After I Jumped Off the Building, the Drama of My Parents Raising Their Son in Poverty Began to Unfold.

"Sister, I don't want to study anymore and go to work. Little brother, you have to live up to your expectations." The day my sister left home with red eyes, I understood what poverty meant. From then on, I only ate the cheapest food in the cafeteria, sewed my clothes when they were torn, and pricked my hands with the tip of a pen when my stomach hurt. I carved my ambition into my bones, and learning became my only way out. Finally, I got the notice from Qingbei. But on the same day, I also received a death diagnosis: Crohn's disease requires exorbitantly expensive medicines, and if it cannot be cured, you will have to wear a fecal bag for life. At the dinner table, I pretended to be relaxed: "I have a friend who... Was diagnosed with a terminal illness. He was afraid of bringing down the family, so he didn't dare to tell his parents." Mom held my hand tightly: "Silly boy! You can't imitate him, even if your mother sells iron, she will treat it for you!" Dad also looked serious: "Yes, if it were you, dad would sell blood and kidneys to treat you." I believed it, and I was even more afraid that this shaky home would be crushed by me. After tossing and turning all night, I burned the notice and climbed to the top floor. The wind was strong and the fall was long. It was so long that I saw my parents smiling and giving a card to my sister: "Daughter, this is a dowry of 30 million yuan. It is our family's rule that the poor will support our sons and the rich will support our daughters." My sister stood in front of the luxurious villa with a smile, and the gems around her neck shone so brightly that I felt chilled. That's when I understood. They are all pretending to be poor to raise their sons in poverty. I am the only one who is really poor. I am so poor that I risk my life and still feel like a burden.