Hei Tu had once believed that in today's materialistic society, trust between people was scarce, and those driven solely by profit were everywhere.
It was not as though Hei Tu had never experienced such things before. When his mother fell ill this time, Hei Tu had borrowed money everywhere and truly felt, again and again, the coldness and warmth of human relationships and the harshness of the world. The bitterness in his heart was beyond words.
Though some people clearly had the means and were on good terms with him, they chose to stand by and do nothing.
Hei Tu did not blame them. Helping was a kindness; not helping was their right. It was just that the sorrow in his heart was not something outsiders could understand.
If possible, Hei Tu would not have taken the step of raising money online. If he had truly wanted to raise funds, he would have done so a month ago. Some readers probably knew that Hei Tu's mother had not been sick for just a day or two. Hei Tu had always felt that he could still hold on, that he could still endure.
But illness struck like a mountain collapsing, and money flowed away like water. Hei Tu could no longer hold on, so with no other choice, he tried this method.
When the mountains and rivers seemed to leave no road ahead, a new village appeared amid shaded willows and blooming flowers!
My readers gave Hei Tu tremendous support this time!
I believe many readers have seen Hei Tu's Waterdrop Fundraising campaign. The vast majority of those who donated and shared it were my readers—the proportion far exceeded that of my friends and relatives.
Even distant water could put out a nearby fire. Distant relatives could be better than close