At 7:40 in the morning, Shen Zhengning left home as usual, walking through the community garden along the winding red rubber path. Entering September, the early mornings were no longer as clear and hot as in summer, yet they hadn't suddenly turned into the chill of late autumn. It was the most cool and pleasant time of the year, and indeed of the day.

A gray-black French Bulldog without a collar quietly overtook him from behind. Its owner followed leisurely, a typical image of a Sheng'an City 'old native'—a high-bridged nose, a short crew cut, eyelids drooping to cover half his pupils, giving him a perpetually sleepy and lazy appearance. He hummed a little tune as if no one else was around, completely oblivious to the fact that he was walking his dog off-leash.

Shen Zhengning restrainedly averted his gaze from the wrinkled nape of the French Bulldog's neck and heard loud barking ahead. A Shiba Inu, about calf-high, was barking loudly at a tall Golden Retriever across from it. The Golden Retriever, tolerant and silent, ignored it. Their owners, holding leashes, passed each other by. The Shiba Inu's owner gave an embarrassed smile, while the Golden Retriever's owner silently nodded in acknowledgment.

Outside the community gate was an internal road about five hundred meters long, which the developer had named 'Wutong Avenue,' choosing tall wutong trees for landscaping. Layers of green shade separated four quiet villa areas. There were few pedestrians on the road; occasionally, someone would walk by with two plump Corgis.

Many dog lovers lived in this community. Every day when he went out, he would encounter various breeds of pet dogs, but Shen Zhengning had never approached to pet or play with those fluffy little things, let alone strike up a conversation with their owners. He looked like an indifferent passerby who disliked dogs.

The end of Wutong Avenue was the main gate of the community. A right turn a few dozen meters outside the gate led to the main road. The Xinliu River, which cut through most of the city, ran parallel to the main road. Several hundred meters further, two white bridges spanning the Xinliu River faced each other from a distance: the 'Gaoxin Avenue Road Bridge' and the 'Gaoxin Avenue East Road Bridge.' To the west of the road bridge was Xinliu Park, built around the river. The area under the east road bridge was undeveloped—the rainy season had just passed, and the trees had grown wildly, looking at a glance like a deserted tropical rainforest.

Across the bridge, a few scattered, brand-new office buildings stood amidst a large expanse of wasteland and elevated highways, looking somewhat out of place. This commercial office area was still under construction, with much of its infrastructure yet to be completed. It was clearly far from 'livable,' but because the land price was quite cheap, it had attracted many startups.

Shen Zhengning worked for an internet company called 'Juquan Pharmaceuticals.' The company wasn't large, the amount of data involved was limited, and the demands were simple. Overall, the job was quite relaxed.

He stood still in front of the facial recognition time clock. The successful clock-in screen displayed '8:10'—a commute of exactly thirty minutes, leaving him twenty minutes before work started to leisurely finish breakfast and make coffee. If he took the bus or rode a bike, he would have a bit more time to sleep, but for sub-healthy people like them who sat in front of a computer all day, an hour's walk back and forth daily was the bare minimum of physical exercise.

At 8:30, colleagues began to arrive at their desks one after another. The office filled with a mixed aroma of food and coffee. Shen Zhengning opened his email and cleared a few unread messages. His browser popped up a colorful news page. He glanced over it briefly. After the celebrity gossip came social news with sensational headlines—'Another "Special Training Institution" Exposed, Police Have Intervened in the Investigation,' 'Tenant Goes Missing, Apartment Piled With Trash, Housekeepers at a Loss,' 'Life Savings Down the Drain, Deeply Regretful, Beware of This New Type of Scam'—and he closed the pop-up, completely uninterested.

"Zhengning."

Someone stopped by his desk. The young man was slender, dressed in a light blue shirt and gray casual pants, looking neat and tidy. The ID badge on his chest read 'Ye Tongsheng, Information Security Engineer.'

He smilingly handed over a light green tote bag. Shen Zhengning subconsciously stood up but didn't immediately take it. "Morning. What's this...?"

Ye Tongsheng placed the tote bag on the desk, blinked, and said cheerfully in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, "A small thank-you gift. I was lucky to have you that day, otherwise my year-end bonus would have been deducted into the negatives."

The two were colleagues from different departments and rarely interacted outside of work. So, when Shen Zhengning suddenly received a WeChat message from Ye Tongsheng a few days ago on a weekend night asking for a favor, he was a little surprised.

At that time, Ye Tongsheng was on annual leave in the United Kingdom when he suddenly received news of a system failure late at night and scrambled to find someone for emergency repairs. Logically, this was a back-end job and had little to do with him; Shen Zhengning could have politely declined. But Ye Tongsheng was clearly at his wit's end that day, vaguely mentioning that other colleagues were 'unavailable.' Seeing how distressed he was, Shen Zhengning ultimately couldn't bring himself to refuse.

"You're being too kind," Shen Zhengning said gently. "We're colleagues, it was just a small favor. No need to be so formal."

Ye Tongsheng's smile widened as he pushed the bag toward him. "It's nothing expensive, just think of it as a souvenir. We're colleagues, after all."

Since he put it that way, Shen Zhengning didn't insist on refusing. Such exchanges of favors are common in the workplace, and compared to someone saying nothing after receiving help, Ye Tongsheng's appreciative attitude was much more pleasant. "In that case, I'll accept. Thank you for the souvenir."

Ye Tongsheng's eyes curved into a smile, and he seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "I'm the one who should be saying thank you."

"How was your vacation? Did you have fun in the United Kingdom?"

"It was pretty good. I like Sherlock Holmes, so I bought a lot of merchandise."

"A mystery novel enthusiast?"

"Haha, I guess so. Don't you think my job is a lot like a detective's? Alright, I won't disturb your work any longer. I'll head back now."

He ended the small talk, gave Shen Zhengning a cheerful wave, and turned to leave the office.

Shen Zhengning took the green gift bag. Inside was a box of tea, a box of butter cookies, and a box of commemorative postcards—all everyday souvenirs that weren't overly expensive. He took out the cookies and tea, put the postcards in his laptop bag, and opened the office software on his desktop.

A question lingered in his mind, but he didn't ask Ye Tongsheng. Compared to a direct approach, Shen Zhengning preferred to probe for answers through observation and indirect questioning.

'Why did he ask me for help?'

At 7:30 in the evening, Shen Zhengning left the office with his bag. The sky had already darkened. Incandescent lights illuminated the empty hallway, creating a gray, desolate atmosphere. He walked toward the elevators and heard the faint sound of voices ahead. Turning the corner, he saw Ye Tongsheng and the company's Vice President, Gao Qihui, standing in front of the elevator lobby. The moment they saw him, the two of them fell silent in perfect unison.

Shen Zhengning tactfully slowed his pace and greeted them. "President Gao."

Gao Qihui was half a head shorter than both Shen Zhengning and Ye Tongsheng, rather stout, with thinning hair. However, from his clothes to his accessories, everything was brand-name. He twirled a BMW key in his short, thick fingers and grunted a lukewarm "Mm."

Ye Tongsheng merely nodded in response, his attitude quite bland. His gaze quickly returned to Gao Qihui, as if unwilling to be distracted by an unfamiliar colleague in front of his superior. This was a complete departure from his friendly and lively demeanor that morning.

Fortunately, this subtle and awkward silence didn't last long. The elevator soon arrived, and the three of them stepped into the half-full car. A moment later, with a ding, the metal doors slid open, and the elevator disgorged a large crowd of overtime office workers. Only Gao Qihui and Ye Tongsheng remained where they were.

More than a dozen small companies had offices in this building. The underground parking garage had limited spaces, and the number allocated to each company was even smaller. Therefore, the company had always required employees to park their private cars on the roadside outside, with only management allowed to use the more convenient underground garage.

The numbers on the LCD screen flickered before finally settling on a bright red B2.

After leaving the company building, the moon was already up. The road was empty, and the streetlights stood in languid silence. Shen Zhengning walked in the cool night breeze, his thoughts drifting aimlessly to what to eat for dinner—if he bought groceries and cooked, it would be at least an hour before he could eat. Takeout would also take a long time, and there were few restaurants nearby, even fewer that were both tasty and clean. Besides, eating too much so late wasn't healthy...

Crossing the road bridge, warm yellow lights dotted the area ahead. A few small stalls had been set up on the road in front of Xinliu Park. The aroma of fried food mixed with sauces became doubly tempting in the cooling night air.

Two rows of pull-up banners stood in an open area, advertising the Mid-Autumn Lantern Festival. Next to them was a jianbing stall. A red plastic sheet was printed with the yellow words 'Authentic Jianbing (Liangpi),' and a laminated menu hung beside it, listing jianbing, grilled cold noodles, hand-grabbed pancakes, various congees, and snacks. The stall was run by an old couple. The husband tended to a sausage grill, while the wife scraped excess trimmings off the hot plate and asked, "What would you like to eat?"

"A purple rice jianbing, with an extra egg, no pickled vegetables."

"Want chili?"

"Just a little is fine."

The lady boss ladled a scoop of batter from a plastic bucket, spread it evenly on the griddle, and cracked an egg on top. Shen Zhengning was silent for a moment. Seeing she made no other move, he had to speak up, "I wanted two eggs."

"Oh dear, two eggs? I forgot." The lady boss quickly took an egg from a small basket nearby. Just then, her husband took the spatula from her hand and flipped the pancake. "I'll do it. You pack up, it's time to go home."

He smiled apologetically at Shen Zhengning. "Sorry about that, we're getting old. I get sleepy at night... Do you eat scallions and cilantro?"

"It's fine, no cilantro," Shen Zhengning said. "You two work hard. Business seems good today."

The owner cheerfully replied, "It's alright."

The phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He glanced at the caller ID, silently took a deep breath, and answered, "Hello, Mom?"

"Yeah, I just got off work. Still on my way home."

"It's fine, just been a bit busy lately... I was about to buy dinner. Have you eaten? How have you been?"

"Mid-Autumn Festival..."

While listening to the phone, he glanced at the poster next to him. The Mid-Autumn Lantern Festival would be held in the park at seven in the evening on September 25th, featuring a night market and stage performances.

The last line of the poster had no period... It was agonizing for someone with OCD, but in reality, no one would care.

"I won't be coming back. We might have to work overtime. You guys celebrate together. Say hi to uncle and the others for me... Mmm, okay, bye."

He hung up the phone. The owner cut the wrapped jianbing in half, put it in a paper bag, then placed that in a plastic bag and handed it to him. "Eat it while it's hot. Our crispy cracker was freshly fried today. It won't taste the same once it gets soft."

Shen Zhengning withdrew his gaze. The heat from the thin paper bag warmed his palm, and the aroma of the fried egg was exceptionally tempting. Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to eat on the open street, even if no one would have noticed him.

It was as if an invisible suit of armor bound his limbs. No matter how much he looked forward to his dinner, he could only wait until he got home to sit at the dining table and eat the jianbing, which by then would be cold and soggy.

He said, "Thank you," and left the park, carrying the jianbing.