Observe Zhuozhai

It rained all night, and the lights in the second-hand street were on all night. Thirty-seven-year-old Tang Yongyang is guarding a thrift store that is about to be unsustainable. There is only more than 2,000 yuan left in the account. Creditors have blocked the door and friends have left. His face is like a layer of old paint that is about to crack. The surface is still there, but the inside is long gone. Everyone thought he was dying. Even he almost believed it. Until the blue and white plum vase flowed out of the old house in the old city and dragged him into another situation. Some people want to use it to stand up, some people want to use it to make accounts, and some people want to use it to oppress others. And he just took a look and knew that this thing was not that simple. What you see in the second-hand street is the goods, but what you see on the tea table is the people. To put it mildly, it's a joke; In a word, it is a disaster. From the time when creditors came to the door, to the tea bureau for interviews, from the upsurge of old accounts, to the series of secret bureaus, Tang Yongyang slowly understood: The most difficult thing to grasp in the world is never a piece of goods. It's about people's hearts, it's about propriety, it's about whether you dare to say those words after being forced into a corner.