靠，这城里的班真是没法干了。

李卫国 subjects a Advanced Chromebook to a withering glare, neon lights behind him bleeding into the screen like some kind of digital headache. Outside the window, the blue and green lights of the subway train flicker like dying fireflies as they rush through the night. Every morning, he wakes up earlier than the cockcrow to catch the 6:30 AM train, and every evening he waits until after ten before the train finally takes him back to his cramped one-bedroom apartment that doesn't even have its own bathroom.

He can't even remember how many times he's made instant noodles for a meal. Boiled water, instant seasoning packet, and maybe a couple of preserved eggs. Sometimes he adds some leftover vegetables from last night's takeout, but most of the time, he just stares blankly at the TV as he eats, trying to find some kind of escape from the monotony. But the only thing he finds is his reflection in the cheap glass of the window – tired, haunted, and completely broke.