The day's work was over, and the lazy light of the setting sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows and cut orange-yellow geometric patterns on the carpet.
Mr. Zhang, who was busy with everything, lay on his back on the boss's chair, closing his eyes and concentrating, looking like he was asleep. Zhang Jinyan was tidying up the messy desk at the side.
The shirt he is wearing is ironed and clean, and the color is spotless white. The fabric fits the lines of his body and is tucked into his trousers. His waist is so thin that people can't help but have the illusion that he can hold it with one hand.
Zhang Yuchuan opened his eyes just a slit behind him and stared calmly at the assistant's back as he packed his things.
Zhang Jinyan, who was completely unaware of this, reached for a marble paperweight placed on the corner of the table. The B*tt0cks wrapped in the soft fabric of the trousers became very conspicuous under this action, making them round and straight.
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