On the day when I was transformed into cannon fodder for sadistic stories, I was slapped for the thirty-first time by my boss.
There was only eighty-three dollars and fifty cents left in his pocket.
Under the bus stop on a rainy night, I met a young man squatting in the corner to borrow a dollar. The school uniform has turned white after washing, and the "brick-moving day knot" on the cardboard is soaked by the rain. He is so thin that his cheekbones protrude, but his eyes are so bright that they are too bright to be true.
I poured all the money into his hand.
"Stop moving bricks, I'll take care of you."
He froze. Then he said, "Okay."
Later, I served milk tea during the day and set up a fried skewers stall at night. He helped me collect money while doing homework. There was no elevator on the sixth floor, and the sofa was too short for him to stretch his legs, but we shared the same bowl of soy sauce noodles and spent the poorest and warmest three years of our lives.
He said he wanted to take the Qingbei exam, and he took it. He said he wanted to win the first prize in the national competition, and he won it. He said he would make a lot of money in the future.
I believed it.
Later, the boy who could not even borrow a dollar became the youngest richest man on the cover of Finance. Someone asked him at the press conference: "Mr. Gu, why did you name the group 'Micro'?"
He smiled at the camera: "Because a long time ago, a sister said she wanted to raise me. I have to grow up quickly."
——The whole Jiangcheng is guessing who that sister is.
Only I know that my name is written on every page of the "House with a Yard" he has drawn in his notebook for five years.
A story about raising cubs that started with eighty-three and a half yuan. A two-way redemption, a story about "I believe in you" and "I did it". Not cruel, very sweet. The love between sister and brother is slow but firm.
