The Magic Lamp

In high school, there was this rich kid in our class-s*upidly loaded.

He’d treat everyone all the time.

KFC every three days, McDonald’s every five.

That year he was at his most generous, he lost a bet and casually handed me, just standing by the roadside, a hundred thousand yuan.

I lived off that money, finished high school, and even got into college.

It wasn’t until later I realized his generosity was fake, and losing the bet was a lie.

What really lay there was nothing more than a boy’s youthful, subtle, and unspoken feelings.

Four years later, his family went bankrupt, and he was wandering the streets.

I crouched down in front of him and reached out my hand:

“Hey, wanna come with me?”