The next day.
With the sound of the wake-up whistle, the grueling Monday began.
The new recruits had already started, each holding a large mop, lined up together to mop the garage.
Four large mops combined were one and a half meters wide. After about a dozen back-and-forth sweeps by four people, the garage floor could be covered once. After twice, with a proper cleanup of the nooks and crannies, the garage would be considered mopped.
Han Yong walked with a limp, his face showing a kind of despair that suggested life wasn't worth it, and his movements were sluggish.
Fang Huai saw that because of Han Yong's slow movements, the "mop army" left a gap in the trail of water they were leaving behind.
His obsessive-compulsive disorder kicked in.
Fang Huai patted Han Yong's thigh, causing him to make a "hissing" sound.
Han Yong was almost in tears, "What are you doing! It hurts!"