At 2:14 in the morning, I was the only idiot in the entire office building still changing the drawings.
I stared at the red annotations on the CAD layer, and my eyes were so sore that I could hardly open them. The WeChat icon in the lower right corner of the screen was still flashing. Sales Director Fatty Chen sent the seventeenth voice message. I was too lazy to listen. I could tell what he was urging just by reading the text - "Let's work together. Party A will see the facade plan tomorrow. You can make one final revision to ensure satisfaction."
Last edition. He said this six times.
I rubbed my temples, leaned back, and the back of the chair creaked with a scream. It was at this point that the angle of my sight suddenly shifted - the black frame of the computer screen vaguely reflected the light and shadow of the street lights outside the window.
Etc.
