There were seven people lined up in front of the payment window.
Xin Zhiyi clutched the payment slip, her knuckles turning white. She turned over the numbers above seventeen times, and every zero was like a soldering iron on her retinas—two hundred and thirty-seven thousand.
Three days.
My mother stayed in the ICU for forty-seven days, and the daily expenses were like a meat grinder, crushing the Xin family's little wealth to nothing. She worked seven jobs, working as a cashier at a convenience store during the day, filling in as a substitute teacher at night, and shaking cups at a milk tea shop on weekends. But the cost of one night in the ICU was enough for her to stand in a convenience store for half a month.
The people in the front moved one by one. Xin Zhiyi stared at the glass of the payment window, her mind racing as to who else she could borrow from. Xin Ruoyao? Last time I said money was tight. Roommate? I just borrowed 3,000 yuan last month and haven't paid it back. Online loan? The interest rate is terrifyingly high, but she has already clicked on several applications and is waiting for the review notification.
When it was her turn, she handed the order in. "Insufficient balance." The nurse in the window didn't even raise her head.
