Ring, ring, ring!
In the dead of night, the retirement home's landline rang.
In the office, Director Shen, wearing glasses, picked up the receiver.
He listened quietly for a moment, then replied:
"Hmm, got it."
With his gray hair, Director Shen hung up the phone and sat alone for a while. The care worker patrolling the corridor with a flashlight was attracted by the light:
"Director Shen, still not sleeping?"
"Haha, just finishing up the bookkeeping. The month is nearing its end again, need to get the expenses clear."
The care worker chuckled:
"You worry too much. This retirement home doesn't even make money, yet still draws attention."
Director Shen, in a mild tone:
"Entrusted with a task, one must fulfill it loyally. Cheng Ze gives so much money every month to support the old brothers of the Righteous Fist Society and some neighborhood folks with no one to rely on. If I don't do it well, it would be a shame to his goodwill."
