A layer of white fuzz floated on the noodles. Mold.
I stared at the fuzzy stuff, then glanced at the time on my phone: 11:47 p.m. I was the only one left in the office. The fluorescent light flickered twice, as if it might go out at any moment.
“Zhou Yi!”
Manager Zhao’s voice exploded from the doorway. My hand jerked, and I nearly knocked the cup of instant noodles onto my keyboard.
Zhao Deyan strode in wearing a suit and polished shoes, his leather soles clicking against the floor. With a cigarette in hand, he came over to my desk, glanced at the noodles, then at me. He looked at me like I was a stray dog on the roadside.
“The project proposal is due tomorrow, and you still have time to eat a midnight snack?” He flicked his cigarette ash beside my keyboard. “A loser’s a loser. No wonder you haven’t managed to get hired full-time after six months as an intern.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to say I’d finished the proposal ages ago and emailed it to him that afternoon.
“I’ve seen your proposal.” Manager Zhao didn’t even wait for me to speak. “What is this garbage? The data’s all copied, and the analysis is complete nonsense. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
He hadn’t read it. I’d bet a hundred yuan he absolutely hadn’t. When I was writing the proposal, that guy Zero was still gloating in my head, saying, “Don’t worry, Host. I optimized the data for you. No one will be able to tell you copied it.”
“Redo the whole thing by nine tomorrow morning.” Manager Zhao turned toward the door. “If you can’t, don’t bother coming in again.”
The door slammed shut.
