The little girl's cloth bag was bulging, stuffed with thick stacks of crisp hundred-yuan bills. Zheng Meng roughly estimated that there was almost one hundred and fifty thousand yuan.
For the wealthy, one hundred and fifty thousand is not a lot, but for a little girl of about ten years old, dressed in worn coarse clothing, it undoubtedly represented a huge sum of money.
"Little girl, tell uncle your name. Who gave you this money?"
Zheng Meng covetously eyed the wads of cash peeking out from the little girl's cloth bag. His eyes darted around as he squatted in front of the little girl with a smile and asked.
"My name is Shi Xiaolian, everyone in the village calls me Alian."
The little girl, Shi Xiaolian, was innocent and had no sense of wariness towards Zheng Meng. Tilting her head, she earnestly said, "A big brother gave this money to my grandpa. Not long ago, my grandpa passed away, so I took the money to find the big brother."
