Chen Yan had just collected the final payment for the last project and collapsed on the sofa, thinking that he could finally rest for two days.
Recently, I took on the job of editing a commercial film. Party A made eight revisions and almost vomited him. That's the bad thing about freelancing. You've made money, but your life is almost gone. He rubbed his sore temples and looked at his phone. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, the sun was shining brightly outside, and the air conditioner in the room was fully turned on. It was so comfortable that he wanted to sleep directly.
The doorbell rang.
"Who is it?" Chen Yan muttered and got up, stepped on the wooden floor with his bare feet, and walked over to open the door.
