That rainy night, when he picked up a strange child from the sewage, soaked all over, I suddenly couldn't understand this man who I once ridiculed as "not understanding the sufferings of the world."
Three years ago, I held his chin and taught him to please the customers. Three years later, he became my boss and used precise instructions to polish me from a joke behind the bar into a manager who could stand alongside him.
When everyone thought this was a well-planned revenge, he placed a cedar-scented kiss on my ear:
"Teaching you how to recognize the mud is not to make you sink -"
"I want you to learn to be the real queen here."
