In the mutton soup restaurant, a migrant worker in his 40s wearing a hard hat timidly walked in. He was holding renovation tools in his hand, covered in dust, and did not seem to have come to eat. Seeing the shopkeeper sitting at the counter, he said.
Uncle, I have difficulties now, can you help?
What's the difficulty?
I came here to find my fellow countrymen, who had been cheated out of money and had not eaten for two days. Can you give two loaves to eat?
Two loaves? Okay, you sit down first.
I'm dirty, just stand.
You sit down, and I'll bring you the bread.
Uncle brought him two loaves, and then brought him a bowl of lamb soup.
Just eat the cake, don't want the soup.
Big winter, how cold, drink some mutton soup warm and warm.
Where do you live?"
I live under the bridge over there. No money, no place to stay.
Live with me, there is a place upstairs. You stay for a few days and get a job. Who doesn't have a hard time.
Uncle, thank you! Give me bread to eat, and take me in.
The migrant workers fell to their knees with a thud.
Thank you to the kind uncle, the big brother of the migrant worker who was deceived. Give someone a rose and leave a lingering fragrance in your hand. Uncle must have been blessed.
