The Appliances of This Generation All Want to Be My Dad

My name is Zhang Jiujin. I'm a chronic obsessive-compulsive who makes a living measuring things with laser levels.

One day, I took a job evaluating a smart villa for 8,888 yuan a day. The client's requirements were clearly listed:

"Check every day that the floor tile grout lines are equally spaced."

"Make sure the toilet seat is axially symmetrical with the tile pattern."

"If you find anything imperfect, immediately trigger the doomsday alarm."

As I lined up my calipers to measure a 0.3-degree tilt in a living-room painting, the smart toilet, encrusted with Swarovski crystals, suddenly started dancing.

It bounced up and down to "The Most Dazzling Folk Style," spraying lavender-scented disinfectant:

"Bachelor detected. We have booked you a route to the marriage registration office."

The villa's robot vacuum calls me "Dad" in a Henan accent, the air purifier sprays concentrated Americano, and whenever the fridge door swings open, it hurls a copy of Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Practice.

Worst of all is the mind-reading AI butler.

Whenever I try to crack the safe, every appliance in the house automatically plays a DJ remix of "The Great Compassion Mantra." The bulletproof glass instantly turns into an LED message wall: "Thief alert! Glass-cleaning performance artist spotted in Building Three!"

When I finally break into the secret room, I find an entire wall lined with 200 unopened antibacterial toilet seats.

The crystal USB drive at the center contains the memory fragments of a female scientist who disappeared ten years ago:

"All the appliances are putting on an act for you."

"Find the woman wearing Pikachu pajamas."

"Don't trust the countdown..."

Now, my smart wristband is broadcasting a global alert:

"Human...