In the summer of Chaoshan in 2023, it was as humid as a towel that couldn't be wrung out, with a high temperature of 37°C wrapped in the salty sea breeze. Just walking outdoors for five minutes would leave me drenched in sweat. I was stepping into the heat to visit my sister who had married far away, never expecting that a sudden downpour would lead me to encounter a story even more tumultuous than the weather—about a 98-born Chaoshan girl’s struggles and growth in the cryptocurrency world, and the helplessness that ultimately led me to block her.
The raincoat I handed over became the beginning of the story.
I remember that night when thunder roared, and large raindrops pounded against the window with a crackling sound. I was curled up in the air-conditioned room, ordering a special Chaoshan beef ball. The app showed 'Estimated delivery in 30 minutes,' but after finishing two episodes of a show and munching on half a plate of sunflower seeds, an hour had passed and the delivery was nowhere in sight. Just as I hesitated whether to urge the order while staring at my phone screen, the doorbell rang with a 'ding-dong.'
When I opened the door, I was stunned: a girl who looked much younger than her actual age stood at the entrance. She was thin and petite, her blue delivery outfit was so wet it could be wrung out, her hair was sticking to her face like seaweed, and she was tightly clutching a takeaway box wrapped in three layers of plastic bags. When she looked up at me, her eyes showed a shy panic, and her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz: 'Brother... I’m sorry... I just started, and I'm not familiar with the roads here, I took a long detour... Could you... not give me a bad review?'
I took the still warm delivery from her, noticed her hands were a little red from the cold, and casually asked, 'Why aren’t you wearing a raincoat in such heavy rain?' She lowered her head, fiddling with the strap of the delivery box, and softly said, 'It wasn’t this heavy when I left, I didn’t expect it to suddenly pour... I didn’t have time to go back and get it.' Looking at her soaked appearance, I inexplicably softened and told her to wait a moment at the door while I turned back inside to find a brand new raincoat.
'Here, take this, it will help for now.' I shoved the raincoat into her hands, but she hurriedly waved her hands as if she had been scalded, shaking her head like a rattle: 'No, no! Really don’t need to! I’ll wash it and return it to you tomorrow?' 'It’s fine,' I smiled and pressed her hand down, 'Just return it to me after the rain stops; I can't let you run out in the rain for the next order, right?' Only then did she take it blushingly, repeatedly thanking me with 'Thank you, brother,' before turning and disappearing into the rain.
