Yesterday, I went to pick up the child from school.
I had already picked up the child and was walking on the road.
I let the group of children being taken care of go ahead.
A little boy ran over and quietly stuffed something into Er Bao's pocket.
I asked what it was.
Er Bao smiled and said it was money from his classmate.
I took a glance and saw it was a hundred yuan bill.
I asked why.
Er Bao stammered.
I said he should return the money to his classmate.
What if the classmate's parents find out the money is missing and say it was with you?
It would be hard to explain.
Er Bao then took the money to give it back to his classmate.
His classmate's grandmother came over and told me,
"My Er Bao wants to give my grandson money."
I said Er Bao said the money was his classmate's.
The grandmother said no, it's my Er Bao's.
It seemed like there was a clue.
On the way home, I asked Er Bao where he got the money.
He said it was a hundred yuan from the fourth set of RMB (at that time, four people ate together without blushing, but later, when one person ate alone, he turned red).
Er Bao said he found a stack of this old money inside a certain bench.
This money was probably part of the lucky money given by Er Bao's grandmother.
When we got home, I gave him a lesson and moved the money to a different place.
This money, when converted into numbers in a bank card, actually loses value.
Now it has appreciated a little, but exchanging it is still meaningless.
It's quite awkward.