My classmate. After graduation, he returned to the county town.

Took the civil service exam. Got married and had children.
All his Moments are full of pictures of his kids.
He didn't come to the reunion last year. In the group chat, he said he was doing okay, no need to worry.
I was passing by on a business trip. Asked him to have a meal.
He rode his electric bike over. Half of his hair was gone.
At a roadside barbecue stall. Two bottles of beer down. He said a sentence.
“You guys are talking about changing jobs, fundraising, buying a house. I can't join the conversation.”
“But when you talk about your parents being sick, I can join in.”
His dad had a stroke the year before. He rides his electric bike home every noon. Feeding him, turning him over, wiping his body. Two years.
“You guys are out there running around. I’m stuck at home.”
“You earn money. I earn time.”
He finished the beer.
“On the day my dad left, he held my hand and said, Son, luckily you’re here.”
“These four words. Are enough for me to live the second half of my life.”
I paid the bill. He rode his electric bike to send me off.
On the back seat, the hair on the back of his head. Half of it was white.
He’s thirty-two.