"Ding dong! You have a new takeout order for a certain group, please process it in time!"
The harsh electronic sound rang out in the narrow rental house in the urban village, startling Qiu out of his half-dream.
He sat up in a hurry, grabbed the old mobile phone with a broken screen like a spider web by the bedside, and swiped his finger on the screen to take the order.
"Fuck, the order is only twenty yuan, and the delivery fee is three and a half yuan." Qiu muttered, but there was no emotion in his eyes.
To him, no matter how small a mosquito is, it is still meat.
Life is all saved one dollar at a time.
In autumn, at the age of twenty-two, I have graduated from my senior year and am a delivery rider for a certain group.
This is just his apparent identity.
His true identity is the last "Destined Judge" in the world.
He neatly put on the yellowed takeout uniform, grabbed a cold steamed bun on the table, stuffed it into his mouth, and hurried downstairs.
Parked downstairs was the guy he was eating with - a second-hand battery car that made all the noise except the bell.
I got on the car, put on my helmet, and turned the handlebars. The battery car let out an overwhelmed groan and slowly rushed into the early morning mist.
The pick-up point is a soy milk shop open 24 hours a day.
"Boss, is the order with the last number 7758 ready?" Qiu Qiu parked the car and called into the store.
The boss was a chubby middle-aged man. He handed him the packaged soy milk and fried dough sticks with quick hands and feet, "Okay, okay, I'm waiting for you, Xiaoqiu."
Qiu took the meal and habitually opened a special software on his mobile phone.
The software icon is a simple "ling" character, but when you click it, the interface looks like a calculator.
He pointed his cell phone camera at his boss.
