Outside a dilapidated house on the outskirts of Qiantang County, most of the old elm trees were knocked down by the night rain and turned into dark green paste in the mud. The door panel of the west wing squeaked, and Zongzheng suddenly sat up from the straw couch. The cold sweat on his forehead instantly soaked his burlap shirt.
His nose was filled with the musty smell and the bitterness of herbs, mixed with the fishy smell of earth after the rain. The strange smell made his stomach churn. He subconsciously touched the pillow, but did not touch the smartphone that had been with him for three years. Last night, he was still facing the screen in the hotel room, checking word for word the water pressure data of the new smart toilet seat in the test customer's report. The customer was a difficult owner and demanded that the "pulse mode" experience be described more delicately than the kiss of first love.
"Hiss—" There was a dull pain in the back of his head. He raised his hand to rub it, and his fingertips touched a wound wrapped in linen, which was sticky and looked like a scab.
