Seeing the short-haired girl's tearful appearance, Zhang Xiaoshan felt a tightness in his heart.
There was a time when he had felt the same way—ostracized at school because of his poor family background, lacking even the courage to communicate normally with others.
"It's okay, do you have paper and pen?"
Zhang Xiaoshan asked the short-haired girl gently.
"Yes."
After hearing Zhang Xiaoshan's question, the short-haired girl nodded hastily and hurriedly took out a pen and paper from her backpack and handed them over.
Zhang Xiaoshan wrote down his contact information and handed it back to her.
"This is my mobile number."
Clinging tightly to the piece of paper, the short-haired girl's sorrowful face finally revealed a hint of a smile.
"Don't worry, once I'm capable, I will definitely repay you," she said.
The girl carefully placed the slip of paper with Zhang Xiaoshan's phone number inside her chest.
"Alright, I'll be waiting."
