"Pu Yu?" Su Xiao called softly when she saw her staring into space.
Pu Yu snapped back to herself, her fingertips whitening around her pen. She forced a smile. "Sorry, I zoned out. Is financial aid usually paid into the school's account? Is there an option like postal money orders?"
Su Xiao paused, then shook her head. "Of course not. These days, even private aid programs mostly use transfers between institutional accounts or pay straight into students' bank accounts. It's easier and keeps the finances transparent."
"Exactly," another sophomore boy beside her chimed in. "A classmate of mine received aid in high school, and it went straight into his bank account. Even poverty relief payments in remote mountain villages go through designated bank cards now."
"Oh, Xiaoxiao, I heard the rice noodles where you're from are really special..."
The conversation around her went on.
About hometowns, markets, and distant mountains and rivers.
But Pu Yu felt as though cotton had been stuffed into her ears. Everything buzzed, and she could no longer make out a word.
Financial aid...
Was it paid into the school's account?
She remembered every trip she had made to the post office to collect the money.
A clerk would retrieve that pale green money order slip from a pigeonhole. She would sign it, then collect cash at the next window.
There had never been a bank card.
Never a designated account.
Even the sender's field had always been blank.
Was that normal?
For the rest of the meeting, Pu Yu's mind was a tangled mess.
When it finally ended, she packed her things as fast as she could and hurried out of the classroom, even forgetting to say goodbye to the others.
The cold wind outside cleared her head a little.
She took out her phone,