In the hospital corridor at twelve o'clock in the night, the smell of disinfectant was cold and pungent, like countless fine needles piercing Su Wanying's lungs.
She clutched the thin payment slip, her fingers turning white from exertion. The number on it - five hundred thousand, was like an insurmountable mountain, weighing her down.
The door of the dialysis room not far away was closed, and inside was the only relative in her life, her mother who suffered from sudden acute renal failure.
The doctor's words still ring in my ears: "We must find a kidney source and perform a transplant as soon as possible, otherwise..."
On the phone screen, the dazzling "37.6 Yuan" in the bank card balance column declared her final despair.
Where else could she go to raise money?
Su Wanying leaned against the cold wall blankly, countless sympathetic or indifferent faces flashed through her mind, and finally settled on a damaged piece of blue porcelain.
It was the only relic left by my father, a fragment of a Song Dynasty Ru kiln brought back from an archaeological site that could not be officially recorded.
Childhood memories emerged like fragments. Her father's generous hand held her little hand, and in the dark warehouse of the museum, he told her in a gentle voice: "Wan Ying, porcelain cannot speak, but every crack on its body remembers everything she has experienced."
Crack, remember everything…
Su Wanying straightened up suddenly, and the last trace of hesitation in her eyes was replaced by determination.
The protagonist is so handsome