Why did the system take my request to take photos with a cosplayer seriously?

sleepy.

She blinked hard, pinched her thigh, and forced herself to wake up.

Three hundred and fifty yuan.

Four hundred yuan.

Four hundred and fifty yuan.

……

Her fingers began to go numb, and her fingertips ached from being rubbed raw by the edge of the circuit board.

At five o'clock in the morning, Baima felt that her soul had floated out of her body.

She didn't know what she was doing; she was just mechanically repeating the same action.

Pick it up, glance at it, and put it down.

Pick it up, glance at it, and put it down.

……

Finally, the horn sounded again.

"Get off work! Get off work! Everyone stop what you're doing!"

Baima put down the circuit board in her hand, and after a few seconds of stunned silence, she realized... the torture was over!

She stood up, her legs went weak, and she almost lost her balance.

Ding Heng quickly came over and supported her arm.

"Let's go."

The two followed the crowd out of the factory. It was already daylight outside; the time was 7:30 in the morning.

The sky was gray, the factory buildings were gray, and faces were gray.

Pema looked up at the sky and exhaled a long breath.

Like being reborn!

The place to collect wages was a small hut next to the factory gate.

The crowd formed a long queue, and one by one they went inside.

Baima followed behind Ding Heng, slowly moving forward.

Finally, it was her turn.

She went inside, and a middle-aged man was sitting at the table.

"name."

"Bai Ma Yang Jin".

The man flipped through a few pages of forms, found her name, gestured for her to open the payment QR code, and made a joke as he did so.

"Oh dear, another one using the fruit 17! 160."

When the balance arrived, Baima was still a little confused.

160.

From 8 pm to 7:30 am, almost twelve hours, only 160 yuan!

Baima gripped her phone tightly, turned around, and walked out of the house.

After receiving their wages, the two walked back towards the bus. Baima's steps were unsteady, and she still couldn't believe it.

"Brother..."

"Ok?"

"I worked a full twelve hours and only earned 160?"

"I almost forgot! The clothes money, transfer fifty to me!"

Bai Ma was stunned, and Ding Heng repeated it.

"Clothes, fifty."

"Brother!"

"There's no room for negotiation."

Baima gritted her teeth, opened her phone and transferred fifty yuan to Ding Heng, then looked at the remaining two hundred and thirty-eight yuan in her wallet, feeling like crying.

Sunburn during the day, exhaustion at night... a whole day of hard work!

In the end, I only earned thirty-eight!

The bus took them back to where they boarded the day before.

When Baima got off the bus, she saw many people walking towards the hotel next door.

"Brother, why aren't they going home?"

That's their home.

Ding Heng raised his chin, gesturing for Bai Ma to look at the dilapidated little building.

The building wasn't tall, only six stories. Several windows were broken and covered with cardboard. Most of the white paint on the exterior walls had peeled off, revealing the gray-black cement underneath.

"They earn 160 a night, how can they afford to stay in a hotel?"

"The cheapest place here is 20 yuan a night, which isn't expensive."

Baima was stunned.

twenty?

A cup of coffee at Starbucks costs her more than twenty yuan.

"They earn 160 yuan a night, spend 20 yuan to stay overnight, and still have 140 yuan left."

Ding Heng said in a flat tone: "One hundred and forty. After eating, smoking, drinking water... it's good if you can save a few dozen yuan a day."

Bai Ma didn't speak, so Ding Heng continued to explain.

"In those electronics factories, the daytime workers are long-term, monthly-paid employees, while the nighttime workers are daily-paid employees. It operates 24/7 to guarantee absolute efficiency. Although the daily pay is low and the work is heavy, many people still flock to it because of the daily rate, most of whom work one day and then rest for three..."

"Brother, how did you know?"

"Didn't I tell you? My mom's medical treatment cost a lot of money, and our family was in debt. I secretly pretended to be an adult to do it, and then slept through the night at school... But I was caught by my dad after only two days and he made me go back to school!"

Baima swallowed hard and checked her phone balance again.

Is money... really that hard to earn?

It was almost nine o'clock when we got back to the villa.

Sister Jiang went out to buy groceries, and the house was quiet.

Baima walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Hot water poured down from above, washing away the fatigue of the night.

She looked down at her fingers; the tips were red from being rubbed against the edge of the circuit board, and in several places the skin was broken, oozing tiny beads of blood.

Baima put her hand under the running water, and the stinging sensation made her gasp.

After taking a shower, she changed into clean pajamas and lay down on the bed.

My body is very tired, but my mind is incredibly clear.

What's even stranger is that, even though she clearly remembers the numbers, she can't help but open her wallet again and again to check her balance.

160.

Twelve hours, 160!

She turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

How did my mother earn so much money back then?

When she was little, Quzhen would bring her lots of delicious food and fun toys every time she came back from outside.

At that time, she didn't understand; she only knew how to be happy.

Looking back now, I wonder if my mother earned all those delicious treats and fun activities little by little in that first year.

Baima sniffed, picked up her phone again, and continued browsing job postings.

One.

Two.

Three.

……

She flipped through countless pages, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

The phone slipped and fell onto the pillow.

She didn't pick it up; she closed her eyes, and her breathing gradually became steady.

After taking a shower, Ding Heng stopped in his tracks as he passed Bai Ma's room.

The door wasn't closed completely, leaving a crack.

He gently pushed open the door and went inside.

The bedside lamp was still on.

The little girl's sleeping posture was quite unseemly, with her eyelashes drooping and her brows slightly furrowed, as if she was still worrying about money in her dream.

She kicked the blanket aside, leaving only her stomach covered, her two bare legs exposed, her pink toes slightly curled.

My phone fell onto the pillow, and the screen was still lit.

Ding Heng picked it up and glanced at it; the interface remained on the recruitment software.

He first charged his phone, then bent down to pick up the blanket from the ground, gently covered Baima with it, and finally adjusted the temperature to 26 degrees Celsius.

After finishing everything, Ding Heng stood by the bed and looked down at her.