Dressed as a laid-off female worker in the 1990s, with two and eight dollars in her pocket, and a leaky roof above her head.
No rebirth, no system.
Just relying on one word to settle accounts, my ex-husband was laid off, the factory was closed down, and the real estate circle in the provincial capital was thrown into chaos.
Later, someone called her "Auntie 90".
She said: "You can call it whatever you want, just don't stop me from making money."
