The more pitiful a person is, the more likely their heart is to turn bad.

During the last bear market two years ago, I went to set up a stall, and there was a man selling fruit near the supermarket.
After I finished buying cigarettes and came out, he called out to me: "Brother, what are you selling with that QR code pasted on your cart?"
I smiled and said, "Just like you, I’m also selling fruit."
He handed me a cigarette and asked how my business was. I said it wasn’t doing well.
He said business was especially bad, selling a whole truckload for several days.
He was in his forties, with messy hair, dressed plainly, and looked very honest.
He was laid off from the factory, couldn’t find a job, had three kids, his wife was at home taking care of them, and he had a loan—so he started selling fruit, but it hadn’t sold well in half a month.
I felt sorry for him and couldn’t help but remind him: "Big brother, your bananas are already covered with sesame seeds. When you sell, don’t take out so many. Buy a four-corner umbrella to shade the sun and rain; it’ll reduce losses a bit."
He kept saying, "No experience. Now that you mention it, I’ll remember that," then asked me where I was setting up my stall.
I didn’t think much at the time and just told him the exact location.
As a result, when I went to set up my stall in the afternoon, he was already there,
smiling and saying, "It took me a few turns to find this place. Didn’t expect you to be here too."
What could I say? This place isn’t even under my contract.
Later, a customer came to buy from me and said that the fruit seller across the street told him my stuff was expensive and not good, and also said he was making a small profit on many sales, just to earn enough for his kids’ milk powder and asked customers to take care of him in the future.
I thought about it all night and finally understood: the fact that he was laid off from the factory and living such a miserable life wasn’t without reason.
The reason he’s pitiful might be something he brought upon himself.