The whole family thought I was a useless organizer of relics. Only I know that I can hear the last words left by the dead in the relics.
When my grandfather died, he left me an old pocket watch and the words "Stop living for others."
I followed this sentence and dug out the accounts he had kept for half his life: My uncle swallowed up my dad's demolition money, delayed my dad's illness, and still missed my house and my niece.
The most terrible thing is the bank statement - on the day my dad had the accident, someone gave him two hundred thousand, and the note only had two words: seal.
My dad didn't die of illness.
From that day on, I swear: No living person can escape from the things that the dead entrust me with.
Uncle, I will calculate the accounts you have hidden for you one by one on behalf of the deceased.
