I opened the short video app again.

The video of a mother rescuing a girl has already received over a million likes.

And the replies under my comment have also exceeded ten thousand.

Most of them are insults towards me.

Not to mention the comments that were overly aggressive and were deleted by the platform.

My private messages were also filled with filth, insults, terrifying images, and cursed images.

I also received a phone call from the local police in my school, saying that I am suspected of causing trouble and that I need to cooperate with their investigation.

After explaining the situation at home to the police, they asked me to go to the police station as soon as I return to school.

At this point, I'm starting to feel scared.

But do I regret this matter?

No, I don't.

In today's society, there are so many fraudsters, and there are many people on the internet trying to gain sympathy and scam donations every day.

How would I know if that woman was a fraudster or not?

Should I have just let her kowtow to me? Is she stupid?

The police are also like that. There are so many fraudsters they don't bother with, but when I boast on the internet, they come to investigate me?

How ridiculous!

I wasn't like this before, really.

After my mother died, my relationship with my father completely fell apart.

During high school, I studied hard and deliberately applied to a school far away from home for the college entrance examination because I didn't want to see him.

I hate him!

Whenever I see him, I think of my mother and my sister.

At the same time, I also learned that one must have money. In my freshman year, I started part-time jobs, hoping to have more money in hand.

My classmates went shopping, dining, and traveling, but I didn't join them.

I had no intention of spending any money. In one year, I saved up quite a sum.

During that year, I rarely contacted my father. He didn't have a phone, so I couldn't contact him.

Occasionally, I would think about going back to see him, but when I thought about the expensive travel expenses, I hesitated.

Forget it, I'll wait for him to come see me.

In my second year of college, I saw a cry for help on my friend's social media.

It was reposted by one of my classmates, saying that his childhood friend's mother was seriously ill and needed money for surgery.

I saw the photo and his mother really resembled mine.

I transferred all the hard-earned money I saved to him. I didn't want that woman to die. I couldn't save my mother back then, but now that I have some money, I won't become a person like our neighbor.

After a month, I saw a photo of him and his childhood friend in my classmate's social media.

His friend's family owns a BMW.

I don't know the specific model of the car, but I recognize the BMW logo. They went to a bar to drink.

I fell silent.

That was the money I earned from working in a restaurant, and I only allowed myself to eat one bun after my part-time job in the dormitory.

I asked my classmate if they could ask his friend's family to return the money to me.

How can I describe his expression?

There was confusion, contempt, and a sense of superiority as if looking down on someone inferior.

"I saw the amount you donated, it wasn't much. Let it go."

"His family is wealthy."

"You can think of it as a charitable act. His mother has recovered from her illness, so consider it accumulating virtue."

"Please return the money to me, I beg you."

He impatiently waved his hand. It's not like I asked you to donate the money, and it's not like I used your money. Don't bother me, go find someone else if you want.

I called the phone number on the cry for help.

A woman answered, but I didn't know if it was the same woman who was sick.

I asked her, "You have money now, your family owns such a nice car, can you return the money I donated?"

She said, "Are you crazy?"

Then she hung up, and I couldn't get through again.

It was quite a sum, the money I saved for a year. I couldn't bear to go back and see the money my father saved up.

Thinking of my father, I wiped away the tears at the corners of my eyes.

I hate fraudsters!