Zhuma, He Regrets It

Su Nian had a light blue notebook and kept notes for ten years. The coffee is 60 degrees, I don't eat coriander, and I shred the green onions. I feel a little tired at three o'clock in the afternoon. For three years, she copied everything about Lu Jingshen into an instruction manual that only she could read. She thought that if she waited a little longer, that position would eventually be freed up. Until she asked him if the marriage was true. He put down his pen and said: You are just my assistant. That night she deleted three alarm clocks on her phone, and at twenty-three forty-seven, she clicked send. Three months later, he started looking for her everywhere. I looked through her resignation application form, asked HR for her number, and sat downstairs in her new company for an hour without daring to go up. The person he was looking for no longer needed him.