The sky in July is now gray. I don't know if it's an illusion, but the sky looks particularly low today.

Just like the sky in a dream.

Low, bleak, hopeless.

"Damn, it's going to rain again. I hate rainy days."

The man muttered quietly, looked down at his phone, locked the car in a panic, and hurried to the building next to him.

At the last second when the elevator door closed, the man stretched out his hand to stop it. Amidst the complaining eyes of a group of elite white-collar workers, the man squeezed in with a smiling face.

"Beep beep beep..."

Before he could reach the floor, the overweight alarm bell rang, and the man had no choice but to retreat dejectedly amid the disgusted looks of a group of people.

Watching the elevator door slowly closing, the man had only one thought in his mind.

"Perfect attendance is gone again."

The man stood in the belated elevator. The smell of several perfumes was mixed in the cramped space. Expensive and cheap ones were intertwined. He couldn't help but twitch his nose and feel a little itchy.

However, the elite white-collar workers in this place are still in pretty good shape.

The man's name is Zhang Tu, nicknamed Tea Teacher by his friends. He is nearly thirty years old, but he is still a loyal middle school student at heart. He is an older aristocrat, not to mention impoverished, and living in a somewhat muddle-headed way.

After graduation, he had been wandering outside for many years, and it was as if fate was constantly playing tricks on him. No matter what he did, he would always fail due to joking reasons. It was like a plot that third-rate romance novels were unwilling to tell. It was cliché, unexpected, but reasonable.

However, after returning home, he relied on his experience as a returning elite in first-tier cities and went through ups and downs to get a part-time job in a small company.

Of course, for the old fritters, it is impossible to move bricks seriously, and they can only make ends meet by paddling and fishing.

"Hey, Teacher Zhang, you're late." The oncoming colleague joked with a smile.

Zhang Tu shook his head helplessly, and finally looked at the bright 8:32 on his mobile phone, which was a bit dazzling. He had been back for a while, but he still wasn't used to the schedule of his hometown, the strict rules and regulations, and the habit of going to work on time.

After punching in, Zhang Tu made tea skillfully, then quietly touched the fire exit, and a bright but not dazzling flame lit up.

"Huh..."

At this moment, Zhang Tu really felt that his mood had truly calmed down. He looked at the spiritual food glowing red in his hand, and the little bits of fire were like bright lights in the dark night.

Just like the light in a dream, it is small and insignificant, but it is surrounded by everyone, pursuing it day after day, year after year.

Zhang Tu laughed at himself, silently enjoying the few quiet moments that only belonged to him, and soothing the anxiety and fatigue caused by the dream.

Five minutes for a cigarette, half a pack of cigarettes a day, fifty minutes. Apart from the necessary time for recovery, you still have thirty minutes of your own time a day, which is not bad.

Zhang Tu comforted himself in this way. After all, in the adult world, there is no time that truly belongs to oneself.

No!

"bite!"