I Am Yang Fan and Set Sail in the Business War

Beijing in July is like a huge and hot tin can. Yang Fan dragged his heavy suitcase and was "vomited" out of the huge mouth of Beijing West Railway Station that swallowed up the crowds of people. He was instantly enveloped in a heat wave that contained car exhaust, sweat, and some kind of indescribable anxiety. The heat was not the humid stuffiness of the South, but dry, hard, and gritty. It smeared roughly on his face, got into his collar, and stuck to the back of his thin T-shirt. Sweat immediately poured out from his forehead and temples, forming a small stream and winding down. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.