There was a noodle shop by the road that stayed open twenty-four hours a day. It was brightly lit, with a red price list pasted on its glass door.
Beef noodles, fifteen yuan.
Wang Xiaoliang pushed the door open, went inside, and sat down by the window.
"One bowl of beef noodles, please."
"Coming right up!"
A steaming bowl of noodles soon arrived, its aroma filling the air.
Wang Xiaoliang picked up his chopsticks, lifted a few strands, blew on them, and put them in his mouth.
Delicious.
I should have invited Liang Yanni to eat with me.
He remembered Liang Yanni saying she had "enough."
She had clearly been putting on a brave face.
That "enough," spoken with forced strength and feigned ease.
She had not received her wages.
The Youth Hostel she had mentioned cost twenty a day, or five hundred a month.
The KFC she had mentioned, where a cup of Coke let her sit for an entire afternoon.
Behind those scenes lay a girl's most painstakingly frugal struggle to survive and pursue her dreams in a big city.
And I actually asked her why she didn't rent a place.
What an idiot, completely out of touch with real life.
He mocked his own belated emotional awareness.
He took out his phone and tapped Liang Yanni's WeChat profile picture.
He wondered whether he should help her, if only for Old Third's sake.
If Old Third were still alive, he would certainly have done so.
He wanted to transfer her some money.
But how should I put it?
If I send it straight over, will someone as stubborn as her accept it? Will she think it's charity?
He did not want to hurt her pride.
After hesitating for a long time, he opened the transfer screen and entered