The cold light of the phone screen reflects the weariness of three in the morning, the string of currency numbers on the keyboard feels like a cold iron, numbing my fingertips. It turns out that the compromise of adulthood is to compress even the unwillingness into a period. Those dreams of freedom ultimately cannot compete with the numbers jumping in the bill. At this moment, the hand pressing the confirm key shakes as if unable to hold the last coin. But who made me the fool who once firmly believed that 'holding is believing'?

I fold my sighs into paper boats and cast them into the ocean of encryption. At least tonight, let the losing numbers sink to the bottom of the sea for me...✨