"Brother, here's some tea!"
"Brother, are you hot? Let me fan you!"
"Big brother..."
In the office on the first floor, Alex Carter reclined lazily in his chair, absorbed in a TV show. Next to him, the ghost driver was bustling about, showing excessive hospitality.
"Alright, take a break," Alex finally said, pausing his show. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Brother, just call me Old Du," the ghost driver replied, leaning in with a sheepish grin.
"And how can I trust you won't disappear as soon as you leave?"
Old Du, sensing the importance of the moment, quickly responded, "I swear my loyalty to you, brother, is as vast as the ocean!"
"And how do you plan to prove it?" Alex asked, intrigued.
If Old Du tried any tricks, Alex was prepared to sell him off to the mines.
Feeling the tension, Old Du said, "Wait a moment, brother!" He produced a steering wheel from within himself and placed it carefully on the table. "Most of my strength is tied to the hearse, and without these parts, I'm significantly weakened."
"If you ever need me, just press the steering wheel, and I'll know."
Alex looked at the steering wheel, his lips twitching. Of all the possibilities he'd imagined, a steering wheel wasn't one of them.
"You're a real genius," Alex remarked, amused. "Alright, you can go."
Old Du nodded vigorously, like a prisoner granted amnesty.
---
After Old Du left, Alex checked the time. It was already past two in the morning.
"At this hour, no one else is coming," he reasoned. He removed the "Open" sign and closed the shutter before resuming his show.
---
The next day, around three in the afternoon, Alex was roused by his ringing phone.
"What is it?" he mumbled groggily, answering the call.
"Hello, are you hiring a photographer? I'm calling to apply."
A sweet female voice echoed through the line.
"What photographer? Wrong number!" Alex said, hanging up hastily before drifting back to sleep.
A minute later, it hit him—he'd actually posted a recruitment sign last night.
Oh no!
A potential candidate, and he'd brushed her off!
Alex felt like crying over the lost opportunity.
His phone rang again, the same number flashing on the screen. Alex felt a spark of hope.
"Sorry, I checked, and I didn't make a mistake," the voice said, sounding puzzled.
Alex paused, opting to play dumb. "Who is this?"
"I'm here to apply for the photographer position," she replied after a moment.
"Ah, yes! I am hiring. I didn't get your call earlier; you must have dialed wrong," Alex replied smoothly, covering his blunder. "Where are you now?"
"I'm outside your office door."
"Hold on, I'll be right down to open up."
---
Outside Alex's office, an eighteen-year-old girl stood waiting. She had a delicate face, her hair tied in a ponytail. Dressed in a white T-shirt, skinny jeans, and white sneakers, she looked both slender and energetic.
She stared at her phone, puzzled by the two call records.
"Wrong number, huh?"
"Haha... does he think I'm an idiot?"
---
"Clank!"
The shutter door rolled open. Alex hung the "Open" sign back up, then greeted the girl. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"It's fine, I haven't been here long," she replied, her smile hinting at mild sarcasm.
"Great, great," Alex said, pretending not to notice. "Let's talk about the position!"
The girl entered the office, her eyes scanning the space. Though small, just over 100 square meters, it was tidy.
"Eh? What's this?" she paused, noticing something in the corner.
A sack?
"Oh, nothing, you must have been mistaken," Alex said quickly, hiding the sack and changing the subject. "Why don't we sit and talk?"