Transtor: der Transtions
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Halfway through taking a step, he suddenly stopped.
There was a sense of deyed realization, and the entire body of the Fatty froze in pbsp;
That's right. If he hadn’t noticed the neer pced close to him and had goo sleep normally, what would have happened afterward?
He feared he would end up like Dr. Jiang st night.
Caught in a nightmare.
Then he would die.
And bee the "dead fatty" Dr. Jiang had mentioned.
The bag he was holding, ly packed, dropped to the ground with a loud "thud," and the half-bottle of iced tea inside rolled out, boung and hitting the wall with a "bang."
"Dr. Jiang..."
The blood drained from his face as he turned around trembling, only to find that the bedroom door had already been closed, and the stiote on the doorknob was gone.
A few seds ter, Dr. Jiang’s voice came from ihe room, "Don’t disturb me tomorrow m," his voice muffled, as if he was coed in the bs.
"Before 11:00 AM, I want to see the pork ribs oable," he tinued, "Also, make sure the minced garlic, aged vinegar, seafood soy sauce, and green onions are properly sautéed."
Fatty acted even more obediently than Dr. Jiang had instructed. When he woke up in the m, he moved slowly, barely making a sound.
He tiptoed dowairs, went to the m market, bought some fresh yam, peeled it, cut it into pieces, and put it into the pot to stew with the ed pork ribs.
He also bought some small cucumbers, still not as thick as his fingers, and pickled them with salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and so on. By the time Dr. Jiang woke up, they would be ready as a side dish.
The pork ribs were i by 8:00 AM, and Fatty calcuted the time so that he could wake up Dr. Jiang at exactly 10:50.
In the meantime, he began ing up.
Wearing rubber gloves, he started in Dr. Jiang's office, ing the desk, chairs, and the puter. Fatty picked up Dr. Jiang's keyboard and couldn’t help but frown.
In the unlocked drawer, there were twe rolls of toilet paper.
He ed meticulously, not missing any ers.
Having worked in housekeeping and knowing a little about renovation, this was no trouble for him—it just took some time.
Just as he was croug on the floor, holding disiant spray in one hand and scrubbing stubborn stains with a cloth iher, he heard footsteps from the stairs.
Fatty looked up just as Dr. Jiang appeared at the er.
"Dr. Jiang," Fatty greeted him enthusiastically, "You’re up early. It’s just past 10:00 AM, the ribs aren’t ready yet."
Dr. Jiang seemed still half-asleep, his eyelids barely lifting. Like a zombie, he stumbled toward the bathroom by the stairs.
Soon, the sound of him washing up could be heard.
After a refreshing sound of flowing water, Dr. Jiang spoke slowly, "It’s fine, I wait a bit."
"Thank you for your hard work, Dr. Jiang."
Dr. Jiang’s dazed state only started to ge once he had the first bite of the ribs.
Sihey had been stewing for a long time, the meat on the ribs fell off easily with chopsticks. Dr. Jiang picked up a big piece, dipped it in the sauce, and after rolling it a few times, stuffed it into his mouth.
Fatty served Dr. Jiang more broth and reminded, "Be careful, Dr. Jiang, it’s hot." He paused and added, "You don’t have to rush, no one’s fighting you for it."
The e of ribs was nearly finished ihan half an hour. After the meal, Fatty went to the kit to wash the dishes while Dr. Jiang leaned ba the sofa, pig his teeth.
"Fatty," Dr. Jiang said with his eyes half-closed, "Are you free ter?"
The sound of water i grew softer.
"I’m not busy, Dr. Jiang," Fatty dried his hands with a towel and turo answer, "Do you need something?"
"e with me this afternoon."
"Got it, Dr. Jiang."
Iernoon, as they prepared to leave, Dr. Jiang looked very and tidy. He had a face that wealthy women liked, and now, with his well-dressed appearance, he gave the impression of a young, successful professional.
"Dr. Jiang," Fatty, standing at the door, looked down at the tips of his shoes. He gathered his ce aated before asking, "Do you think I o tidy up?"
"I’m meeting a t, not a rian," Dr. Jiang adjusted his tie, cutting off Fatty’s thought immediately.
When they arrived at the street er, Fatty hesitated. He had expected the employer to send a car, or at least they would take a taxi, but Dr. Jiang led him straight to the bus stop.
Fatty pursed his lips and spoke after a while: "Dr. Jiang, we’re taking the bus?"
"Mm-hmm."
"But..." Fatty tinued, "Dr. Jiang, do you have any ge? I’ve run out of s."
At the mention of money, Dr. Jiang’s gaze grew deeper for a moment, but it quickly passed as his eyes moved away from Fatty, notig something in the er nearby.
Fatty followed Dr. Jiang’s gaze and saw an old man walking toward them, leaning on a e with a limp.
The old man was wearing a tattered, dark red sweater, the colr worn and frayed.
One of his legs seemed to be broken, and he hunched over in an awkward manner, his eyes cloudy and dull, clearly blind.
He was holding a broken bowl, the rim chipped, and ihere were a few scattered s.
It seemed like this was his means of survival—begging.
People waiting for the bus along the way avoided him, with only a few tossing one or two yuan s into the bowl, the s making a sharp k as they hit the bottom.
Everyone’s eyes showed their disdain.
So pitiful.
The old man reminded Fatty of his grandfather, and his mood grew heavy.
Soon, the old man approached Fatty and Dr. Jiang. He raised his head, trembling as he held out the broken bowl and spoke in a pitiful tohank you, kind person, I haveen for three days..."
Just as Fatty, with tears in his eyes, was about to give the old man a 5 or 10 yuan note—
In the sed.
To Fatty's shock, Dr. Jiang casually reached out and started rummaging through the old man’s bowl.
He picked out the two est one-yuan s and ched them in his hand.
The old man froze. Not only did he not feel the bowl bee heavier, but it actually felt lighter. He immediately realized what had happened.
His dirty face turned slightly red with anger. He reached out with his other arm and grabbed Dr. Jiang’s sleeve.
His mouth opened, revealing a set of bd yellow teeth.
Just as Fatty thought Dr. Jiang would be scolded or even hit by the old man, Dr. Jiang calmly straightened up and slowly cleared his throat.
"Ahem."
The pin sound of clearing his throat caused the old man’s as to freeze.
The anger on his face quickly faded, repced by a look of fear.
It was as if he reized the person in front of him.
The hand that had grabbed the sleeve immediately let go, and the old man csped his broken bowl, hiding it.
Then, muttering curses, he walked away, disappearing from Fatty’s sight.
(End of the Chapter)
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