Chapter 1 — Ten Calls At 3:00 A.M

After being woken up ten times by the phone call to move the car, I told someone to smash my colleague's BMW. At three o'clock in the morning, I was woken up the tenth time by the phone call to move the car. The light from the phone screen is like a knife stabbing straight into the eyes. I haven't had a full night's sleep for a week straight. At that moment, the thread of reason inside me was completely severed. I screamed two words into the phone: "Smash it." The other end of the line was silent for two seconds. Then, a crisp sound rang out. The next day at work, Tien Thang of the sales department stood in front of a BMW with broken windows, crying like he had just lost his mother. He rushed in front of me, grabbed my collar, and asked if I did it or not. I cleaned my ear and turned on the phone. Guess whose voice is in the recording? 【Chapter 1】 My name is To Vien, I'm a very ordinary programmer. My biggest hobby in life is sleeping. Not the type of lying in bed scrolling through your phone, pretending to go to sleep, but high quality sleep, real goods at real prices, as soon as you lie down you fall asleep immediately. I used to be very proud of that. Until last Monday. At two forty-seven in the morning, the phone rang. Some strange. I vaguely answered the phone. "Hello, hello. Would you mind getting down and moving your car a bit, your car is blocking my way?" I was stunned for three seconds, looking at the dark parking lot outside the window. My car is in basement B2. Parking space rented by me. Never blocked anyone's way before. "You called wrongly, I didn't park there." "Aren't you the owner of the car with a phone number ending in 3927?" I looked at my phone number. End number 3927. "I am indeed 3927, but my car is not parked outside." "Oh well, I don't need to know. Your number is written on the car and I will move it." "..."I hung up the phone, turned over and went back to sleep. I thought it was just a coincidence. One o'clock Tuesday morning, the phone rang again. "Hello? Move your car, your car is blocking my door." "I don't have a car parked outside." "Then why is your number stuck on the windshield?" I sat up. What's going on? Is my phone number stuck on someone else's car? "Dude, that's not my car." "I don't care if it's your car or not. If the number is yours, you can take care of it." With a click, the other person hung up. I lay down and looked at the ceiling for half an hour. Someone used my phone number as the contact number to move their car. At three-fifteen on Wednesday morning, the phone rang again. One o'clock Wednesday afternoon, there it is again. At four o'clock on Thursday morning, there it was again. The same phone number is posted on the same car, but each call is from a different person. That proves that the other car is often parked haphazardly everywhere. Parking indiscriminately and using my number as cannon fodder. I started to investigate. I asked the caller to take a photo and send it to me. A black BMW 3 Series. I wrote down the license plate number. Then check the list of vehicle registrations in the company's parking lot. Tien Thang. Sales department. It's the person who fights with me every day in the cupboard for takeaway food, the person who pours the entire pot of coffee in the tea room into his own cup, the person who talks loudly on the phone in the elevator to show off his achievements. He taped my phone number to his car's windshield. Make a contact number to move the car. On Thursday afternoon, I went to look for him. "Mr. Tien, is it possible that the phone number to move the car on your car was written wrongly? That's my number." Tien Thang was eating a boxed lunch, his head not looking up. "Oh, is that so? Let me see, I will fix it later." "These past few days, every morning at dawn, someone calls me to move the car." "Oh, so don't answer the phone, okay?" He pointed at me with his chopsticks. "Brother, you do it." IT, don't you work overtime every day? After all, you sleep late, just help me deal with a few problems." I looked at his oily face

he three seconds. Then turned around and left. That night, at two in the morning, the phone rang again. I don't listen. Three minutes later it rang again. I turned off the phone. The next morning when I turned on the phone, there were seven missed calls. There was also a text message: "If you don't come and move the car, I'll call the police!" I took a deep breath. Tell yourself you're an adult. Adults solve problems by communicating. I went to look for Tien Thang again. "Mr. Tien, you really have to change your phone number to move the car. There were seven calls last night." Tien Thang was taking a photo to post on his personal page, showing off his Japanese lunch at noon. "What's the rush? I'm busy these past two days, I'll change it later." "Can't you change your number first? It'll only take a minute." Finally, he raised his head to look at me. I am very familiar with that look. It's like looking at an unimportant character who can be chased away at any time. "To Vien, right? How much do you earn a month?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "My car plus the license plate is worth more than a million yuan. If I put my number on it, how annoying it would be to be woken up by those people in the middle of the night. You're just a programmer, you don't have to deal with customers, so what's the point of taking a few phone calls?" He sucked on his toothpick and patted his shoulder. me. "Don't be so petty, brother. Everyone is colleagues, just help each other." After saying that, he left. I stood still, feeling an emotion that hadn't appeared for a long time. Not angry. But it's deeper than anger. It was a feeling of helplessness as if I would always have that kind of person riding on my head for the rest of my life. Old Chu passed by and saw that my face was not right. "What's wrong? Are you being provoked by Tien Thang again?" "He stuck my phone number on his car as a call number to move the car. Every morning at dawn, someone calls me." Old Chu rolled his eyes. "Damn it, can you still do that? That's too unvirtuous!" "I asked him twice, he refused to change." Old Chu thought for a while. "You find it. leader?" "What do you say when you look for a leader? Tell me that my colleague posted my phone number?" "That's right... This is not a big deal, it's not a small thing." Mr. Chu sighed. "Stop it, brother. The sales department is the company's biological child, our technical department has no say." I said nothing. Return to your seat to continue coding. Write one line. Delete it. Write another line. Delete again. My mind is full of Tien Thang's face that deserves to be beaten. But I still endure. Thursday night, I turned off the computer before going to bed. Friday morning, I turned on my phone and saw: Twelve missed calls. Four messages. The last message read: "Damn, are you dead? If you don't come, I'll slash your car!" My blood pressure immediately skyrocketed. The caller actually called the police. The police called me and asked me to cooperate in handling the matter. I explained to the police for a long time that it was not my car, but someone had put my number on the car. The police told me to negotiate a settlement myself. A person who is living a rough life cannot sleep well. Just because some bastard I've never met put my phone number on his beat-up BMW that's often parked haphazardly. I can't find a reasonable and legal way to resolve this. Change phone number? Based on what? Report to the police? The police told them to negotiate on their own. Looking for leadership? Leaders don't care about this kind of nonsense. That afternoon, I sent Tien Thang a very serious WeChat message. The content is roughly: Change your phone number to move your car today, otherwise you will have to bear the consequences. Tien Thang immediately responded with an icon. Thumbs up. After that, no more replies. In the evening, I work overtime at the company until eleven o'clock. Go home. Take a bath. Lie down. Tell yourself to stay calm. Aim

eye. One and a half hours. The phone rang. "Hello, your car is blocking..." "That's not my car. Someone else put my number on it." "I don't need to know. You go and handle it." The other person hung up the phone. Ten minutes past two. Ring again. Change to another number. "Dude, your car is blocking the emergency exit, come and move it." I didn't have the strength to explain. "That's not my car." "The number is yours, right? I'm here to change it." "...That's not my car." "So whose is it?" "My colleague's. His name is Tien Thang." "What's his phone number?" "How should I know? He won't give me one." "Then you move the car. Blocking the way." Escape will be fined." "Dude, I'm telling you for the last time. That's not my car, I don't have the keys, and I'm not at the scene. Call 114 to check the owner's information." The other person was silent for a moment. "Okay." Hang up. I threw the phone on the pillow. Look at the ceiling. Two hours and forty minutes. The phone rang again. I don't listen. It continued to ring. I stuffed my phone into the drawer. Vibration can still be heard from a wooden panel. Exactly three o'clock. Tenth call. I sat up from the bed. A wire in my head made a "beep" sound and then suddenly broke. I picked up the phone. "Say it." "Dude, your car..." "Where is it?" "Right next to the intersection of Dong Hoa Street, blocking the sidewalk." "Okay." I took a deep breath. My throat feels like it's filled with fire. "Listen carefully." "Huh?" "That car, you can beat it if you want." "...What?" "I said, that's not my car. Someone else put my number on it. I've been tormented by this phone number for a week. It's three o'clock in the morning, I haven't had a full night's sleep this whole week." My voice is scary calm. "Black BMW, Beijing license plate A-XXX, parking everywhere is a barrier." There are people calling me every day to scold me. So now you can do whatever you want. Smash, cut, drag, all of it has nothing to do with me." The other end of the line was silent for two seconds. Then: Bang! A dull sound rang out. I was stunned. "Hello?" "It's broken." The other person's voice was very calm. "Damn, it's blocking my entire path. I've been waiting for forty minutes, I can't go home after work. You say it's broken, I'm breaking it. A brick, the back glass is broken." I opened my mouth. "...Are you really broken?" "It's broken. Thank you, brother. Knowing that you agreed, I would have done it half an hour ago." With a click, the other person hung up. I sat on the bed. The phone screen is still bright. Call duration: one minute thirty-two seconds. I answered the phone, he was on the other end of the line, the entire call was recorded. I put down the phone. Lie back. Close your eyes. That night, I slept deeply like never before. 【Chapter 2】 The next morning, I arrived at the company twenty minutes earlier than usual. Not because of hard work. But because I want to see a good show. Indeed. At three minutes past nine, a scream echoed from the other end of the hallway. That volume, that tone, even though I was three layers of glass apart, I still recognized it. Tien Thang. I took the coffee, slowly walked to the window and looked down. At the entrance to the underground parking lot, Tien Thang was squatting next to a black BMW. The rear glass broke with a large hole. Glass pieces littered the back seat. He pulled his hair with one hand and frantically dialed the phone with the other. I took a sip of coffee. Um. Today's Americano coffee is especially fragrant. Ten minutes later, Tien Thang rushed up. His head was covered in sweat, his tie was tilted to one side, and his leather shoes were still covered in dust from the underground parking lot. He rushed straight to my seat. Pop! A hand slammed on the table. "To Vien!" I took off my headphones, raised my head to look at him. "Huh?" "My car! The back window was broken! Did you do it?" I put down the coffee, my expression extremely calm.