Ten years ago, a high school senior rented an apartment across from my family. I heard he was from a wealthy family.
But because our class schedules and travel methods were different, I hardly ever ran into him.
On the rare occasions we crossed paths in the hallway, we just lowered our heads and made way for each other. I never saw what he looked like.
Later, his housekeeper had to leave for a few days. She gave my family a cookbook and a generous food budget.
She said her young master had a sensitive stomach and needed to be very careful with his meals. She asked us to cook for him daily according to the recipes.
Thanks to him, I got to eat delicious food I couldn't afford before.
So I was always happy to bring him meals.
But each time, he wouldn't open the door and told me to leave the food on the shoe rack.
When I came to collect the dishes, the plates and bowls on the shoe rack were always empty.
I grew curious and wanted to see him in person.