Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

"Okay." Yuan Qiao nodded and stuffed a bulging envelope into his bag. "There's five thousand yuan in here. Take it. Don't deprive yourself while you're out there. Buy whatever you want to eat, and wear an extra layer when it gets cold."

"I don't want it. You keep it to buy Niu Niu something nice to eat." Song Chao pushed the envelope back. "I have enough wages."

"Just take it."

Yuan Qiao's voice was a little choked up as she forced the envelope into a compartment of her bag and zipped it up.

"We have enough at home. If something happens to you while you're out, it'll be convenient to have money on hand. Last time, Old Li from the next village broke his leg at the construction site. If he hadn't had some cash with him, he would have had to wait in line for reimbursement for more than half a month."

Song Dynasty could not refuse her request and had no choice but to accept it.

He knew in his heart that the five thousand yuan was saved by Yuan Qiao from her family.

She stays home alone taking care of the child, and she has to be very careful with her grocery shopping. She doesn't know how long she has saved up this 5,000 yuan.

The next morning, Song Chao took his luggage to the bus station.

The sky was not yet fully light; only a faint glimmer of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon, and a cold wind whistled through my collar.

Yuan Qiao brought Niu Niu to see him off.

Niu Niu was wrapped in a thick little cotton-padded jacket, her hair was messy and not combed properly, and her eyes were red, obviously she had just been crying.

She knew her father was leaving again.

She cries every time her father leaves.

Song Chao squatted down, took out a White Rabbit milk candy from his pocket, and put it in Niu Niu's hand.

"Good girl, Daddy will be back soon. Next time I come back, I'll buy you a pink scooter, even prettier than your classmate Xiaoming's."

Niu Niu clung to his leg, refusing to let go, and cried, "Daddy, come back soon."

Song Chao coaxed her for a long time, promising to take her to the amusement park and buy her cotton candy next time he came back. Only then did the little girl wipe away her tears and let go.

As the bus started moving, he looked through the window at Yuan Qiao holding Niu Niu standing by the roadside, her figure getting smaller and smaller until she disappeared from sight.

Yuan Qiao kept waving, and Niu Niu cried on her shoulder.

The wind tousled Yuan Qiao's hair. She stood by the dusty roadside, wrapped in her newly bought maroon wool scarf, looking as lonely as a tree.

That image was etched into his heart, causing him both bitterness and pain.

He squeezed the family photo in his pocket—the photo was worn and frayed, but he carried it with him every day.

I secretly vowed that once this project was finished, I would find a job closer to home and never have to travel so far again.

He wants to stay with his wife and children, and protect this family.

The bus bumped along the way, heading towards Zhaoming City.

Song Chao leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest, his mind filled with the warm memories of the past few days at home.

Niu Niu's smiling face as she hugs her Barbie doll, Yuan Qiao's reddened eyes as he takes the scarf, and the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafting through the air as the family of three strolls in the park.

These images sustained him as he persevered day after day on the construction site.

That's what kept him going.

The sky outside the bus window was already bright. The bus sped along the provincial highway, with bare farmland and leafless poplar trees on both sides.

The late autumn sun had little warmth, shining through the car window and landing on Song Chao's face.

His eyes were closed, and his eyelashes trembled slightly.

In his dream, he stood at his door and knocked. The door opened, and Niu Niu rushed into his arms. Yuan Qiao stood at the door with a bowl of hot soup, smiling at him.

He reached out to take the bowl of soup, but the moment his fingertips touched the rim, the bowl shattered, spilling soup all over the floor. The scalding soup splashed onto the back of his hand, causing him to open his eyes abruptly in pain.

Outside the window, there was still an endless expanse of farmland, and the bus continued to drive forward.

He looked down at the back of his hand; it was dry, rough, and cracked in several places, but nothing had happened.

He turned his hand over, looking at the thick calluses on his palm, his eyes filled with an indescribable sorrow.

Those happy moments were his only motivation to keep living, but sometimes he felt that this happiness was as fragile as glass, and might shatter one day.

He didn't know what to do.

I can only hold on tightly to the last bit of sweetness in my hand, desperately protecting it, refusing to let go even in death.

What he didn't know was.

No sooner had he left than a black sedan silently drove into the osmanthus tree in the old residential compound.

The license plate started with Jeolla Province's A, and the paint was polished to a shine, making it stand out starkly from the dilapidated suburban residential compound.

Zhang Jinshan got out of the passenger seat first, straightened his suit collar, and then quickly walked to the back door, bent down and opened it.

That demeanor was completely different from his arrogant and haughty manner on the construction site.

The young man who got out of the back seat looked to be in his early twenties. He was wearing a dark gray cashmere coat with a crisp fabric that was clearly not cheap.

He looked up at the old building with its mottled walls and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

The smile was faint, carrying a sense of superiority that looked down upon others.

"Fifth floor, the one on the left," Zhang Jinshan said in a low voice, his tone respectful.

The young man nodded and walked into the building, with Zhang Jinshan following behind him, deliberately lagging behind by half a step.

The stairwell was plastered with posters for unclogging drains and issuing certificates, and a large patch of plaster had peeled off the corner of the wall, revealing the blackened brick underneath.

The motion-activated light was broken, so the two of them went up to the fifth floor in the dark.

The young man raised his hand and knocked on the door.

From inside came the sound of Yuan Qiao's hurried footsteps, with a light and quick rhythm.

She assumed Song Chao had forgotten something and returned to get it, saying as she opened the door, "Did you forget to bring it again—?"

The door was halfway open when she saw the person standing in the doorway. Her smile froze on her face and then vanished like a candle blown out by the wind.

His face turned deathly pale.

"Why are you here?"

Her voice was low and visibly tense. She glanced instinctively at the door to make sure there were no neighbors in the hallway.

The young man didn't answer her, but just smiled slightly, reached out and pushed her inside, and stepped into the house.

The movement was so natural, as if he were back home.

Zhang Jinshan followed him in, and closed the door behind him with a click as the latch went into the door frame.

Yuan Qiao took two steps back, her fingers gripping the edge of the apron, her knuckles turning white from the force.

"Song Chao just left. You didn't run into him downstairs, did you?"

"We waited at the alley entrance for a while and watched the bus drive away." The young man walked to the center of the living room and looked around his simple home.

His gaze swept from the repaired roof to the re-nailed dining table, from the half-broken television to the unopened aluminum alloy materials on the balcony, and finally landed on the wall covered with Niu Niu's paintings.

A family photo hangs on the wall—Song Chao stands on the left, smiling honestly with wrinkles around his eyes; Yuan Qiao stands beside him holding Niu Niu, who has two little braids and is smiling at the camera with her arms around Yuan Qiao's neck.

They look incredibly happy.

The young man's lips curled into a smile.