The old me spent money like water, arrogant and overbearing.
I lived in villas with swimming pools and lawns, never noticing—or even speaking with—these "small people."
Now, here I was, laughing and chatting casually with them.
"Can you really live in a place like this?" Her voice quivered slightly.
I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or something else.
"It's fine. Quiet, full of human warmth." I pointed to a side street ahead. "Are you tired? There's a small stall over there selling tofu pudding and fried cakes. Pretty good. Want to sit for a bit?"
She didn't protest.
The stall was simple—a cart, a few low tables, and plastic stools under an old locust tree.
The owners, a middle-aged couple, saw me and immediately greeted me warmly.
"Charles! You're back from work!"
"Oh, you brought a friend?"
"Sit, sit! We've got fresh brown sugar glutinous rice cakes today!"
I pulled out a stool for Sheena and wiped it down with a tissue.
"Two bowls of savory tofu pudding, extra pickled vegetables and dried shrimp. Four fried cakes, and two brown sugar glutinous rice cakes."
"Got it!"
The food arrived quickly.
I picked up the disposable spoon and fork, and began eating with care.