Bulletproof Glass

Chen Mo, a retired veteran, applied for a job as the personal driver of billionaire Wang Ruolin in order to seek a high salary. He thought he was just driving, but he didn't want to step into an exquisite and cruel "hyperbaric chamber." There must be no hesitation when starting, no inertia when braking, the temperature of the car must be constant at 22.5 Degrees, and even the rhythm of his breathing is under the control of his employer. In this moving Maybach fortress, he is the invisible man who has always been in the driver's seat: he has heard about mergers and acquisitions worth hundreds of millions, cleaned up the vomit after the female president collapsed, and also pressed on the brakes and dared not let go of the blackmail disguised as porcelain. For three years, he watched her board the plane in high heels, watched her act decisively in the mall, and watched her reveal her unknown vulnerability and callousness in the back seat late at night. The closest distance between him and tens of billions of wealth is only a layer of bulletproof glass; and the farthest distance is also this layer of glass that can never be penetrated. When long-term irregular eating and high mental pressure finally caused his stomach to let out its final cry, Chen Mo fainted from the pain in the driver's seat. On the day he was discharged from the hospital, he received a generous compensation and a farewell without looking back. Now, he is holding the steering wheel of an online car-hailing car, drinking hot water from a thermos cup, and looking at the name that is still shining brightly in the news, he finally understands: the splendor of others is ultimately a mirage, and only by holding the steering wheel in his own hand can he drive towards the real life.