“You can’t even come up with 200,000 yuan for a bride price—how are you worthy of getting married?”

Unemployed.

Soaking wet in a downpour.

Standing in front of a funeral home.

Yu Jin had just lost the last shred of his dignity.

Thinking of his recently deceased parents, he didn’t even have the strength to cry.

8,000 yuan for cremation.

38,000 for a cemetery plot.

Heh.

When you’re poor, even death comes on an installment plan.

Until—

A trembling umbrella was raised over his head.

“I’ll buy you… even for just one day.”

A girl in a wheelchair held out her piggy bank.

It had only 37 yuan and 20 cents in it…