"Accountant Ma, this is the bill for last month's manicure supplies. Can you check it?"
Xiao Lin, the front desk clerk of Nancheng's "Prosperous Fingertips" nail salon, had the usual admiration in his eyes when he pushed a stack of receipts in front of Ma Ruiwen. Thirty-year-old Ma Ruiwen wore a pressed white shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his forearm, revealing an old mechanical watch on his wrist - the hands on the dial moved more accurately than the quartz clock in the store. He held the calculator in his left hand, and the pen tip of his right hand hung on the receipt. When his eyes glanced at the words "32 bottles of nail polish, unit price 85 yuan," he frowned slightly.
"Xiao Lin, there were 28 bottles of nail polish put into the warehouse last week. I signed the supplier's delivery note, and there are 4 more bottles here." Ma Ruiwen's voice was steady, without any waves, but Xiao Lin panicked instantly. His fingertips were on the edge of the document, and his nails were neatly trimmed - as a nail salon accountant, he even maintained "professional standards" for his nails, let alone the accounts.
