Lin Zhiwei guarded the small community canteen of the old gear factory, with a bowl of soft tofu and a few old meal tickets that had been polished, and lived with a group of old people who had been left behind by time.
The restaurant chain giant came in with a standardized plan to bid, replacing this pyrotechnic restaurant with a central kitchen for catering.
Some people say that human power cannot remember the taboos of hundreds of old people, and standardization is the future; but she insists on keeping the fireworks under the copper faucet.
The taciturn man who delivered the meal, who was deaf in his right ear, stood beside her and accompanied her to keep the silent meal tickets one after another.
The result of the bidding is pending, and the past hidden in his gestures is gradually surfacing.
