I have been delivering food in this city for three years. I have been scolded by owners, chased by security guards, and splashed with water by luxury cars, but I have never panicked. But at this moment, I felt that my heart was grasped by a hand. The hand reached in from the chest, pulled out the beating thing, and threw it into the ice cellar.
"I'll be there soon."
I didn't hang up the phone, I stood up directly, threw the fried rice box into the trash can, pulled off the insulated bag from the takeout box and ran out. There were several unfinished orders of milk tea and mala hotpot in the takeout box. I didn't even have time to check which store they were from - anyway, it was overtime and the money was deducted.
