Zong Hang got up in the morning, cleaned up and was about to go downstairs to have dinner. Just as he was about to open the door, he suddenly saw a note by the door.

Who should have stuffed it in through the crack in the door?

Pick it up and read it, the content is only two words.

"Leave."

Behind is a string of phone numbers, signed by Jingxiu.

Leaving?

Zong Hang's heart skipped a beat and subconsciously turned his head. Although from this angle, he could only see the terrace of his room.

She had said she was leaving and gave him a book. When he was thinking about what gift to give back, her guests came back, so he thought that more time was enough, so he was not in a hurry to return the gift.

It was so sudden.

He stared at the number.

This is the mobile phone number: The mobile phone popularity rate in Cambodia is not high, most of them are only nine digits, and the first three digits are company numbers, which is easy to remember.

What's more, the number of Jingxiu is very easy to read.

Leave this note, probably the meaning of contacting you often in the future.

It is common sense that he should not keep in touch with this, but who has not paid his gift yet? He doesn't like to owe things to others, and feels like he has taken advantage of others, and feels uncomfortable.

Zong Hang took out his cell phone, wanted to dial in and exchange greetings, pressed the first few numbers, and changed his mind.

In two days, I will be so anxious to call her, don't let her misunderstand and think he has any meaning to her.

***

The internship in the Ministry of Administration is also just a formality. Zong Hang is responsible for counting the travel car travel of hotel guests - the list is handed over by others, and he just needs to make an Excel summary table.

Junior high school students can do this kind of work. Zong Hang felt that he was a talented person, so he made a big fuss on the table, setting formats and adding colors, making an ordinary spreadsheet as fancy and ugly as Yangliu Youth Painting.

This scene was frozen into a photo, sent out via Long Song's mobile phone, and appeared almost in real time in Zong Bisheng's WeChat message.

The title is: Zong Hang helps the Administration Department design spreadsheets to improve employees' daily work efficiency.

Zong Bisheng was very pleased: the son was so upset that he threw him out of the country and he really worked, and he became more and more pleasing to him.

So he called Zong Hang, which was like a conference to give a report.

First of all, he affirmed his efforts and achievements over the past month.

Zong Hang is timid and has been recovering from injuries for more than a month. He is still shameless and dare not talk about his achievements.

The second is about internship, which makes Zong Hang have to persist for at least three months. He is back in the future. He has a "overseas communication experience" in his resume, and he still has face to tell him.

I don’t know if there is any face or not, but this experience must be quite unique: after all, there are a lot of people who go to Europe and the United States to gilt, but there shouldn’t be many copper plates in Cambodia.

Finally, he said earnestly and looked forward to Zong Hang's life in the next few decades.

The general idea is: When you come back, you will be at the grassroots level of the company. After three years of rotation, all departments will be familiar with each other. They will be promoted to managers and get married by the way. The child will be born as soon as possible and the child will be born early and light. By the time you are thirty-five, you should be steady and your father will give you power. You don’t have to work too hard. Retire at the age of 60, buy a piece of land in a beautiful place, grow vegetables and grow flowers, and grow onions. This thing is easy to support...

After hanging up the phone, Zong Hang was stunned for a while. Seeing the people around him busy, he suddenly felt that "struggle" was really funny to him.

A clerk came over and gave him a new handwritten list and asked him to make a tabular record.

Zong Hang mechanically added a sheet to the table and typed the destination for travel.

Then stared at the lines.

The guests in this photo went to the water village.

That day, he saw Yi Sa again in the Shuishang Village. He didn't know where she was now and where she would be in the future.

But he knew for sure, and knew that by the age of sixty, his vegetable garden might be full of green onions.

He doesn't like this life, but he may eventually live it.

Because this world is divided by only two types of people, those with strong minds and strong movements.

He is not in any category.

Zong Hang knocked to the table, groping back and forth on the table with his hands, and finally touched his cell phone.

Then he called Jing Xiu.

Izuki's mood doesn't seem to be very good either: "hello?"

Zong Hang said: "I."

He weakly asked Jingxiu for afternoon tea.

He needed to talk to others, and he felt that there was no pressure to chat with Jing Xiu. No matter how he collapsed or collapsed, she would not laugh at him.

Jing Xiu said: "What afternoon tea should I drink? I drank a bar. I didn't sleep well last night. I had to make up for my sleep during the day, or I had to make an appointment at the old market at night."

***

At noon, I should have a meal in the employee restaurant, but before the meal, Long Song called Shang Zonghang and said he was taking him out for a meal.

Zong Hang inexplicably followed Long Song out of the hotel, crossed the street, turned a corner, turned into a Chinese restaurant, and entered the door to Mr. Guan’s shrine. An imitation of Terracotta Warriors and Horses erected at the stairs on the second floor, and there was a Pleasant Goat on the door of the private room.

He thought it was Long Song who was afraid that he would miss home, so he took him to feel the Chinese flavor, but he didn't know that someone was waiting inside to open the door of the private room.

Both are Cambodians, tall and strong, and even with a cramped smile on their faces, they still cannot be said to be good at the top.

Zong Hang's mind suddenly broke out and suddenly realized.

He looked at Long Song and stuttered a little: "He...they..."

Long Song nodded: "I found their boss and talked several times, and finally there was a result."

The result was spread in front of me: there were a lot of gifts on the round table. Although the fruit baskets, biscuits and pastries were not high-end, they successfully set off an atmosphere of sincerity. Moreover, there were also a stack of RMB bundled with red banknotes in conspicuous places, and it was estimated that there were 8,000 yuan.

Long Song winked, and the two of them quickly came up and said "sorry" to Zong Hang, "I'm sorry". Both of them were not good at Chinese and English. As they spoke, they became a quaint Khmer speech. The expressions were full of repentance and their eyes were full of sincerity.

Zong Hang was a little unbearable.

Long Song said: "After discussing, they put on a drink and apologize to you, apologize in person, bought a gift, and paid 8,000 yuan in medical expenses. Don't think it's too low, our salary here is not high... are you still satisfied?"

Zong Hang was at a loss. What else could he say: The matter was over, the injury was almost healed, and someone came to apologize. He bought so many things, smiled on his face, and bowed ninety degrees every time...

He couldn't beat people up, and he didn't beat people since he was a child.

Besides, there is a person who is wrapped in white gauze on his arm.

So, this is the only result.

But I was a little aggrieved and couldn't help but complain a few times: "You should also pay attention to it in the future. If you have any questions, please tell me. Don't hit people at any time. If I get beaten up, you will also go to jail..."

Long Song kept laughing, probably, verbatim, translated his words word by word.

***

In the evening, Zong Hang and Jing Xiu were drinking outside the Tutuche Bar.

I didn’t find the one Yi Sa’s. This one was chosen casually. It was a little smaller and couldn’t sit in it. I could only sit on a high stool outside.

Jing Xiu took the matter of Zong Hang being beaten up and the food was now drinking and drinking, one cup after another, and laughed so hard that he leaned back and forth.

Apa followed him as usual, but the two were having a lot of chats, as if they still felt that he couldn't open the chat - he was also tactful, and walked around a small radius with the Tutu car bar as the center, keeping a distance and fulfilling his duties.

Drinking usually involves several stages: at first, they laugh and scream, then they cry and make a fuss.

Zong Hang and Jing Xiu are the same. When their tongues are big and they cannot speak and strode smoothly, even if they are not worried, they will be filled with the sorrow.

Both of them were talking, full of decay, comfort me, I comfort you.

Jing Xiu was melancholy: "I thought he was different. He left and came back. I thought it was everyone who was destined to be. God gave him a chance..."

Zong Hang picked up the wine glass, as if he had Parkinson's syndrome, and his hands kept shaking: "A confidant, it's hard to find a confidant, and it's hard to find the whole world. You still have to find it in this industry, of course it's even harder..."

He yelled again: "Is it really useless? My dad doesn't like me and says I don't even have the courage to talk back..."

Jing Xiu comforted him: "Then show your courage. Next time you argue with him, you will never give in and refuse to give in."

Zong Hang thought for a long time and shook his head in frustration: "He called Zong Bisheng. He has never given me since he was a child and he must win. If I don't admit defeat, he will be angry all the time. He is in poor health. Forget it... let him win."

Jing Xiu looked at him with a sympathy, and was about to say something, but he burped up and forgot everything.

I only saw a flash of people in the shadow not far away.

She stared at there in wonder.

Zong Hang shook his hand in front of her eyes, and Jing Xiu knocked off his hand: "Zong Hang, it seems that someone is looking at us."

"Who?" Zong Hang narrowed his eyes, not knowing where to look, "Who? Who looks at me?"

"I don't know, it disappeared in a flash."

Zong Hang poured himself wine: "Maybe look at me, I look good..."

Well-sweet giggled.

Zong Hang said: "Really, let me tell you, there are many perverts in this old market. Last time, there was a man who always stared at Isa..."

Jing Xiu interrupted him with confusion: "I know, there are many perverts now, who specialize in men, Zong Hang, you have to be careful..."

She burped again, and after a few seconds of confusion, she only remembered to drink: "Come on, blow a bottle."
To be continued...