The surrounding buildings were completely dark, with the sole exception of the fifth floor where the Songjiang Daily was located, which was still brightly lit.

Most of the review work was already done; now, only the parts needing revision required attention. David Bennett tried to relax in his chair, eyes closed, listening to music.

Except for one person who was on long-term sick leave but still received a regular salary, the four manuscript reviewers each had completely different hobbies.

When they had free time, the oldest, Old Miller, liked to play mahjong on the computer; Old Thompson enjoyed studying lottery trend charts; Old Grant loved watching TV dramas. A few years ago, David Bennett liked watching American TV series, but after getting tired of them, he started listening to music with a pair of excellent headphones. Night after night of watching American shows and listening to English songs, plus having Shawn Harris, who taught English at a university, meant his English skills hadn’t deteriorated much since college. He could sing quite a few English songs very fluently.

David Bennett's habit of listening to music gave some editors and layout staff a headache, because he listened while reviewing manuscripts, so anyone trying to reach him on the internal line often couldn’t get through—they had to walk over to find him.

The chief editor of the editorial office, Mark Sutton, had already smoked half a pack of cigarettes that night, and he still wanted more. For this subway special edition, Mark Sutton had taken on five pages. Even though they started layout a week in advance, and the leadership had reviewed it several times, with the number of topics cut from 24 to 20 and then to 16, on this final day, they were still adjusting the horizontal and vertical headlines.

Not yet forty and already balding, Mark Sutton felt exhausted; he couldn’t hold out without a cigarette to perk him up. Seeing David Bennett leaning back in his chair, listening to music and resting, Mark Sutton walked over and tapped him awake, gesturing toward the smoking room.

Lighting a cigarette, Mark Sutton took a deep drag and said, “There’s no way we’ll get off early today. It’s been four or five days like this—really grueling! If this keeps up, I seriously wonder if I’ll just drop dead one day.”

David Bennett held a cigarette but didn’t light it, just rolling it between his fingers as he looked out at the streetlights and said, “This is just lines 1 and 2. Didn’t you do the layout for the master plan? There’s still line 3, line 4, line 5... Even without the subway, whenever it rains hard, snows heavily, or there’s a strong wind, when haven’t we had to work overtime?”

Mark Sutton stubbed out his barely smoked cigarette and put it back in the pack, saying, “Yeah, the subway’s not so bad—at least it’s not disgusting to work on. But I really can’t stand those other topics. Heavy rain gets tied to urban civilization, heavy snow to city strength, strong winds to city warmth. How can such a great city still have a talent drain and rank so low among its peers? If we editors are this disgusted, imagine how the readers must feel.”

David Bennett glanced at the smoking room door and said, “Keep your voice down, the editor-in-chief is here tonight.”

Mark Sutton snorted, “If I hadn’t had a kid a few years back, I definitely would’ve quit. Hey, you saw the subway route map on my page, right? If we’d seen that thing ten years ago—no, even five years ago—and bought a couple of apartments near the subway entrance, whether we flipped them or rented them out, would we still be burning the midnight oil here every day?”

A “ding” sounded—David Bennett got a text message.

It was from Shawn Harris.

“Uncle, I’m going to bed first. Drive safe on your way home.”

Shawn Harris was the same age as David Bennett. They met by chance in 2009, then were surprised to discover they were both class of 2001 alumni, and miraculously became a couple. After more than four years of marriage, they respected and loved each other, and were the model couple among their friends.

Shawn Harris often watched Korean dramas, and because David Bennett's facial features, build, and temperament were about eighty percent similar to a “Uncle” in one of the dramas, she’d called him “Uncle” ever since they met. He tried to correct her a few times, but it didn’t work, so he just let her call him that.

At 2 a.m., they were finally almost done. The editor-in-chief on duty reminded the review department to do a final check of the proofs.

“Page 1 is good!”

“Page 2 is good!”

“Page 3 is good!”

...

“Page 11 is good!”

“Page 12 is good!”

...

“Subway special edition is good!”

At 2:15 a.m., the final proofs were done.

Driving home in the second half of the night, the roads were clear and smooth, taking less than twenty minutes. The subway special edition was finally finished. David Bennett should have felt a bit more relaxed, but sitting in the car, he couldn’t shake a faint sense of frustration.

Maybe the pressure had just been too much lately.

He turned on the music, and Shinedown’s “Miracle” started playing. This was David Bennett's habit—playing some energizing rock songs while driving at night to keep from getting drowsy. In his car, there were albums from two bands: Shinedown and Nickelback. David Bennett had already decided that on the weekend, he’d take Shawn Harris, call a few friends, and go sing at KTV all night.

It was only after starting work that David Bennett discovered his talent for singing. In the first few years, when work was unhappy and stressful, he used singing to relieve the pressure. Before he got married, he sometimes went alone, belting out whatever songs he wanted, forcing his way through even the high notes, sometimes to the point of almost running out of breath. Then one time, somehow, it was as if a switch flipped and he suddenly figured out a vocal technique on his own. After that, at the company’s annual parties organized by the union, he swept the competition for three years in a row with high-pitched songs, beating all the in-house talents and a few strong outside contenders. He won the 10,000 yuan grand prize three years straight, and that money became his first car fund.

As he was almost home, he came across a car accident.