Late at night, Raman drove home with his tired body. After entering the door, he saw the lights on in the living room and his old mother was still waiting for him.

"Mom, you don't need to wait for me like this every day." Raman put down his handbag and pushed his mother back to his room to rest. But he knew that no matter what he said, his mother would wait as long as he didn't go home.

"There is food in the refrigerator, just heat it up in the microwave. Karin was bullied again at school. Today I went home crying......" The old mother said a lot, and added before entering the bedroom, "There are two letters today, and I put them on the table in the restaurant."

After finally letting my mother go to rest, Raman took out a pizza from the refrigerator and put it in the microwave, and then he had time to read the letter on the table.

Now people send mails by email or phone, etc., maybe it’s a kind of bill, Raman thought so.

Raman is an Indian with a very long name and is from the lower caste Shudra, which is slightly better than the untouchables. He relied on his own efforts and luck to run from India to the United States, and did everything possible to send his old mother and a daughter to India.

But this is already the limit of Raman's ability. Raman is already grateful for the protection of the gods when he can jump out of the fire pit in India, but he has also worked very hard in the United States.

When Raman was admitted to the computer major at Caltech in the United States and received a full scholarship, not to mention the village where he lived, even the entire Tumen caused a sensation.

However, after graduation, he couldn't find a job because of his average grades. In order to continue to get a visa, he went to study for a master's degree in biopharmaceuticals. It is said that this is a popular major. However, when he graduated from the master's degree, there was no pharmaceutical factory to hire him as an ordinary graduate student who was unfamous and had no results.

Forced to do so, Raman went to study for a PhD in business administration, hoping to develop into the business world. But he was unlucky, so he finally got into an assistant in a small trading company, responsible for importing some toys from China to the United States.

Raman is already in his forties, with an annual salary of barely enough to about 40,000 yuan. He rented a small house in Santa Monica in Los Angeles. In the eyes of his Indian relatives, he has succeeded so hard that he cannot be seen directly, but he knows that his life is actually very ordinary, and his early glory has long left him.

The company is in a bad situation recently. Raman is worried that he may not get a work visa for next year. There is more than this trouble. He sent his daughter to India but couldn't send her to a expensive private school, so she could only be bullied by other children in public schools in the community every day.

My mother got a visa on the grounds of curing her illness. Now the visa has expired long ago. Raman is very worried that the people from the Immigration Bureau will suddenly appear at his home that day.

There were so many difficulties. Raman had a headache and even a little desperate. He could not find a way to get out of the predicament, so he could only watch himself and his family fall into various troubles and find it difficult to get rid of it.

"Strange, this is not a bill." Raman first opened a letter from India, written by his past classmates. The content of the letter was very simple, and he was formally invited back to India to serve as the CEO of a pharmaceutical company.

Oh..., it sounds pretty good.

But it was a pharmaceutical company that had just been established for half a year. It had to invest but no investment, technology but no technology, no staff, and Raman didn't want to go back to India. Really, he didn't want to go back to that fire pit at all.

But Raman's current situation does not allow him to be too picky. The pharmaceutical company is in Bangalore. The classmate who wrote a letter said that although the company has just been established, it has gathered many talents who have returned from the United States. Everyone is very motivated and hopes to show their skills in generic drugs.

The company lacks a manager with extensive knowledge, energy, knowledgeable, resolute, good communication skills and noble character. After learning about Raman's study and professional experience, the company's partners all agreed that he would be the most suitable position for him.

What impressed Raman the most was the annual salary of 50,000 US dollars. This money is not only higher than his income in the United States, but also definitely included the income of the upper class in India, which is very, very, very touching!

Seeing this, Raman couldn't help but sit up straight, and his originally drowsy mind became excited. If this matter was true, it would have changed his life, even if he returned to India, it would not be impossible. Seeing that there was a phone call at the end of the letter, he immediately took out his cell phone and wanted to call to confirm the matter.

However, there is another letter.

Before dialing, Raman hesitated for a moment and decided to read another letter before talking about it. The second letter was written even simpler, but more special is that it was not printed but handwritten, and the handwriting was neat.

The letter begins with 'Dear Mr. Raman', which means that the writer wants to meet him and give him a job. However, there is no mention of the nature of the work, the address of the work, the salary, and the like.

A confused letter, who lied to me?

Raman looked at the signature and looked familiar.

Strange... Who is this Professor Kelvin?

Raman read the full name of the writer, and a famous American pharmacy and medicine emerged in his mind.

Impossible?

A member of the National Academy of Sciences, the world leader in the field of biopharmaceuticals, Nobel Prize winner, national treasure-level scholar,...

As long as you think of Professor Kelvin's series of scary titles, Raman felt that he must be watching a fantasy. Such a great man wrote letters to himself and worked, which was a joke.

Raman didn't believe it from the bottom of his heart. He looked over and over again and again on the thin letter paper, trying to find more suspicious points. Compared to the invitation letter from his classmates, this letter from Professor Kelvin brought him greater psychological fluctuations.

Such a famous big man could not make jokes, so someone must be teasing him. Raman suddenly felt very angry. As an Indian, a poor man climbed up from the bottom of the lower caste, his life was already in trouble enough that someone actually made such a bad joke for him.

Raman wanted to scold people, or to teach a good lesson to the guy who was doing such a prank. He saw that there was also a phone number on the letter paper, and he immediately dialed it over, regardless of the fact that it was already late at night.

The phone was quickly connected, and a female voice across the street said, "Hello, this is Professor Kelvin's laboratory at Columbia University Medical Center. Who are you looking for?"

A string of tall laboratory names shocked the angry Raman. He immediately shrank his eggs a little, and the anger disappeared without a trace. He hesitated for a long time before he said, "Hello, is it so late that you still have anyone at work?"

"Hahaha..., yes! The laboratory is very busy recently." The woman who answered the phone laughed and asked again: "Who are you?"

"My name is Raman." Raman regretted that he had called so recklessly, and he couldn't explain why he wanted to make this call.

But the woman on the other end of the phone did not respond to this. She seemed to have checked on the computer and reported Raman's full name and continued, "Are you here to make an appointment with Professor Kelvin? Are you free at 2 pm the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes..., yes." Raman was a little confused. He made an appointment to meet. What's going on? Could it be that it was really a letter written by Professor Kelvin?"

"That's it, do you have any other problems?" asked the wiring female voice again.

"No..., no more. Thank you! Oh..., no! Wait a minute, I want to ask if Professor Kelvin is really going to see me? I'm just a very ordinary person, and I want to say this is not a joke?"

"Oh, I don't know the specific situation, but we are indeed recruiting people here recently. Let me see, what you are going to compete for is a lab supervisor position with an annual salary of $500,000. I think Professor Kelvin will not send invitations to meet casually. Are you interested in this?"

With a click, Raman's phone fell off. He looked at the walls of his restaurant without focal length, and a word was repeated in his mind. (To be continued.)
Chapter completed!