The South Has Her Light

When Xu Qinghe was 26 years old, her father was hospitalized and her mother forced her to sign an agreement. The house is given to my brother. She shares the responsibility for her parents' pension and medical care. She asked: "What about me?" No one in the ward answered. Her fiancé said she cared too much, her relatives said she was ignorant, and her younger brother said, "You will get married sooner or later, why are you fighting over this?" Only then did Xu Qinghe realize that her sensibleness over the years was not regarded as hard work in the eyes of others, but as it should be. She broke off the engagement and returned to Shenzhen. Live in a bed room, work the night shift, run the warehouse, make forms, pay rent, and pay medical bills. Every note is taken, every word is recorded, and documents are saved one by one. Others thought she was cold-blooded, so she said, "Bring me the receipts." When others thought she was fussy, she said, "Write clearly." Later, the company's clients asked her to take charge of the project; the transfer of the house in her hometown finally couldn't be hidden anymore. Relatives surrounded her and asked her to give in one last step. Xu Qinghe spread three years of transfer records on the table. "I gave in." "Now, it's your turn to make it clear."