Three Topics of Working Novels
About This Novel
Yehua carried his luggage, snapped his fingers in a pretentious manner, and then pushed up the myopia glasses on his nose as usual. He looked up at the factory where he had worked for five years, and walked out of the factory with a wry smile on his face and shook his head. He really couldn't imagine that a bullshit manager would fire him for a Hunan girl. If I had known this, I wish I hadn't talked about that Hunan girl yesterday afternoon. But then I thought: As a team leader, can I do it without saying a few words to employees who leave early for no reason during working hours? Yehua always felt in his heart that he was right, and his mistake was that the Hunan girl and that bullshit manager had such a good hand. Yehua returned to the simple little room he rented. A small window at the door let in a weak light and shone on the bed. A small wooden bench lay lying across a wooden plank that served as a table. It must have been a mess left by the rush to work in the morning.
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