woman wearing irish linen shirt

At the end of November, Singapore has fully entered the rainy season.The word "extraordinary heavy rain" on the weather forecast has not changed at all, and occasionally people have the illusion that the same day is repeated every day.

The company's situation is changing day by day, and my schedule is colorful, reminding me of the change of the date line-for the better, of course.

Kevin and I completely tore our faces apart.

I have secretly organized and categorized the previous recordings and handed them over to Jocelyn, and this long lurking has finally come to light. As the direct descendant of the group, the COO remained calm. I felt something was wrong, so I specially prepared an anonymous channel, and when the dust settled, I would send him a big gift.

As long as it doesn't fall into black and white, then nothing can be said to be sure.Now our plan is being implemented step by step, and I am always on guard against the hidden arrows from behind, but I can't overcome this suspicion, and I can't persuade myself that it is just a shadow of a snake.To take a step back, even if we win a big victory, the group still has a considerable degree of voice over our company in important matters, and external forces cannot drive us away. If we want to achieve a balance, we must stay behind as soon as possible.

The evidence I have is very strong. As long as the big boss wants to touch Kevin, he will have to shed his skin even if he does not enter the game.

The problem is that although Kevin is not a direct descendant of the group, he has a close relationship with the imperial "Prince", and has an unclear relationship with BCG.If he didn't leave the field, even if I imagined the situation of reckoning after the fall, I would feel a chill down my back.

However, Kevin didn't make much use of the COO.If the big boss really becomes Chonger and "forgets" me, the Jie Zitui who worked hard for him, and gives the COO a share, I will at least have an enemy of the enemy in the dark.

An enemy of an enemy is a friend.Truth is irrefutable.

The last day of November was an unremarkable Monday.

I took a day off.

Today I am 31 years old.

Ten years later, at the age of 31, I received a red envelope from my mother again.She was generous, she shot four sixes, I returned a bigger one, and she sent another five-digit number.After repeating this three times, I got tired of it and accepted her money to satisfy her guilt.

I didn't thank her for giving birth to me, and she didn't wish me a happy birthday.

Only about half an hour later, my mother sent a message: "If it is safe next year, you can bring your friends to Tokyo to play. I invite you to watch the women's volleyball game."

I replied yes.

I slept very comfortably during this lazy sleep. Miss Pan De's bed is harder than mine, maybe it's because of the pillows?It's just that I prefer the bed to be placed in the middle of the room, and hers is placed against the wall. When I woke up in the middle, I accidentally kicked the wall and woke me up with fright.

She left for work long ago and left me half-finished breakfast in the fridge before she left—it’s “brunch” now.Not daring to live up to this intention, I turned on the stereo and fried the chicken breast, and sat at the bar to finish the food one by one.The owner of the house really enjoys life much more than I do, but the taste in listening to music is really... old school.There are even a few vinyl records of Queen in Miss Pender's CD cabinet, but they are all unopened, and there is no vinyl player at home, so it should be just her collection.

Contrary to her, let alone music albums, my physical books at home are quite limited.Reluctantly found Zhang Shangneng's "StickyFingers", I moved my shoulders to prepare for warming up, and started a day of exercise in front of the window.

The phone vibrated wildly on the table, and the report and handover for the new week had entered a white-hot state.I turned a deaf ear to it, Lao Huang had to worry about these things, birthday people should enjoy life happily.

Of course, the main reason is that Miss Pan De gave me a death order. If it is not an emergency, I will not be able to work today: no matter how boring I am, I will turn to the book when I am bored.

I looked at these collections in her bookcase, scanned and browsed repeatedly.

She seems to still maintain the reading habits of her school days. She covers a wide range of topics, but there are obviously differences in importance. There are very few non-fiction works, and most of them are monographs or reference books that can be used in work now.There are a few novels with very old spines, and after I pulled them out, I found that there were obvious signs of flipping.Her taste in literature is similar to mine, but after all she specializes in this, so there are naturally little-known and unpopular writers on the bookshelf.

I took one of them and flipped through two pages, then put it back.Serious literary works seem to be difficult to become my pastime, I just browse the spines of new or old books line by line: the thoughts of the owner of the book cannot be captured, but that time can still be imagined.

Finally, I turned to the children's edition of Easy Steps to Chinese.

There are a lot of notes in Miss Pan De's exercise book. Her Chinese handwriting is much better than I imagined, with extremely neat strokes, but it is also obvious that some characters are "drawn" rather than written. Yes, the stroke order must be messed up.Originally, I was just flipping through it and helping her to check for correctness and mistakes. I never thought that I could see her practicing calligraphy in the blank space of each unit.

The writing next to the female character is not very good, but the upper and lower structure of the "Li" character is not bad.

She practiced my name.

It was pouring rain outside the window.

There is unstoppable warmth overflowing in my heart.

After three o'clock, Miss Pender informed me that she could be back before six o'clock.I didn't expect her to end so early, I hurriedly took out the ingredients from the refrigerator and started to prepare.It was my idea that I cook today, maybe it was my confident state that overwhelmed her—or maybe Miss Pender simply couldn’t bear to dampen my enthusiasm—she encouraged me symbolically, and said She'll eat them anyway.

I checked the recipe ahead of time, so at least I won't be busy looking at my phone right now.The staple food is very simple. Steak is something that anyone can cook. I have cleaned up the blood and oiled it and put it back in the fresh-keeping room for later use; soup and desserts are ready-made; the hard part is the cold cuts.

Shrimp, after lunch at noon, I cooked and peeled the shrimp one by one.As for the seasoning, it is a bit difficult. I have decided to trust the recipe I found on the Internet. The ingredients are accurate to [-] gram, and they are prepared with a kitchen scale.

The hard part is the vegetables.

To be precise, the difficult thing is to wash the vegetables.

I've been rubbing this broccoli for over 10 minutes and it's not washed at all other than the buds keep falling off.If you were asking me, I would think this broccoli has a bad work ethic and should be sent back to the trash for a remake of "How to Make a Vegetable" - but no.I don't have spare ingredients.

I took a group photo of three kinds of vegetables that were "washed, roughly washed, I don't think it's too clean" to Ms. Pender, with the text: "Do you think they look clean enough?"

After sending the message, I switched to the chat interface with my dad.The last message was still a few days ago. He replied that he would be free after [-]:[-] pm next Monday and he could make a video call with me.Judging from the situation in the circle of friends, he is indeed very busy and has several big orders to sign.I thought it was a little funny, since I didn't even have to make an appointment to talk to my mom: but I didn't dwell on it.

The dead cannot be chased, and I really can't say how close I am to him.

Miss Pender's message came in: "I can't tell with the naked eye. Maybe you could try feeling its hide to make sure the wax is all off."

Miss Pender: "Don't touch that broccoli again."

The second sentence is in all caps.

I didn't refute anything, she is much more experienced than I am in this kind of thing.After checking the fruit, there was another vibration on the table.

I clicked it: "By the way, no matter how long you wash it, if you touch your phone directly after using it..."

Miss Pender: "You know."

…I bet she's sniggering right now holding her phone.

I had just finished processing the cold cuts when the rain stopped.The sauce was prepared on the side, and it was almost [-]:[-] in the afternoon.Miss Pender will be home soon, and I'm nervous for no reason, but I can't say what I'm nervous about, whether it's my dinner homework that needs to be checked, it's her, or it's the "package" I'm trying to unpack.

I really should talk to my dad.We haven't spoken since the last time we talked about my mom wanting to pay back the money.

Our contact in recent years has been really limited.Before that, he had to call me at least once every few months. At that time, MSN was in full swing, and we could still have a few casual conversations through the insurmountable network delay; This kind of money exchange is simply saved. He is concise and concise, and I also keep silent.

Later, before and after the defense, I was very busy. I joined Club A, and my contacts did not increase but decreased.After arriving in Singapore, I went back to China once to pay homage to my grandparents, but the main purpose was to pay back my uncle's money.My dad also went to Suzhou, and only burned incense.I don't even know why he went, we didn't speak more than ten sentences in those few days.

Around that time, the contact between us became very few.It is clear that we have entered the era of the mobile Internet, and the connection between people has never been more convenient. But looking through our chat records, the content is almost only me giving him New Year greetings during the Chinese New Year.I intentionally didn't send any messages to him during the Spring Festival this year, but he did not send me any messages, either: it seems that he didn't think about it at all.

Looking back at the beginning of the year, we accidentally contacted each other due to the epidemic and said a few more words about my mother. At the end of the year, can we really have a heart-to-heart talk?

The balcony was still covered with rainstorm moisture. I opened the door, facing the city and turning my back on the phone.

A heavy bronze sculpture supports my right arm.The sleeves were soaked all of a sudden, and the metal took away my heat, starting from the unconscious elbow.

The smart lock behind me rang, and my mobile phone also swayed twice on the table at the right time, like a fish out of water.

I didn't look back.

He probably doesn't remember that today is my birthday.