Setting: A cozy apartment in Shanghai on the morning of Chinese New Year. Steam rises from a kettle, and red lanterns hang by the window. Two friends — Lili, who is superstitious, and Jing, a rational thinker — sit on a couch sipping tea.
Lili: (clutching a red envelope and looking horrified)
Jing! Please tell me you didn’t just wash your hair this morning?!
Jing: (laughs, flipping wet hair with dramatic flair)
Guilty as charged. What, is the Hair Luck Police coming for me?
Lili: I told you — you’re not supposed to wash your hair on New Year’s Day! You’ll wash away all your luck for the year!
Jing: Lili, you know I love you, but that makes about as much sense as not eating dumplings because they look like silver ingots. Oh wait… you believe that one too.
Lili: Of course I do! Dumplings bring prosperity! You’re supposed to eat them, not avoid them! Don’t mess with the food logic.
Jing: Okay, fair. I’ll give you dumplings — they’re delicious, if nothing else. But explain this hair thing. I need the full Lili Lecture.
Lili: Fine! In Chinese, the word for “hair” — 发 (fà) — is the same as in 发财 (fā cái), meaning “to get rich.” If you wash your fa, you wash away your fā cái! It’s word magic!
Jing: Word magic? That’s like saying I won’t eat lettuce because “lettuce” in Cantonese sounds like “rising fortune.” Oh wait, people do that too.
Lili: Exactly! We don’t mess with traditions! You don’t want to tempt the universe!
Jing: But the universe doesn’t care about puns, Lili! Do you really think your financial future depends on shampoo?
Lili: (defensive)
Don’t underestimate the power of intention. My Aunt Mei once washed her hair on New Year’s Day, and that year she slipped on a fish bone and had to get stitches. Coincidence?
Jing: I think the lesson there is “Don’t run with fish bones,” not “Avoid head hygiene.”
Lili: It’s not just about the hair! It’s about respecting the flow of fortune. You cleanse before the New Year, then preserve the good vibes.
Jing: I did cleanse! I deep-cleaned my apartment, threw out old receipts, even aired out my duvet. That’s symbolic too, right?
Lili: Yes, before the New Year starts! Today is for enjoying, not scrubbing away your future!
Jing: But scientifically speaking, washing your hair doesn’t affect luck. It’s scalp care. If bacteria were currency, I’d be a millionaire not washing it.
Lili: So science can explain everything, huh?
Jing: Not everything. But it’s more reliable than Aunt Mei’s fishbone fortune-telling. Look, I’m not saying traditions are bad. I eat tangerines and hang up 春联 just like you. But let’s not confuse cultural symbolism with actual causality.
Lili: But these customs keep us connected to our roots. They make me feel safe, like I’m honoring my grandma and her grandma before her.
Jing: And that’s beautiful. I respect that. Honestly. But feeling connected doesn’t mean every superstition has real-world consequences. I want you to feel empowered — not terrified of conditioner.
Lili: (laughs)
Okay, maybe I am a little dramatic. But you have to admit, your hair does look like it just scared away a few lucky spirits.
Jing: They’ll come back. I left out oranges and even wore red underwear. I’m covered, trust me.
Lili: Fine, Miss Rational. Wash your hair. But if you lose your job or step in dog poop this week, I’m blaming Garnier.
Jing: Deal. But if I win the lottery, I expect a formal apology… with dumplings.
Lili: (grinning)
You’re on. Just don’t forget the sweet rice balls. Those do bring family harmony.
Jing: That, I can get behind. Let’s eat. But I’m bringing science to the dinner table.
Lili: And I’ll bring the red envelopes — full of superstitious blessings.
Science Vs Superstition 
Tell Us What You Think