From the Start, I Became a Neighborhood Inspector, and I Can Spot Every Scale in the City at a Glance

Synopsis: [Urban Life] [Everyday Street Life] [Temporary Worker] [Can See How Much Is Missing] [Reweighs Items in Public] [Underdog's Rise]

Fang Zhun is thirty-four and works as a temp. The name on his employee badge has long since been bleached white by sweat.

Three months ago, something strange happened to his eyes: whatever he looked at, he could see how much it was short by.

On his first day at work, a line of pale gray writing floated above the three ounces of meat Qin A Po had bought: Short by 37 grams.

The old woman only said, "It's not worth making a fuss over, son."

He put the cast-iron weight his grandfather had left him on the chopping board and reweighed the meat in front of everyone in line.

The butcher asked, "Who do you think you are?"

He said, "I'm 37 grams."

A teacher they'd hired took twenty minutes with a calculator to work it out? He could give the answer after one glance!

A bag of rice short by 110 grams, thirty liters of oil short by 60 milliliters? He could spot it at a glance!

But when he sent the weight he'd used for twenty-four years to be inspected, it was off by 0.4 grams.

Even his grandfather's old scale was off by 11 grams.

Fang Zhun didn't hide from it. "My grandfather was off by 11 grams. What about you?"

From then on, he didn't just check things himself; he taught other people how to measure them for themselves.

Later, Qin A Po still bought only three ounces.

After weighing it, the young vendor said, "Two grams extra. It's on me."

That day, she didn't ask him to reweigh it.