivery guy.

He transformed into a middle-aged programmer named Wang Ming, who was woken up by his alarm clock at 7:30 AM every morning. He'd hastily shove a few bites of bread into his mouth, then squeeze onto the subway to begin his daily "cultivation." Wang Ming’s "workstation" was in a transparent glass cubicle. He could see everyone in the cubicles across from him buried in their work, with only the clatter of keyboards rising and falling.

"Gold, it's gone up again today!"

Old Wang muttered to himself, holding his thermos mug, staring at the glaring numbers on the computer screen. He worked at "Gleaming Gold" company, whose main business was gold jewelry. But Old Wang wasn't a designer, nor a salesperson; he was just an ordinary clerk in charge of data entry. His daily task was to input the real-time gold prices and inventory data of various jewelry items into the company's internal network system.

Old Liu has been working at his company for almost ten years. He hasn't been promoted, nor has he gotten a raise, but he has developed a "highway" on his hairline. He feels like a screw, fastened in some corner of a huge machine, humming monotonously day after day. Recently, the company launched a "skills certification," ostensibly to "improve the comprehensive quality of employees," but in reality, it was preparing for "downsizing and elimination."

Old Liu isn't worried. He's a Tsinghua master's graduate, a top scorer in the college entrance exam back in the day. He's confident that this certification will impress the leaders. However, the subjects of the certification are baffling: excavator operation, car repair, and cooking skills. Old Liu is dumbfounded. He majored in computer science, so he's good at coding, but wielding a wrench is beyond him.

Old Wang opened a lotus root cake shop in an urban village. It was small, just a fryer and two tables. His lotus root cakes were crispy and delicious, famous far and wide. Every evening, a long queue formed outside the shop, filled with the warmth of everyday life.

“蛇年春晚，一切蛇么都好！”这是总导演在动员大会上喊出的口号。老王作为道具组的小组长，被这口号震得虎躯一震。这蛇年，真是处处都透着一股子邪性。