With a foreign debt of 370,000 yuan, a thirty-year-old unemployed programmer stood on the rooftop of the seventh floor.
Guo He originally had a stable job with a monthly income of 8,000 yuan, but due to an investment explosion, his father's medical expenses, money borrowed from relatives, and the software he could borrow on his mobile phone were rolled into a hole of 370,000 yuan. The day the account came to zero, he searched the rental house for ropes and only found a charging cable. He walked to the rooftop and had one foot on the railing - a text message from his mother pulled him back from the hell.
"He Zi, let's go back to see grandma together during the Mid-Autumn Festival this year."
He canceled the lease, bought a second-hand electric car, and became a delivery boy. From then on, through wind and rain, I gave them away one by one and returned them dollar by dollar.
But in this city, there is never a shortage of people who are more miserable than him. Ajie, a single mother, was abandoned by a scumbag and kicked out by her parents. She delivered takeaways with her two-year-old child in her arms and managed to establish herself in this city. A Bin, a warm-hearted delivery man, whose parents are dead, supports his grandmother and younger siblings by himself, and always says "life takes its time". There are also the brothers who call it a day and collect money to help out.
They are all debtors and people who refuse to accept their fate.
Someone asked Guo He: More than 300,000 yuan will be repaid in the Year of the Monkey and the Month of the Horse?
He said: As long as people are still alive, it will be okay.
This is the story of a group of low-level people - there is no system, no golden fingers, only the weight of the takeout box, the vibration of the collection phone, the warm little hands of the child, and the heat coming out of the steamer at three in the morning.
No matter how difficult the life is, you still have to breathe out the warm breath one breath at a time.
