The No-Blind-Dates Goddess System

The rain had just stopped, and the streetlights cast a hazy glow.

Wu Ping crouched beside a flower bed. Water was still dripping from his delivery uniform, and there was enough in his helmet to raise fish. The braised pork in his plastic lunchbox had gone cold, and the fat had congealed into a layer of white wax. He prodded it with his chopsticks. The piece of fatty meat wobbled.

He'd completed forty-seven deliveries today and earned 284 yuan. He had 832 yuan in his pocket. Rent of 1,200 yuan was due in three days. He owed 3,400 yuan on Huabei.

A crack ran across his phone screen from left to right, right over the WeChat icon, like a scar.

His phone rang. Two characters appeared on the screen: He Fang.

Wu Ping's hand froze. They hadn't spoken in three days. Last time, she'd said she was working overtime and told him not to call. He'd believed her then.

Wu Ping.

Yeah?

Let's break up.

His chopsticks fell to the ground. They were plastic, so they made a faint sound. He didn't pick them up.