"My father's medical record is still under the pillow, and the debt collection text messages have blown up the screen of his mobile phone. Lin Hao squatted in the corner of Jiangzhou Night Market, guarding three broken cardboard boxes - all the belongings he owned when setting up a street vendor. 'Does a poor guy deserve a seat?' Next door The owner of the antique stall kicked over his weighing beam, and the broken porcelain fragments splashed at his feet. He went to pick it up with red eyes, but saw a line of golden light suddenly floating on the broken bowl that was broken in half: "Remnants of azure glaze from Ru Kiln in the Northern Song Dynasty, worth 3.2 Million after repair."
That night, the wind in Jiangzhou City carried the smoke from the barbecue stalls and blew away the fog in Lin Hao's eyes.
From today on, they are the ones in debt, and he - wants the whole night market to kneel down and beg him to pick up the slack! "
