A self-made man reflects on his life's hardships, the unexpected friendship with a young woman, and the late realization of love, leading to a newfound appreciation for life's simple pleasures.
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New Year is approaching. Normally, the company does not hire people at this time. She came for the interview on a day that he had just returned from a business trip. He saw her through the window, sitting by the flower bed outside the building for a long time, like a stray cat.
"Who's that girl?" he asked the HR representative who came to report to him. The HR claimed that there was currently no shortage of staff and besides, New Year is just around the corner. The company's recruitment notice is posted year-round on job sites, just like every other company. He told her to come back the next day for another interview.
The young girl was job-seeking around the New Year. That meant she either had no place to go or she couldn't afford to go home. He'd had the same experience before.
Back then, he was a stranger in a new city, hustling for work: small jobs, big jobs, sand sifting, truck loading, he ran wherever work was available. When the holiday period was approaching, everyone was grabbing home-bound tickets but he didn't. The foreman arranged a place for him—a makeshift shelter assembled from corrugated iron—to keep watch of the construction site. It felt like a dream.
He was ready to sleep under bridges and having a place to shelter from the wind and rain was simply heaven. In tears, he thanked, bowed, and nearly knelt before the foreman who went from surprised to impatient.
"You nuts?" the foreman exclaimed.
He couldn't comprehend the foreman's reaction back then. When you say thank you to somebody, aren't they supposed to say "you're welcome"? Why did the foreman look so annoyed?
After surviving, bit by bit, he learned that nobles didn't need thanks from lowly people. He viewed himself as an ant. Yet he felt lucky. He heard a story on the radio that mayflies only live for a day—born in the morning, dying at night. He felt stronger than them.
Later, he met a benefactor. The older brother took him along wherever he went: to Xinjiang to pick cotton, to Shandong for construction work, to Tibet to fix temples, wherever money could be earned, they would go. They stood on the green car of the train—a stand that would take several nights. His legs were swollen and could not be lifted, his body was foul-smelling. It's said that you can't smell your own scent but he could. He had no choice but to endure it, so did others.
The older brother wanted to take more wages, he didn't mind. His brother had a wife and children at home, parents to take care of, while he had no family, no need for much expenditure. He thought that it was already good that his brother was willing to keep him company. He had never had someone so committed in being with him.
Later, his brother's wife couldn't stand long-distance relationships, his brother left first. He wandered around the world like a lost soul. His stay in Tibet was longer, where there were many temples, their magnificence left him in awe, making him appear like a devout believer. Believers formed a community, he felt less alone just imagining it.
