Cheng Mo never thought in his life that he would be involved in such a thing one day.
He was originally an ordinary migrant worker, doing data entry in a small company. His salary was neither high nor low, and his life was like water. I go out early and come back late every day, squeeze into the subway, eat takeout, and get scolded by my boss, living like a transparent person. The only good thing about him is that he has a good temper and is patient. His colleagues say he is like a tortoise - a little slow, but no one wants to make him angry.
After working overtime until about eleven o'clock that night, Cheng Mo walked home dragging his legs filled with lead. The autumn night wind was already chilly, making him shrink his neck. The street lights in the village in the city where he lived had been broken for a while, and no one had repaired them. The whole alley was dark, and only the searchlights from the distant construction site occasionally swept over for some light.
As he was walking, he was scrolling through his phone. His colleagues in the group were complaining about his boss, so he followed up by sending an emoticon saying "It's too difficult." Just as I was about to exit the chat interface, I suddenly caught a glimpse of light at the end of the alley.
