In the middle of summer in Jiangcheng, the sun at two o'clock in the afternoon was so fierce that it was almost scorching. The asphalt road surface was covered with heat waves, and even the air had a dull burning sensation. The sycamore branches and leaves on the street were drooping, and there was not even a decent shade left.
Lin Chen rode a second-hand electric bicycle with mottled paint and peeling paint in many places, desperately shuttling through the crowded traffic. His blue take-out clothes, which had been washed white and wrinkled, had long been soaked with dense sweat and clung to his back, outlining his lean but well-hidden muscular body. The broken hair on his forehead was wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead. He didn't bother to raise his hand to wipe it, his eyes were fixed on the navigation interface of his mobile phone. His fingertips clenched the car handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Every minute and every second, he was racing against the timeout countdown.
There were two completely different meals in the basket. One was a filet mignon set meal customized by the Genting Hotel. The black gold packaging was exquisite and elegant. The red letters in the order remarks column were particularly eye-catching: If you exceed the limit by one second, you will reject it directly. If you complain to the end, you will be responsible for the consequences. The word "Zhao Tianyu" is clearly written in the column of the person who placed the order. The other was a cheap egg fried rice that cost three yuan a portion, packed in the most ordinary transparent plastic box. This was the lunch he had eaten since he left home at 7 a. M. To run errands until now. The hunger surged in his belly, but he did not dare to stop at all.
