Return after rebirth: The devil who helps his brother becomes the devil who kills his brother

The Song family at the foot of the mountain is brightly lit.

Song Zhigang went to the mountain farm today. After looking for the boss for a long time, he finally agreed to meet him.

He begged for a long time and said all the good things he said, but he still didn't want him, even if he offered to cut his wages in half. Unexpectedly, the boss actually said that even if he didn't want a penny, the mountain farm couldn't hire a labor camp prisoner to work.

Song Zhigang came back dejectedly. After drinking all afternoon, he was now smashing things all over the house and acting like a drunken maniac.

Mrs. Song sat helplessly on the ground and cried.

"Oh my God! How can we live like this? Gangzi, please wake up! You knocked mom down! My son~"

Song Zhigang picked up the phone and was about to throw it to the ground when he suddenly heard the word "Son" and stopped.

Yes, I still have a son, so I don’t have nothing.

After wiping his face twice, Song Zhigang woke up a little. He picked up Mrs. Song from the ground and said, "Mom, I will go to the city to find some work tomorrow. You can cook me some food when you get up in the morning."

Seeing that her son finally stopped going crazy, Mrs. Song quickly agreed. "Yes, Mom will give you two eggs. Oh, no, there are no eggs at home. Mom will fry shredded potatoes for you."

"Don't go playing cards tomorrow. Keep an eye on that bastard and see what she does every day. The money in that bastard's hand must be returned."

"Okay, okay..."

Mrs. Song quickly nodded in agreement. As long as her son didn't go crazy, she could do anything.

Song Zhigang's idea is beautiful, but the reality is very cruel.

Early in the morning, he rode a bicycle twenty miles to the city.

The moment I took my feet off the bike and stepped on the ground, my eyes went dark and I was confused. I don't know where to find work.

Song Zhigang has a primary school education, which is enough for daily life, but it is quite difficult to find a job based on knowledge.

He walked along the street aimlessly.

After wandering around for a long time, I finally saw a restaurant on the corner of the street with a bright red recruitment advertisement posted on the door.

Song Zhigang parked his bicycle at the door and opened the door curtain excitedly and nervously.

"Hello... hello, are you looking for someone to serve the plate?" Song Zhigang stuttered nervously.

It was clearly written that they were recruiting waiters, but when he came up he said he would serve the plates. Fortunately, the boss understood.

"Yes, are you here to apply?" The owner of the restaurant came out of the kitchen and asked casually. He looked up and suddenly waved his hand again.

"You just came out? We don't want to be a prisoner through labor."

"How...how did you know this?" Song Zhigang was thrown a basin of cold water by his boss's words, and his heart felt cold.

"Haha, you have a shiny bald head, how do you know I know that? Look at the good people on the street, how can any of the good people pick on your hairstyle? Get out quickly! My customers are so scared that they don't dare to come in." Boss. He waved his hands and started to chase him away.

Song Zhigang's face was terrifyingly gloomy, but there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't dare to fight in the city. I could only turn around and leave bitterly.

He pushed the car with a cold face and walked forward angrily.

But until we reached the end of the street, we couldn't find another one recruiting people.

I got in the car and went to the supermarket to buy a bottle of liquor.

When I was checking out, I was looked at by the boss again, and even the money he gave me was shining in the sun.

Grandma, is one dollar worth giving you a fake one? Song Zhigang went home dejectedly.

Others use wine to drown their sorrows and make them worse, but not Song Zhigang. He uses wine to relieve his sorrow and change his anger. When Song Zhigang got home, he set up the table and started pouring wine into his mouth one cup at a time. The more he drank, the more angry he became. He couldn't forget the looks he received today.

The passers-by stayed away from him, as if he had an infectious disease; the shop owners looked at themselves as if they were looking at bed bugs.

The anger grew stronger and stronger, and finally merged into a sentence, squeezed out from Song Zhigang's teeth.

"MD, Liu Qiang, I want you to cut off your descendants!"