Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

A gust of wind swept past overhead, like a high-speed sports car speeding along at full throttle.

Xiao Mao subconsciously raised his head.

Then his eyes widened.

Holy crap!

His hand was pointing straight to the sky, and his mouth was wide open enough to fit an egg.

Everyone looked up at the same time.

Two hundred meters in the air, a familiar figure is slowly descending.

It moved slowly and steadily, like a falling leaf or a bird returning to its nest.

Zhang Qiliang landed gently at the station entrance, making almost no sound as his feet touched the ground.

"Good morning," he said.

Xiao Mao's mouth was still open.

Ahui's phone almost fell to the ground.

The cigarette in Old Zhou's mouth finally fell out, but he didn't even bother to pick it up.

Old Li stared at him blankly for a long time before finally managing to squeeze out a sentence: "...Didn't the news say...it would take another two hours to arrive?"

Hey, whether it's habitual secrecy or preventing accidents, there are only a few possibilities.

Zhang Qiliang smiled and said, "It's probably just an error; flight times aren't always accurate."

The group of people looked at each other in bewilderment.

Xiao Mao was the first to react. He leaped up from the tree root, rushed to him in a few strides, circled him three times, and kept muttering, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck—"

Zhang Qiliang let him do as he pleased.

After he finished walking around, I reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

"What about the incubator?" he asked.

Xiao Mao was taken aback for a moment: "Huh?"

"The insulated box," Zhang Qiliang repeated, "Where did I put mine?"

Xiao Mao opened his mouth and pointed to the pile of boxes in the corner.

Zhang Qiliang walked over, bent down, and pulled out his own box from a pile of boxes.

He weighed it in his hand, checked the box for any damage, and then looked up at the clock on the wall.

10: 47.

The morning rush hour is over, but the afternoon rush hour hasn't even started yet.

He turned to look at his colleagues, who were still standing there, staring at him as if he were an alien.

"What?" Zhang Qiliang waved his phone. "Nobody's online?"

"Go online!" Xiao Mao was the first to follow up.

"Online now~~~" Old Zhou picked up the cigarette that had fallen on the ground, put it back in his mouth, and walked towards his electric scooter.

Ah Hui also realized what was happening, scratching his head as he walked towards his car.

At the station entrance, everyone began to get busy.

The charger was unplugged, the insulated box was strapped on, and the helmet was put on.

One car after another started up, drove out of the station, and blended into the city streets.

Zhang Qiliang watched quietly.

Dozens of meters away, in the directions of the four intersections, stood three to five uniformed men.

I didn't get close, I didn't disturb them, I just stood there at a distance.

"Ming-ge, aren't we leaving yet?"

Xiao Mao was the last to set off, stopping his electric scooter next to Zhang Qiliang.

He noticed that although Zhang Qiliang had changed into his work clothes, he didn't ride his electric bike but instead carried an insulated box, which he found a bit strange.

"Let's go."

Zhang Qiliang took out his phone and tapped a few times.

One after another, notifications popped up on the screen indicating that the order had been accepted.

Xiao Mao leaned over for a look: "Five orders? Not bad luck... Oh dear, how come they're coming from all over the country..."

Zhang Qiliang put his phone back in his pocket and smiled at him.

The next moment, it took off into the air.

Xiao Mao opened his mouth.

He sat on the electric scooter, looking up as the figure rose higher and higher—over the old locust tree at the station entrance, over the rooftop of the six-story residential building across the street, rising higher and higher, farther and farther away.

The sunlight was shining from that direction, making him squint.

The figure paused in mid-air, adjusted its direction, and then—

It flew away.

It moved with incredible speed yet with composure, the insulated box on its back reflecting the sunlight, looking like an ordinary, flying little blue box.

Xiao Mao tilted his head back, mouth agape, watching the tiny dot grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared into the city skyline.

"Fuck."

The phone rang.

Xiao Mao looked down and saw a group message:

[Ah Hui: Ming-ge has flown away!!!]

[Old Zhou: I saw it.]

[Ahui: He's carrying a suitcase!!!]

[Old Zhou: I said I saw it.]

[Ahui: So he'll be delivering like this from now on???]

Old Li: ...

[Ahui: Brother Li, say something!]

[Old Li: It's fine.]

[Ahui: ???]

Xiao Mao stared at the screen for three seconds, then looked up and glanced again at the direction where nothing could be seen anymore.

In the distance, towards the four intersections, groups of uniformed men, in small groups, were all looking up.

The movements were very synchronized.

Xiao Mao suddenly smiled.

He turned the ignition, and the electric scooter slowly started, turned the corner, and disappeared into the city streets.

Behind me, the sun was shining brightly.

The wind is just right.

Everything is just right.

94 Making a fuss over nothing

Chen Yi'e was woken up by hunger.

The moment he opened his eyes, he stared at the ceiling for three seconds.

Who am I? Where am I? What time is it?

The jumbled memories slowly came flooding back: the last joint test before the project went live, that damn concurrency bug, Lao Zheng's message at 3 a.m. saying "Tested and done, no problems, you can go to sleep now," and the last image of myself replying "okay" and then collapsing onto the bed.

Chen Yi'e, 36 years old, former development engineer of Big Goose Group.

More accurately, the Goose Group provides society with highly skilled personnel.

Logically speaking, given Chen Yi'e's age, experience at a major company, and still possessing coding skills, it shouldn't be difficult for him to make a living in the industry.

But after ten years of continuous high-intensity work, Chen Yi'e was physically and mentally exhausted.

So when she was laid off last month, Chen Yi'e didn't rush to find another job. Instead, she went back to her hometown in Y City and planned to take a break for a few months.

Before he could even rest for a month, a former colleague he had gotten along well with—well, someone who had also been sent into the workforce—Old Zheng, came looking for him.

"Brother Goose, I'm in dire need of help!" Old Zheng's voice was trembling with tears on the phone. "This project at the new company is killing me. I'm just one step away from giving up. Please, give me a hand!"

Chen Yi'e initially wanted to refuse.

But then I thought, who knows when I might have to beg for help myself? In times of emergency, if you help someone today, they will help you tomorrow.

So I agreed.

Then I plunged headfirst into this damn project.

The project that Lao Zheng took over was both tedious and complex. When Chen Yi'e first joined, she almost quit immediately—the code was a complete mess, there was almost no documentation, and the requirements changed every few days. But since she had agreed, she had to bite the bullet and get on with it.

In the past three days, he has barely slept a wink.

From Wednesday morning to Friday night, he only managed to get intermittent sleep for less than six hours. He finally made it to the early hours of this morning, and the last round of regression testing finally went through. He sent a voice message in the group: "It's done, it's done. I'm going to sleep now, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Then, without even taking a shower, he collapsed onto the bed and passed out.

Regaining her memory, Chen Yi'e picked up her phone from the bedside table and squinted as she swiped it a couple of times.

When the screen lit up, he subconsciously tilted his head—it was too bright.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the time clearly: 11:17 AM.

You slept for more than six hours? That's alright.

He opened the food delivery app, scrolled through his order history, and saw a familiar store name.

I've ordered from them a few times before, and I remember they were delivered pretty quickly.

"One more order."

Confirmation, payment received.

Then he put down his phone, preparing to continue lounging around for a while longer—

A smell entered my nostrils.

Chen Yi'e lowered her head and smelled herself.

Tsk.

The smell of not having showered for three consecutive days is truly touching.

He sighed, struggled to his feet, and dragged himself toward the bathroom.

I turned on the water, found my clothes, grabbed a towel, and started taking a shower.

The moment the hot water hit his body, he almost groaned in pleasure. The fatigue of the past three days seemed to be washed away by the water, flowing smoothly down the drain.

I had just rinsed myself off a little, squeezed out some shampoo, and started rubbing it all over my head until it was covered in foam—

The phone rang.

Chen Yi'e sighed, closed her eyes, and reached for the sink by memory. Her fingers traced across the surface, touched the cold metal block, picked it up, and pressed the button to connect.

Those of us in this line of work, let alone taking this kind of bath, we have to bring our phones with us even when taking another kind of bath.

This is an occupational hazard; it's incurable.

"Hello, your takeout has arrived."

Chen Yi'e was stunned for a moment.

"...There must be some mistake?" He wiped the water from his face. "I think I only placed the order three minutes ago?"

“That’s right,” the other person replied. “Washington Mansions, Building 3, Unit 502, are you Mr. Chen?”