Chapter 17 "The World Burns My Color (8)."



Bolong has a good temper and takes good care of him. Their fate originated from Bolong's poor gaming skills, so Bolong often asked Su Mingan for help and consulted on some gaming issues, and the two gradually became familiar with each other.

Bolong has always envied Su Mingan, feeling that Su Mingan and he are on two different levels.

He couldn't play the piano at all, which made his tutor furious, but Su Mingan just went to his house and played it once, and the tutor was full of praise.

He is so bad at playing games that he has to pick his feet, but Su Mingan, who obviously has little time to play, is able to kill everyone and make money by playing live games.

Good grades, good essays, good at playing games, superb piano talent... Su Mingan simply crushed him in every aspect. He always felt that in the future Su Mingan would become a super great person, completely crushing him in every aspect.

So he didn't understand why Su Mingan was unwilling to pursue his dream.

Such a talented person ended up working for such a low level.

"Please think about it again. It's such a pity." Bolong said regretfully.

"..."Su Mingan remained silent.

Soon, the school bell rang, and the story progressed very quickly. The next moment, Su Mingan found himself walking out of the school gate with his schoolbag on his back.

Beside him, Bolong was talking on the phone quietly:

"Hello, hello? Sister, what's going on? Huh? I told you I wanted the 2007 version of the sneakers! Why did you give me the outdated 2006 version... What? My parents won't buy me any? I haven't had new sneakers for months..."

Su Mingan took a look at the worn-out sneakers on his feet that had been patched up for three years.

He remembers his high school years as the most difficult period.

The savings left by his parents were basically spent, and his only guardian, Uncle Zhao, had a low salary, so it was extremely difficult to support him in his studies. As for the places for poor students in the class, they all went to some students who were not very poor.

Su Mingan once had a treasured hand-rolled piano, but he had to sell it to make a living.

However, a few days later, the hand-rolled piano was back in his hands because he found that this treasure he cherished was roughly broken and thrown into the trash can. He picked it up, wiped it patiently, and carefully held its "remains" in his arms again.

Su Mingan didn't know where Shen Xue was, so he returned to his current home - Uncle Zhao's home.

Uncle Zhao is not his blood relative, but a guardian who is willing to take care of him.

The closer he got to home, the more he felt homesick. Even though he knew it was a fake reenactment, he still couldn't calm down.

When you open the door, you will see a home of more than 30 square meters, with the bathroom next to the kitchen, and the kitchen next to the bedroom.

A large man, about fifty years old, was making straw toys. He looked up when he heard the voice and smiled at Su Mingan: "Are you back?"

He had a broad forehead, sunken eyebrows, a fat nose, thick lips, and his cheeks, due to being away from home for a long time, had a simple and heavy color, like red soil, and there was a few white hairs on his temples.

Su Mingan's breathing paused for a moment, and he responded softly:

"……Um."

The man was weaving small toys, sweat running down his forehead. It was summer, but he didn't even turn on the electric fan. His fingers were weaving grass leaves: "Look, I've been thinking about these small toys recently. Isn't the night market economy very popular? I thought that after get off work, I could sell these small toys at the night market. I'm sure I can make some extra money!"

"Be careful with your hands." Su Mingan saw that Uncle Zhao had several scratches on his fingers.

"I'll be careful. If blood bleeds and falls on the straw toys, all my efforts will be in vain..." The man replied, "There's a fire on the stove. Go and have a look."

Su Mingan put down his schoolbag and placed it on the only intact piece of furniture in the house - a brown-red wooden table covered with dark spots and cracks. This table can be used for doing homework, eating, sewing clothes and many other functions, and it can be called a busy guest in the house.

He walked into the kitchen, opened the lid of the pot, and a rich aroma hit him in the face.

The thin body gurgled.

"...Chicken soup?" He glanced sideways: "Why are you cooking chicken soup today?"

"It's half a chicken. It died a while ago. Aunt Li didn't want it, so I took it back. It has a bit of smell, but I washed it very clean. It won't make you sick." Uncle Zhao's eyes were still fixed on the work in his hands: "I haven't given you good food for a long time. You need to eat more. You can't grow taller."

Su Mingan was holding the chicken soup while watching out the window to see if there was Shen Xue:

"What day is today?"

"What day?" the man played dumb.

"It's not an important day. I don't believe you would buy a chicken."

"You kid, I told you I was lucky enough to get a bargain... Humph, humph, okay, you figured it out. Today is Singles' Day, so I'll give you a break."

"…What kind of weird festivals do you want to celebrate?"

"Of course not. Who said that 'life must have a sense of ritual'? Although we don't live a rich life, we must not lose the sense of ritual! The most important lesson your father taught you is to learn to love yourself! Give yourself some hope in life!"

"……father?"

“Cough, cough, cough…Guardian, guardian!”

“…”

"Self-love is very important. Only when you love yourself, you will feel that the world is bright. If you don't love yourself, you will suffer every day, and you will soon die."

"I see."

"In short, you still have a long future ahead of you. The hardship you endure now is only temporary, and good days are yet to come!"

“Are the good days…still to come?”

"Yes. Think about it, going to college is such a glorious thing. I never went to college, I went to a vocational high school. But when we were there, vocational high schools were better than high schools..." The man began to "recall the past" again.

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