Money in The Envelope

On a quiet office alley, Mr. Yuan is mopping the floor, only accompanied by the bright lamps of the alley. It is already seven in the evening. Most of administrative employees and directors that work in that floor are already went home. A door on his left is opened. Two ladies walk out of it while cheerfully chat.

"I'm going to take a leave this Friday," says one of them. Her friend complains, "Huh, so envy of you. I don't have any leave to spend." The first lady nods understand. "You better skip work. Or you just come in the morning and slip out of office after lunch. We need to have preparation to see Takeshi," The first woman suggests before she greets Mr. Yuan, "A Hong, we're leaving." Mr. Yuan nods and replies, "Good night, ladies. Take a good care." The other woman replies, "Good night, A Hong."

Mr. Yuan is stuck in pensive. His body rests on mob stick he have. The conversation between those ladies reminds him of Xiao Ping, as if Xiao Ping who was sleeping with tear trails on her face is in front of him now. "Forgive me, Xiao Ping," he weakly sighs. After a while, he is back in to what he was doing,

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Mr. Yuan just finished moping all floors and heads to rest room to clean it. He just about to open its door when he hears a cellular rings and noises inside. Mr. Yuan postpones his thought to give privacy to the person inside the restroom and decides to wait outside.

"Hello," he hears the person talking on the phone and also steps approaching the door in hurry. "Yes, dear, I'm about to go home," the person says while opening the door. Mr. Yuan sees who he is and straight away solemnly bends. "Good evening, Mr. Mao," he greets the person. Mr. Mao responds with only a smile and raising his eyebrows because he is still busy talking on the phone. "I know, I will buy it on the way home," he says again as walks further.

Mr. Yuan looks at him for a while and then goes inside the restroom. He immediately takes cleaning equipments from the storage room and starts cleaning the urinals. After finished, he grabs a dry clothe and glass cleaner, then starts to clean washbowls. It is then he sees a big brown envelope lies beside one of the washbowl.

Carefully Mr. Yuan takes the envelope. His mind wonders whose is it. Suddenly the envelope breaks down and all of its contents fall to the floor. Mr. Yuan is stunned to see many thousand-NT sheets straggle on the floor.

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Xiao Ping and Xiao Lan are watching television happily. Xiao Lan puts his gipped leg on the coffee table in front of the sofa. When front door is opened, both turn their heads upon it.

"Daddy is home!" Xiao Lan exclaims in joy. "Good evening, dad!"they both greet their father. Mr. Yuan smiles to his children. "Hey, Xiao Lan, why haven't you slept? It's late," he asks his younger son while scrambles Xiao Lan's hair and kisses Xiao Ping's head. "In a minute, Dad. The movie hasn't finished yet," Xiao Lan replies. "You better sleep right after. Tomorrow you are going to back to school," Mr. Yuan reminds him. Xiao Lan nods. Mr. Yuan then approaching the kitchen to kiss his wife before goes to bath room to clean himself.

When he comes out of the bathroom, the living room is quiet. His wife is washing clothes in the backyard while his children are already in their rooms. With a towel wrapping his neck, Mr. Yuan sits on the sofa. He takes hot tea that has been prepared by his wife and has a gulp of it. The tea warms his whole tired body.

Then he touches his pant's pocket. It is bulky as it has the big brown envelope in it. Right from he found it, he keeps the envelope there. Although the envelope doesn't have name on it, Mr. Yuan believes it is Mr. Mao's.

Mr. Yuan is in dilemma. His heart tells him to return the envelope with all the money in it. But.. his thought reminds him of Xiao Ping's tears, his wife's complaints about her old broken sewing machine, and some loans he hasn't been able to pay. The amount of money may be small to the company or Mr. Mao as the president of the TV station. But, it is a lot to him. The money can take care some problems that give him headache. Mr. Yuan lets a long sigh, rests his head on sofa's back then closes his eyes.