Last night at the hospital, I was keeping vigil when I saw a girl squatting in the stairwell, crying.

The nurse said she works at a bubble tea shop downstairs during the day, and goes to a bar to sell alcohol at night, sometimes even going out with people.
It's not to buy a bag, but to gather money for her mother's dialysis.
Someone asked her if it's worth it.
She didn't answer, only said: "My mom is the only family I have."
I thought of another brother, who delivers takeout during the day and volunteers as a trial drug tester at night.
He earns twenty thousand each time, and rests for three days.
He said he's afraid of dying too, but he's even more afraid of his mom dying.
Look at how absurd this world is.
Some sell their time, some sell their bodies, some sell their lives.
The prices are different, but the reasons are all the same—
Not enough money, not enough time, the hospital doesn't wait for you.
So don't judge easily who lives more decently.
You just haven't been pushed to that price yet.
As for whether she will be recognized by that "old acquaintance" someday...
Forget it, I won't say anymore.