"Boss, could you tell me what time it is?" A girl ran in anxiously. Heath, who had just finished cooking braised fish, instinctively glanced at his phone and casually told her the time: 3:23 p.m. The exhibition would be closing soon, so many people were taking this opportunity to wander around the places they wanted to visit, to avoid missing the things they wanted to see. Heath could now enjoy a rare break, too.
But after Heath answered, he noticed that the girl before him had suddenly stopped and revealed a strange little smile. Heath looked at her in confusion, then checked his phone again. Nothing was wrong. It was indeed 3:23 p.m.-no, it was twenty-four minutes past now. But Heath felt that he was only telling someone the time. Surely there was no need to be accurate down to the second?
"Is there something you need, miss?" Heath asked the girl again. In this world, "miss" had no ambiguous connotations, just as a 2B pencil had originally been nothing more than a pencil, without any other meaning. It had to be said that it was often people who gave words different meanings, rather than anything else. In his previous life, for instance, people had initially addressed one another as "miss" and "mister," but nowadays, if you called a girl "miss," she would most likely be unhappy. Adding "little" before it made it more acceptable. If it was a man, there was nothing wrong with calling him "Mr. Qin," though certain people with dirty minds would give knowing smiles.
"You can see me." The girl suddenly began to laugh, laughing more and more happily. Then Heath saw her eyeballs fall out and land on the floor, while those hollow eyes still seemed to be looking at him. Heath regarded the