C2 Misfortune Cannot be Forgiven

28 years old and still alone, in the eyes of ordinary people is "leftover man", no! It should be said that he had no money, no house, and no deposit book. Otherwise, he had a psychological problem, or he had a physical problem, for which he also felt confused. Last week, he had organized a group medical examination, and his physical and mental indicators were normal, and his body and mind were very healthy, because he had had had an unforgettable experience.

Just as he was about to pick up the phone and answer it, it suddenly broke. This time, he was awakened and his mouth felt bitter. The whole room was filled with the smell of the smoke from last night.

Smoking is harmful to your health! But he could not stop, he liked the feeling of addiction even more. Other than that, he did not have any bad habits. Even though he did not have any beer, he could still be considered a healthy person.

Fan Shuang had his own standpoint and opinions. He would tell you that at any time, you had to keep your mind clear and think clearly. Drinking alcohol would only slow your mind down, so you would not be able to concentrate on your thoughts.

Fan Shuang knew that he was not Li Bai, and he did not have the godly support and inspiration from the "Drinking Poems". He was only willing to work diligently and diligently to strive for his goals and dreams so that he would have no regrets, and even if he died, he would not have any regrets.

He picked up the cup of water on the left side of the table and slanted it towards his lips in a daze. There was nothing, the bitter taste in his mouth was still not nourished by the sweet rain, he shook his head forcefully, his consciousness seemed to be clear, the water in the cup was long gone, he could not help smiling bitterly: Why can't I feel it even if I sleep, is it really slow?

In fact, if someone was sleeping on the table, before long, his head would be pressing down on the nerves in his arms, and his blood flow wouldn't be smooth, so he would naturally feel sore and numb. In addition, he was in a half-asleep state, so his senses weren't as sharp as they were when he was awake.

That's right. If a normal person could operate without resting for three days and three nights like him, they would have to prepare and play games. They would have to be seriously ill. Disappointed, he covered the cup and put it back where he had found it.

The phone on the table rang once again, causing the table to vibrate. "Buzz buzz!" He almost jumped out of his chair, composed himself, and leaned against the edge of the table to support his exhausted body. He looked at his cell phone and saw the words "Editor" and a string of numbers on the screen.

Grabbing the phone from the table, he put it to his ear and consciously pressed the answer button with his left thumb.

"Hey!" "Hello?"

"Writer Fan, you're early?" A familiar yet fearful voice came from the other end of the phone. It was a mocking smile that was yet not a smile. Needless to say, the editor was in a bad mood, so he had to pay more attention.

"Editor-in-Chief, stop scolding me. You're early too!" Fan Shuang replied weakly, talking and laughing.

A roar came from the other side of the phone, almost in anger, excitement and anger. "Morning? Do you know what time it is? He was actually greeting the morning? "Did you vent your emotions on the screen last night, become delirious, and become dispirited? Can you still love yourself and control yourself …" The editor's words were cold and sharp, like a machine gun.

Fan Shuang stood very far away from him, as if he was the one who was scolded by the editor himself. He was so shocked that his ears were about to go deaf and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably as he took his phone away from his ear, no longer listening to the editor's nagging. Inadvertently, the time and date shown in the upper left corner of the cell phone screen, 2013/7/22/, 13: 35

He jumped up from his chair, moved to the window and opened the curtain. The burning sunlight was like a ball of fire that seemed to be about to melt him, he felt a sharp pain in his eyes, and sweat started to pour out of his forehead like soybeans. It was unknown if it was because he was scared by the editor's shout or because he had been working too hard recently, but his body was not feeling well.

Fan Shuang put the phone to her ear again. Unable to stand the scorching sun's rays, she half-closed the curtain and hid it in a shady place. She apologized politely to the editor, "Sorry, editor. I did oversleep last night..."

"What day is it today?" the editor asked.

"Today is July 22nd, 2013, 1: 30 PM..." "Actually, the reason why I said it was 1: 40 is to let the editor feel that my attitude is sincere and humble." Nonsense! It's already been three days, and you still said that it would only be 12 o'clock today at the latest. Yet you delayed the deadline yet again, believe it or not, I will deduct your salary for this month. " The chief editor was furious. It seemed like he had reached the limit of his patience.

When Fan Shuang heard this, he was terrified and pleaded, "Don't, don't, don't. I'll send you an email right away..."

Without waiting for Fan Shuang to finish, he ordered in a strong tone, "Didn't you say that you had already been printed into a document? Send mail? "Immediately, immediately, bring it to me. I don't want to be delayed by you for three more days. At the latest, come to the club at 2 o'clock sharp. Whether you fly or run, if I don't see you with the script in front of me, this month's salary is set." "Pah!" The phone was hung up angrily.

His cellphone beeped with a "beep, beep", feeling both disappointed and at a loss. As for the editor's final wanted poster, he had no choice but to comply with it, let alone the fact that his monthly salary was still in the hands of the editor while he still relied on his meager salary to survive.

He was slightly gratified that he had to put the manuscript into his computer a few days ago and print it out on B5. Otherwise, he would be at a loss of what to do. He could only calmly wait for his salary to be deducted.

Fan Shuang could not care less. He quickly grabbed a thick stack of papers from the table and stuffed it into a backpack, the small words on the white paper as thin as ants densely filling up the bag. He looked at the time anxiously, as it was already 1: 42 minutes, and there was less than a half hour before he arrived at the publishing house in San Xing District.

Even if he took the bus from the southern suburbs to the publishing house, it would still take at least an hour. Besides the waiting car, delay, congestion, traffic jams and other factors, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to reach there. And like this, he would have to spend around 30 to 100 points. For someone like him, who was originally in a difficult situation, this would just worsen the situation. However, he couldn't afford to lose out and weigh the pros and cons.

Fan Shuang could only bear with it. Washing one's face, shaving one's beard, and washing up was even more impossible. She put on a pair of "flip-flops" on the ground, put on a sky-blue shirt, grabbed her phone, key, and backpack, which were all filled with documents, and sprinted to the door.

After opening the door, he nimbly left the room and closed the door behind him. He took out his key and locked it in one go. In less than ten seconds, he had complete confidence in Fan Shuang's speed.

Suddenly turning around, he almost bumped into the landlady. He heard her shout in surprise, "Little Fan, why are you so anxious? Can't you be slower?"

Fan Shuang did not like interpersonal relationships because he had no time and was too busy to get close to the landlady. There was almost no time to make friends with the landlady, so she quickly made her way downstairs, only to see her bloated body taking up two-thirds of the hallway. She did not have any intention of sidestepping as she smiled at him maliciously and asked him, "Auntie Bao, I have urgent matters to attend to, can I let you have the rent by the end of the month?"

Grandma Bao smiled and said, "Little Fan, apart from renting out the rent, does Aunt have no other business with you?"

Fan Shuang was burning with anxiety, worried that he would not be able to make it in time for the "No. 2 Bus" to the publishing firm. Unknowingly, he ran through her and headed downstairs. "I'm going out now. Sorry, I can't delay it. See you later!"

As she spoke, she had already scuttled up the stairs, her figure disappearing in a flash. No matter how Auntie Bao wanted to call out to him, Fan Shuang did not answer. Moreover, when she regained her senses, the faint sound of his anxious footsteps could be heard echoing in the corridor.

"This kid is always in a hurry, he's not steady at all. No wonder he's so impulsive to this day." After a round of complaints, the obese Auntie Bao could not help but chuckle. "But this person is so silly. Maybe he really can agree. When the time comes, I can rent out two suites for one suite, hehe …" Auntie Bao was planning something bad.