Twenty-Eight Thousand Is Owed, Vitasoy Is Given

The tuition fee of 28,000 yuan was packed in the envelope, which was much heavier than my physics score. With a score of sixty-eight, he was at the bottom of the class. Someone carved four characters on the desk, and I couldn't clean them out after two years. Then I noticed that there was a box of chocolate Vitasoy in the desk drawer every day, which was warm. The person who gave it was named Zhou Yi. He was so good at science that he was too good to be true, and he talked so little that people wanted to kick him. He watched me by the second floor window for five or six minutes while I was crying and hiccupping. He later told me this, his tone sounding like he was stating a force analysis problem. He said his mother regretted giving birth to him. When he rolled up his sleeves on the rooftop, the moonlight shone on the nine-needle scar. He said you can go. I didn't leave. We argued, disagreed, and sent thousands of messages to our phones across the Pacific Ocean. He made sweet and sour pork ribs in Pittsburgh and put too much sugar. I learned my dad's caramel-colored pork ribs here and waited for him to come back. He said the wisteria flowers bloom every year. This book is for anyone who feels they are not good enough. Afraid of not doing well in exams, afraid of not being able to pay tuition fees, afraid that the people I like will not like me. It doesn't matter. Someone will notice you. Noticed it from day one.