After work, walking out of the compound gate with her colleagues, Zhou Jiao lifted her head to look at the sky, squeezed Jin Lijuan's right hand before letting go.
The two of them exchanged an encouraging smile.
Some people, some things, everything is understood without being said. There are always kind-hearted people hidden in this world; otherwise, how could true feelings survive.
In much better spirits, Zhou Jiao cheerfully boarded the bus. Seeing young people giving up their seats to the elderly and to pregnant women, she pressed her lips together and smiled.
Halfway along, the bus stopped at a station. Not far away, in a hutong, a crowd of young people had gathered; angry shouts and sobbing drifted over…
Compared to the curious passengers craning their necks, Zhou Jiao stood very straight, head held high, not moving at all, yet her gaze inevitably dimmed.
