No way. It really won't work. We all agreed...this wine smells so good.

There really were no cameras?

Okay then. Just don't tell anyone else. Let's just treat this as a chat.

I'm talking about, well, cough cough, that little girl's story. It has nothing to do with anyone else. Especially nothing to do with that Ye thing you mentioned. Got it?

Look at how you're nodding your head, like a chicken pecking at rice.

That little girl... when she first came to Xingfu Street, she stayed at Old Hu's house. She was skinny and tiny, with a big head and a small body, and a yellowish complexion. We all talked about it behind her back, saying that she shouldn't be called Yezi (Leaf), but Douya (Bean Sprout).

She lives in Lao Hu's bookstore. There's a warehouse in Lao Hu's bookstore, and she sleeps on the floor there.

She eats on the street. She's tried everything on this street. I cut her hair once; Old Fan—the guy who runs the grocery store—gave her a lot of things. Wool gloves, hehe, if there's a single wool in them, I'll change my surname to yours. Old Mrs. Hu let her read whatever she wanted in the store, and brought her bedding and good food from home. The duck sellers, Old Meng and his wife, sometimes at the end of the day, if they had leftover duck offal and carcasses, they'd give them to her for free. Whenever she had free time, she'd help Old Meng and his wife clean.

She worked as an extra in that film studio not far away. She started as a small extra, then worked her way up to a big extra. She stumbled and fell, often covered in bruises. We all advised her to quit filming and set up a pancake stall; wouldn't that be better than anything? But she wouldn't do it.

One day, Lao Hu told us that she had become a big star and that we should go support her big production. Oh my! That night, as soon as I got home, I rushed over and turned on my Huawei 6 to support her. I remember the movie was called "Tianji Tower," and she was doing so well in it! Dressed in gold and silver, she was truly a big star.

And then? Well, she got busier and busier. She used to be busy, but at least she'd come home every day. Then she stopped coming home so often. Xiao Lu said it was better that she didn't come back. What's the point of coming back to this poor street? Only successful people don't come back.

And then she really left. She moved out of Lao Hu's bookstore. Lao Hu even cried. The day she left, we all went out to see her off. Lao Lu gave her a phone case, Lao Hu gave her a book, Lao Zhou gave her a hat... so many things. I'm a hairdresser, so I didn't have much to give her, but I gave her a bottle of shampoo.

Then she stopped coming back. Then our street was slated for demolition. We old folks were all busy finding new jobs to make ends meet. We sent a representative from our neighborhood to find her boss. But her boss said there was nothing that could be done. We tried to find her, but her boss said she wasn't there.

She's a big star, we can't possibly be her match. We don't even know where she is.

Do I blame her? To be honest, a little. But please don't be mad at me, reporter, we were practically starving back then!

He was planning to pack his bags and leave when one day she suddenly returned.

This big star has come back to our poor place.

She found out about it from her boss and came back to help us!

I don't know the specifics of how she helped. I only know she was running around everywhere, so much so that she became incredibly thin. Reporter, please don't ask, I really can't say. We signed a confidentiality agreement. Saying anything more would be classified!

What does this have to do with the movie's release? A confidentiality agreement is a confidentiality agreement; whether the movie is released or not, I have to keep it a secret!

Anyway, after she went back and forth for several months, the big boss of Bilibili Group decided not to kick us old folks out. He let us stay on the street and continue running our shops.

The big boss said that times are progressing, and we should progress too. So he decided to renovate the store and add lots of fun things—I tried it the other day, and they put me in a maze to solve puzzles? I couldn't understand a thing, what kind of puzzles were they? I couldn't even read the rules. It was really difficult!

The shop's been renovated, and the big boss called us in for training again. She said that once this new street is built, we'll still be shop owners on it. This old man won't have to starve anymore, and I won't have to put up with my son and daughter-in-law's attitude...

Oh dear, we can't do without training. The big boss said there are lots of new things on the street, things we've never tried before. If we don't understand the rules, we won't be able to run the business well. He even gave each of us a smartphone so we can learn.

Training is tiring, of course. But what isn't tiring? Being a beggar isn't tiring, though; I, an old man, would disdain doing that!

No need to go anymore, none of us need to go anymore.

There are those heartless people who criticize junior staff and inexperienced employees because of training. They're like wolves with their hearts ripped out! They don't want to train, they don't want to open new stores, and they have no ability to make money—are they just going to stay on Bilibili Group's turf and refuse to leave?

My mouth is dry from talking so much. Can I have a drink with you?

Ah! What fine wine!

I don't know her. I really don't know her.

belch……

Sigh, if you knew her, you would know what a good person she is.