"I'm twenty-six this year."
"I want a visible future, not a pie in your mouth."
"My pie?"
Jiang Li's voice trembled.
"I said, as long as we work hard..."
"Effort?"
Lin Yue smiled, with a hint of pity.
"Your efforts are just to earn a dead salary of 6,000 yuan in this small, broken company and work overtime until eleven every day?"
"Your efforts are just to watch the house price rise from 10,000 to 30,000, and then comfort me and say we will wait?" "Your efforts are to give me a 'light luxury' bag bought on Taobao even for my birthday?
