Chen Mo was familiar with that kind of smile - it was the kind of smile that when a cat sees a mouse, it tries to play with it before killing it.
All the riders at the site are there.
There are more than 20 men wearing fluorescent raincoats. Some are checking their mobile phones, some are eating rice, and some are taking a nap while leaning on a battery car.
Everyone looked up when they saw Chen Mo being called into the office.
The air suddenly became quiet.
There was only the sound of rain.
"Everyone, listen," Fatty Wang clapped his hands and pulled out a piece of paper from his desk drawer, "This is the 'newcomer' to our station—Chen Mo.
An old acquaintance from three years ago. "
He paused and raised the paper as if displaying a victory flag.
"Chen Mo, he was sentenced to six years and his sentence was reduced by half. He was just released.
The person he killed was the hostess of the villa whom he bumped into while delivering food.
The evidence is conclusive. "
The crowd of riders exploded.
"Holy shit, murderer?"
"Isn't he sentenced to seven years for delivering food?
Why six years? "
"You know nothing, my sentence will be reduced."
"Does our station want a murderer to deliver food?
Who dares to eat it? "
Chen Mo stood there, holding the hem of his raincoat in his hand, while water dripped onto the floor tiles, forming a puddle of gray.
He said nothing.
Fatty Wang came over and patted him on the shoulder, as hard as pushing him: "Everyone, I, Fatty Wang, have given you face.
The ugly talk is ahead. Anyone who is slow in taking orders or has too many complaints will be punished.
He's an ex-con and needs this job more than you do, right? "
The crowd burst into laughter.
