I'm not a theatre god

Frost Street.

Zhao Yi, who was soaked in mist, opened the door of his house, placed a big flag with the word "Resumption of Work" on the wall, and sat down tiredly.

"You're back?" Uncle Zhao stood at the table wearing an apron, looking at him while making noodles, and asked worriedly, "How is it? What did the factory say?"

"I couldn't resume work... so I just paid some money casually."

Zhao Yi took a sip of water, slapped the coins in his pocket on the table, and cursed,

"If I can't go back to work, it's no use just taking the money. How many days can it be used?"

"No, I have to go again tomorrow. If they don't resume work for one day, I will go and cause trouble!"

Uncle Zhao looked at him for a long time and sighed, "Xiao Yi... If the factory is really determined to stop work, what's the point of making trouble if you make others anxious, and you won't get any good results."

"He dares to touch me when he gets angry?" Zhao Yi's eyes widened, "If he dares to touch me, I will fight with him!"

"Fighting, fighting, fighting, what are you going to do with others?"

Uncle Zhao snorted coldly, slapped a large piece of dough in his hand on the wooden board, and said with a bang, "Every day, if you don't do serious things, you only know how to hold your neck and stare at others. What's the use? Wait for you to know someday. If you bow your head, your father and I won't have to worry so much! Do you think this world is so easy to mess up?"

Zhao Yi clearly felt that Uncle Zhao was angry. He originally wanted to argue, but in the end he pursed his lips and remained silent.

The room suddenly became quiet.

The two were in a stalemate for a long time, but Uncle Zhao shook his head and continued kneading the dough.

"It doesn't matter if we can't go to the steel factory. At least we still have this breakfast stall. Although your dad and I can't make much money, I can still support you."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yi's expression changed, and his fists under the table were clenched...

After a long time, he stood up without saying a word and walked into the house.

"Why are you going?" Uncle Zhao asked.

"sleep!"

"What are you and your dad shouting about!"

boom--!

As the door closed, Uncle Zhao cursed you little brat angrily, and continued to knead the dough with his head down, becoming a little more vigorous.

The fog rolled in, and the sky outside the door gradually darkened. Uncle Zhao wiped the sweat from his forehead, walked to the table and lit the kerosene lamp. The orange light dimmed the corner of the breakfast shop, casting a slightly rickety shadow on the mottled wall.

Outside the door, a figure wearing a black windbreaker stopped in the fog.

"Uncle Zhao, are you still busy?" Chen Ling saw that the light in the breakfast shop was still on and opened the door to a corner and asked.

"Ah Ling, come on in and sit down." When Uncle Zhao saw Chen Ling, a smile appeared on his face, "The cook from the elementary school at the end of the street ran away, and there was no one to cook breakfast for him, so he laid it on me. Big order... quite busy.”

"No, I still have to patrol."

"Standing on patrol so late?" Uncle Zhao was startled, "Did something happen?"

Chen Ling hesitated for a moment, "No... Anyway, it's best not to go out recently. It might not be safe outside."

"Okay, okay." Uncle Zhao nodded one after another.

"Go to rest early, Uncle Zhao, don't stay up too late."

"Okay." The smile on Uncle Zhao's face became brighter and brighter. He seemed to have thought of something and sighed helplessly, "If the one in our family is half as sensible as you, I would be satisfied..."

Chen Ling smiled, closed the shop door for him, held a kerosene lamp, and gradually disappeared into the fog of the night.

A night of silence.

…

Early the next morning, the door was slowly pushed open, and Zhao Yi walked out of the room with red eyes, as if he hadn't slept well.

He opened his mouth and was about to say something, when he saw the figure in the shop from the corner of his eye and closed his mouth silently... At some point, Uncle Zhao had fallen asleep on the table, his slight snoring echoing in the room. Outside the glass door was Misty.

On the table in front of him, there were hundreds of packed buns neatly placed, six big bags full, which were the fruits of his whole night's work.

Zhao Yi frowned at the buns, then looked at the sleeping figure lying on the table. His black hair could no longer cover up those old silver threads, as if it was stained with broken snow, and his brows were full of exhaustion.

"I'm so old, I have to do this..." Zhao Yi muttered, his eyes full of complexity.

His eyes swept across the slightly cramped and old breakfast shop, and finally landed on the flag lying in the corner. The complexity in his eyes gradually turned into determination...

He took a deep breath, walked lightly and took out a cotton coat from the house to cover Uncle Zhao. Then he walked to the door, put the big flag on his shoulders, pushed the store door open, and strode in. In thick fog.

The "resumption of work" flag waved in the fog, and the young man's arrogant face was indestructible.

He walked alone through the silent streets, heading north, until the neighborhood and its popularity disappeared behind him. After a long journey, the huge thing crawling in the fog gradually appeared in front of him.

He stopped in front of the gate of the steel plant.

Maybe it's because of the heavy fog, maybe it's too early, maybe it's because yesterday's meager salary sent other people away, but now he is the only one at the gate of the steel plant...

He thrust the flagpole into the soil beneath his feet, used all his strength, and shouted at the factory shrouded in fog:

"Where are the people?! Come out here!"

“We want to get back to work!!”

"I said it yesterday! If you don't resume work for one day, I will cause trouble for one day!"

"We won't resume work! No one can have a good life! Come out!"

"I want to get back to work!!"

Zhao Yi's shout echoed in the fog, no one cared, no one answered... But he still shouted tirelessly, as if his throat was made of iron.

Zhao Yi is naturally not stupid. He knows that the problem does not lie in the factory at all, but in Aurora City, but so what? As a kid from Frost Street in District 3, he had no access to Aurora City. For him, shouting here was the only way for him to resist his fate.

Zhao Yi's shouts continued. At this moment, the unoccupied iron door suddenly made a harsh sound and slowly opened outwards...

squeak——

Zhao Yi was stunned.

Maybe it was the wind, maybe the door wasn't locked at all... Zhao Yi didn't think much. He gritted his teeth, picked up the flag, put it on his shoulder, walked through the door in one stride, and walked straight to the workshop.

"Meng Shi!! Come out!!"

Zhao Yi kicked the door of the workshop and was about to confront Meng Shi, but he froze in place the next moment.

In a workshop several floors high, a huge shadow hovers above several hill-like machines, like a ten thousand-footed centipede... At this moment, directly below the centipede, in its shadow, a shadow can be seen. Just something like an insect egg, trembling slightly...