Eighteen years later, I was publicly humiliated by a wealthy young man because I couldn't afford the tuition.
The entire school network was suddenly hacked, and big blood-red characters scrolled on the screen: "Who bullied my brother?"
The next day, the eldest brother of a rising political star served me a meal surrounded by reporters.
On the third day, the second brother of the military soldier parachuted into the playground in a helicopter.
On the fourth day, the world's richest man, the third brother, bought the school just to relieve my boredom.
On the fifth day, the arms dealer Fourth Brother sent nuclear bomb-level "birthday fireworks".
On the sixth day, the fifth hacker sister locked down the global network and warned: "Try touching my brother again?"
I shivered and asked my dad, "How many places did you donate back then?"
He pulled out the yellowed record book: "Not many, only eighty..."
