“Lin Chen, this report has to be turned in before you leave today. The group is waiting for it, so don’t drag your feet.”
The sharp, impatient voice above me pulled me out of my daze. I looked up and met Manager Zhang Wei’s face, which practically screamed, “I’m your father.”
I cursed him inwardly, but still forced a smile. “Sure, Manager Zhang. I’ll get right on it.”
Zhang Wei gave a nasal “Mm,” held his head high, and strolled back to his private office with his hands behind his back. My coworker Li Hao leaned over and whispered, “He dumped more work on you again? Isn’t this report due next week?”
“Who knows what’s gotten into him?” I sighed, rubbed my tired eyes, and turned back to the computer screen.
There was absolutely nothing to look forward to in this life. Every day, I squeezed onto the subway during rush hour, came to the office to deal with a pile of garbage data, put up with a stupid boss and coworkers who did nothing all day, and earned just enough not to starve, but nowhere near enough to get rich. Sometimes I really wondered what the point of being alive was.
Just as I stared at the Excel spreadsheet on my screen, feeling like my eyeballs were about to turn into a pair of spinning chrysanthemums, something bizarre happened.
The moment Zhang Wei’s chubby figure disappeared through the office doorway, a pale blue information box suddenly appeared before my eyes, hovering over the glass partition that marked his office, like something from a video game.
[Zhang Wei’s Office]
[Note: A cage where an arrogant fatso goes to show off his status. The most valuable thing inside is that bottle of fake Moutai.]
I blinked, thinking I was seeing things after working too much overtime.
