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墨書 Inktalez
The girl bit her lip and said goodbye to me before suddenly turning around and walking away, giving off a feeling of resolute determination.
Well, what could I expect from a little girl?
I shook my head and went home.
During my time at home without work, I called the Market Supervision Administration numerous times after they had come to issue a notice.
The responses I received were all to just wait a little longer.
Netizens were completely divided into two camps: one group said I had a problem and deserved it, while the other group claimed I was doing a good deed and should be encouraged. This led to many debates and several bloggers analyzing the situation.
I didn’t care about any of that.
What I cared about was for the authorities to uncover the truth as soon as possible; even if I stopped running my business, I couldn’t bear this accusation.
One day, while I was sleeping soundly at home, I suddenly received a phone call.
As soon as I answered, a loud commotion came through the line, followed by a familiar child's voice.
“Uncle Boss, hurry! We’re here to help you! They want to see you! Market Supervision Administration, hurry!”
I didn’t have time to ask what was happening; I hurriedly grabbed my coat and rushed out.
I hopped on the bicycle at my door and pedaled with all my might.
The Market Supervision Administration was at least half an hour away from my house, but I made it in half that time.
Before I even reached the entrance, I heard a cacophony of voices. As I got closer, I recognized many of the people blocking the entrance.
There was the little girl from earlier, an older brother in a hospital gown with a shaved head, a woman holding a baby in her arms, and an elderly man trembling as he sat at the front.
Everyone was crowded at the entrance of the Market Supervision Administration, shouting for the leaders to come out and clear my name.
In that moment, my nose tinged with emotion and my eyes turned red.
A civil servant at the entrance was trying to calm everyone down when I dropped my bike and squeezed inside.
“Uh… excuse me, sir, I'm the owner of the noodle shop involved; I didn’t know…”
He waved his hand dismissively and turned to address everyone.
“Alright, alright, there are too many people here; it’s not convenient for discussions. Can you select a few representatives to go talk in our leader's office?”
“Besides, weren’t you all here to resolve the issue? Making noise here will only cause social unrest and won’t lead to any results.”
The few leading individuals exchanged glances, prompting the friends who had come to help maintain order to leave. In an instant, the bustling entrance of the Market Supervision Administration was left with just the Old Man, a young girl, a big brother, and a big sister.
We took several turns and arrived at the leader's office. The secretary poured us some water, and the civil servant who had led us in stepped back. The leader sighed and looked at me.
"We all said we would investigate this matter thoroughly. That notice was also meant to reassure the online community. Why did you let them cause such a commotion?"
The girl spoke up in rebuttal. "Uncle Boss didn't know; it was organized by me. It was our spontaneous action!"
The Old Man chimed in. "Yes, we may be rough around the edges and not understand your rules, but we believe that we cannot let the boss be wronged or let kind-hearted people suffer!"
At the leader's gesture, each of them began to speak up, spontaneously testifying on my behalf.
The Old Man had suffered a heart attack, which erupted suddenly after receiving news of his son's suicide. He and his elderly wife relied on each other; whether it was for hospitalization or running errands, he did everything alone. He was a regular customer at my shop. His favorite was clear broth noodles, and I always secretly added an extra egg at the bottom of his bowl—this was our unspoken secret.
The young girl's father had lost a leg in a car accident. She had dropped out of school early to take care of him, waiting for him to recover before returning to her studies. However, with her father now incapacitated, she lost her source of tuition funds. I would give her bottles from my shop and nearby stores to sell for money; at least she could exchange them for a meal, and if she could save up more, that would be even better.
Her father loved beef noodles but was worried about the cleanliness of our restaurant's takeout containers, so he insisted on packing his food into his own containers. Each time, I charged her only five yuan and added an extra serving of beef soup for the little girl because she needed to eat well as she was still growing.
The bald big brother had congenital heart disease; it was remarkable that he had lived this long. He looked strong but was physically weak and unable to do heavy work. He was reluctant to spend money; if it weren't for having fallen ill on the road and being sent to the hospital this time, he would never have set foot in a hospital in his life.
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