On the first day of school, I mistook the most untouchable, icy school bully for a student in need of financial aid.
Seeing him munch on bread every day, I couldn't stand by, so I started a daily “poverty relief” meal plan.
Little cakes, sweet-and-sour ribs, lovingly packed lunches... I fattened him up until he was rosy-cheeked, and the way he looked at me grew increasingly strange.
Then one day, a line of top-of-the-line luxury cars pulled up at the school gate. The bully stepped out of the lead car and cornered me against a wall, his voice low. “My little patron, you've been feeding me for so long. Now... it's my turn to take care of you.”
