平行履历 [科幻短篇小说] | Parallel Resume [Sci-Fi Short Story]
2026-06-16 | WDSEGA
林嘉收到系统通知是在周三下午三点，窗外的梧桐正在掉叶子，叶子砸在窗台上的声音像是有人在轻轻叩门。
通知写着：「您的平行履历评估已完成。检测到7条高概率平行路径。是否查看？」
她点了确认。
屏幕上出现了七个她。
【平行路径 #1 — 概率：31.4%】
2019年，林嘉没有拒绝北京那家初创公司的offer，而是接受了。
那家公司后来在2021年拿到了B轮，2023年被字节收购。这个版本的林嘉现在是字节旗下某部门的产品总监，年薪在百万出头，每周飞一次上海，孩子由保姆带。
系统备注：「该路径下您在2024年诊断出中度焦虑症，目前处于药物维持阶段。」
【平行路径 #2 — 概率：19.2%】
2021年，林嘉没有辞职回乡照顾父亲，而是留在了上海。
父亲的病在这条路径里更快恶化，林嘉没能见到最后一面。她在2022年底转行做了职业规划师，帮别人规划她自己没走过的路。
系统备注：「该路径下您的内疚感指数长期偏高。但职业满意度评分为78/100，高于当前路径的63分。」
林嘉盯着”63分”，盯了很久。
【平行路径 #3 — 概率：8.7%】
2018年，林嘉选择了继续读博，而不是找工作。
这条路径的她现在是一所普通高校的讲师，正在评中级职称，工资不高，但每年有三个月写论文的时间，养了一只橘猫叫”定积分”。
系统备注：「该路径下您的幸福感评分为81/100。财富积累指数为当前路径的29%。」
林嘉翻了很久，一直翻到第七条路径，那是一条概率只有0.3%的路径——
2016年，林嘉去了西藏支教，在那里待了三年，之后什么都没有做，在大理租了一间民宿，过着她父亲从来没见过的那种生活。
系统备注：「该路径下无可追踪的职业数据。财富积累接近于零。健康指数97/100。社会连接指数94/100。」
林嘉把屏幕关掉，然后打开，又关掉。
她旁边的同事何佳问：”在看什么呢，这么认真。”
“一个测试。”
“测什么的？”
“测你有多少种可能性，”林嘉说，”然后告诉你它们的价格。”
何佳皱眉：”价格？”
“每条路径都有评分，有的拿钱多，有的幸福指数高，有的都一般但是健康。系统帮你算清楚，然后让你’知情选择’。”
“那不挺好的？”
林嘉没有立刻回答。
窗外的梧桐叶子还在掉，落在窗台上，又被风刮走，落向不知道哪里。
“你有没有想过，”她最后说，”知道了所有路的价格，你反而不知道怎么走了。”
何佳想了一下：”这不就是人生吗，知道太多反而是负担。”
“对，”林嘉点头，”但以前你不知道，是因为算不出来。现在算出来了。”
她把手机翻过去，屏幕朝下。
通知在锁屏外显示：「您还有6条路径未查看。是否继续？」
她没有点。
那天下班的路上，林嘉经过一家书店，进去买了一本没有目录的诗集。
收银台的老板是个白头发的老太太，把书用牛皮纸包好，递给她，说：”这本没有目录，你买这个是为了跳着看，还是从头读？”
林嘉想了想，说：”从头读。”
老太太点头，露出一个说不清是赞许还是同情的表情：
“那就挺好的。”
本文首发于 wdsega.github.io
Parallel Resume [Sci-Fi Short Story]
Lin Jia received the system notification at 3 PM on a Wednesday. Through the window, sycamore leaves were falling, tapping against the windowsill with sounds like someone gently knocking on a door.
The notification read: “Your parallel resume evaluation is complete. 7 high-probability parallel paths detected. View now?”
She tapped confirm.
Seven versions of herself appeared on the screen.
[Parallel Path #1 — Probability: 31.4%]
In 2019, Lin Jia didn’t reject the offer from that Beijing startup. She accepted.
The company landed a Series B in 2021, got acquired by ByteDance in 2023. This version of her is now a product director at a ByteDance subsidiary. Annual salary just over a million RMB. Weekly flights to Shanghai. Child raised by a nanny.
System note: In this path, you were diagnosed with moderate anxiety disorder in 2024. Currently maintained with medication.
[Parallel Path #2 — Probability: 19.2%]
In 2021, Lin Jia didn’t quit to go home and care for her father. She stayed in Shanghai.
Her father’s illness deteriorated faster in this path. She didn’t make it back in time. By late 2022, she had changed careers — she became a career consultant, helping others navigate paths she herself had never walked.
System note: Your guilt index in this path remains persistently elevated. However, career satisfaction scores 78/100 — higher than your current path’s 63.
Lin Jia stared at “63” for a long time.
[Parallel Path #3 — Probability: 8.7%]
In 2018, Lin Jia chose to continue her PhD instead of entering the workforce.
This version of her is now a lecturer at an ordinary university, working toward an intermediate title, salary modest, but with three months per year to write papers. She has an orange cat named “Definite Integral.”
System note: Happiness score in this path: 81/100. Wealth accumulation: 29% of your current path.
Lin Jia kept scrolling. All the way to the seventh path — probability only 0.3%.
In 2016, Lin Jia went to Tibet to teach. Stayed three years. Afterward she did nothing in particular — rented a guesthouse in Dali and lived the kind of life her father had never witnessed.
System note: No trackable career data in this path. Wealth accumulation near zero. Health index: 97/100. Social connection index: 94/100.
She closed the screen. Opened it. Closed it again.
Her colleague He Jia looked over. “What are you looking at so intently?”
“A test.”
“Testing what?”
“How many possibilities you have,” Lin Jia said. “Then it tells you their price.”
He Jia frowned. “Price?”
“Each path has scores. Some paths make more money. Some score higher on happiness. Some are just average but you stay healthier. The system calculates it all, then lets you make an ‘informed choice.’”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
Lin Jia didn’t answer immediately.
Outside, sycamore leaves kept falling — landing on the windowsill, then getting carried off by wind, somewhere unknown.
“Have you ever considered,” she finally said, “that once you know the price of every road, you don’t know how to walk anymore?”
He Jia thought about it. “Isn’t that just life? Knowing too much is a burden.”
“Right,” Lin Jia nodded. “Except before, you didn’t know because you couldn’t calculate it. Now it can be calculated.”
She flipped her phone face-down.
The locked screen displayed: “You have 6 more paths to view. Continue?”
She didn’t tap.
On the walk home, Lin Jia passed a bookstore and went inside. She bought a poetry collection with no table of contents.
The cashier was an old woman with white hair. She wrapped the book in brown paper and handed it over. “This one has no table of contents,” she said. “Are you buying it to skip around, or to read from the start?”
Lin Jia considered this. “From the start.”
The old woman nodded — an expression that could have been approval or sympathy, it was hard to tell.
“That’s quite good, then.”
Originally published at wdsega.github.io