After updating his novel for the day, Ye Shuang noticed one or two new comments. Thankfully, they weren’t negative. He didn’t have much confidence in his writing, but seeing the positive feedback in the comments instantly lifted his mood.
A kind word warms one through three winters; a harsh remark chills even the height of summer.
Even a single, seemingly insignificant compliment could brighten an author’s entire day.
“Time to go check on that little one.” Ye Shuang shut down his computer, grabbed his phone and car keys, and headed out to the pet hospital.
The pet hospital was located in an urban village. The area was bustling with people—most were migrant workers renting here, with only a handful of locals. For many, buying an apartment in the city center was a lifelong struggle, and the money they earned in their early years would inevitably end up in hospitals later in life.
Clang!
As Ye Shuang drove through the crowded streets, a three-wheeled cart suddenly appeared from the right side. After a bumpy ride, it seemed to have collided with his car.
Ye Shuang froze for a moment, then frowned slightly and stepped out.
The cart was driven by an elderly woman in her eighties, her hair streaked with white and her face deeply lined as if carved by a knife. Hunched over, she nervously clasped her wrinkled hands together. When she saw Ye Shuang approaching, she offered an awkward, almost pleading smile. “Young man, I bumped your car…”
Ye Shuang glanced at the vehicle and spotted a long scratch.
“Ma’am, where’s your family?” he asked.
The old woman parted her dry lips. “My son’s in the hospital…”
She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a white plastic bag filled with loose change. After counting out all the red bills she had, she said hoarsely, “I’m so sorry. Your car is so nice.”
Looking at the three hundred yuan clutched in her calloused fingers, Ye Shuang shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Keep your money. Just be more careful next time.”
“No, no, no.”
“It’s fine,” Ye Shuang insisted, pushing the money back. “It’s just a small scratch. I’ll take care of it. You should head home safely.”
The old woman rubbed her hands together, gratitude in her voice. “Thank you, young man. You’re so kind.”
“No problem.” Ye Shuang glanced at the foam boxes piled on the cart and watched as the old woman struggled to climb back onto it and pedal away. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
Who isn’t just trying to survive?
An eighty-year-old still pedaling a cart to earn money—yet online, so-called “successful people” claim poverty and stagnant wages are due to laziness.
The greatest tragedy in this world isn’t being trapped by circumstances, but realizing that no matter how hard you strive, there’s always an invisible barrier you can’t break through. At best, you might slightly improve your current situation.
Ye Shuang remembered a billionaire from the harbor district who once claimed that poverty stemmed from laziness and a refusal to learn. But when he participated in a reality show, experiencing a day in the life of a sanitation worker, he realized he couldn’t even pause for a break—working all day just to afford a meager meal, let alone find time to study.
Too many “success stories” attribute their achievements solely to hard work, oblivious to the pivotal role luck plays.
Before long, Ye Shuang arrived at the pet hospital and saw the little cat again.
The orange tabby was curled up in a corner of the cage, clearly still timid.
“It’s past the critical stage. It should be ready to leave in a few days,” the vet said.
“Thank you, Doctor.” Ye Shuang nodded.
Before leaving, he settled another round of treatment fees. Roughly calculating, between the surgery and follow-up care, he’d spent nearly ten thousand yuan on this stray.
“Guess you got lucky, meeting a kind-hearted guardian angel.” Ye Shuang mused. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have spent so much to save a cat.
But he wouldn’t lecture Bai Yuyou about it. Every age has its own choices—with an adult’s mindset, Ye Shuang prioritized practicality. But if he were still in high school, he might’ve emptied his pockets to rescue the kitten too.
Meow?
Seeing the cat was out of danger, Ye Shuang left the hospital and headed to the auto shop to fix the scratch on his car.
By the time he got home, it was already evening.
Ye Shuang bought groceries and started preparing dinner early, simmering soup in the kitchen. Soon, Bai Yuyou and the others returned.
“Hey, big bro!” To his surprise, Tang Keke had tagged along. She scratched her head sheepishly. “Yuyou dragged me here, said I should stay for dinner.”
Tang Keke had initially refused, but the thought of Ye Shuang’s cooking—compared to her mom’s “everything stew”—made her change her mind instantly.
“Wish I’d made more soup,” Ye Shuang chuckled.
“Need help prepping? I’m on it!”
Tang Keke dropped her bag and scurried over in her slippers to assist, with Bai Yuyou close behind.
The already cramped kitchen felt even tighter with two more people squeezed in.
“No need. Go relax on the couch,” Ye Shuang said, shaking his head at the two “bodyguards” flanking him.
“Nah, I’ll wash the veggies, Yuyou can chop, and you handle the cooking. Teamwork makes the dream work!” Tang Keke grinned mischievously. “Two girls, one guy—double efficiency.”
Ye Shuang caught the odd phrasing but let it slide.
With Tang Keke around, the kitchen grew noisier, but it also felt more like a home.
Sandwiched between the two girls, Ye Shuang realized… this wasn’t so bad.
Once the food was served, Ye Shuang sat down and casually asked, “How are your grades at school?”
“Uh…” Tang Keke scratched her head awkwardly. Even Bai Yuyou glanced away, her eyes darting guiltily.
“That bad?” Ye Shuang served them both while probing.
“From what I remember, Yinshan Academy doesn’t require college entrance exams, but advancing to fourth year still depends on test scores, right? Fail once, and you repeat the year. Fail twice, and you’re out.”
Tang Keke wilted, her voice trembling. “Y-yeah, that’s right…”
“Seems worse than I thought. In that case, I’ll tutor you both later,” Ye Shuang offered.
“Wait, were you a top student back then?” Tang Keke’s eyes sparkled. Bai Yuyou also looked at him curiously.
“I did alright. Might’ve forgotten some details now, but teaching you shouldn’t be an issue.” Ye Shuang nodded.
“After all, I was the city’s top scorer that year.”
Tang Keke & Bai Yuyou: “What?!”