One year, I visited a poor household with my leader. The car took an hour and a half to get there. Upon entering the yard, I saw a bamboo gate, a weathered and crumbling mud brick wall, farm tools in the corner, and an empty pigsty. The family used to get by, but the husband and wife both died in a building collapse while working, leaving behind a grandmother with nearly blind eyes and two children, an 11-year-old brother and a 9-year-old sister.

Compensation money was taken by relatives, and household items were forcibly taken or "borrowed." They had minimum subsistence allowance but their income was too little, life was very hard. They had no decent furniture but kept things tidy as best as they could. The children were silent and withdrawn, forced to bear the family burden, with little progress in school, doing a lot of household chores and farm work.
The leader didn’t ask many questions; the grandmother was deaf, the children didn’t speak, and their eyes avoided contact. They left behind some belongings and money. I thought this was in the past; the unit has annual tasks, and I’ve seen so much that I became numb. There are too many pitiful people, each with their own misfortunes.
Until this year, someone sent a banner to the leader: "Caring for the People, Like Fish and Water." The leader looked confused. Then came a TV drama scene: a down-and-out traveler returning home in fine clothes, making large donations to build good relations. They specially brought city and county leaders to thank them, expressing gratitude for years of silent support.
It turned out that after that visit, the leader, through the village secretary, gave money to the children every month in the name of the public office. Because of the children’s pride, they didn’t want to make a big fuss. The leader called monthly to check on their situation, asked about school and village conditions, and firmly refused to disclose any information. Everyone kept the secret in good faith.
The brother didn’t get into college and worked as an assistant at a photo studio; the sister was admitted to a scholarship program and graduated. The brother was smart and hardworking, learned photography, then started making videos. He caught the short-video trend, established a company, and employed a group of people with good profits. When he was in school, he realized the subsidies were much higher than normal, but he didn’t seek more or have the ability to do so. Now he found out about the leader through a teacher who had been trying to reach him.
We were all surprised. The leader would even hesitate over buying a pack of cigarettes—whether 20 or 15 yuan—usually wouldn’t smoke his own if he could get it from others. He wasn’t stingy but never generous; we joked that his family must be strict, and all his money was handed over. Unexpectedly, besides these two children, he also supported another one for six years.
The brother insisted on bowing to the leader, but the leader firmly refused, pulling him into a hug. The brother said he would bow to him, then knelt for a long time. When he finally stood up straight, both of them were in tears.
At that moment, it was the most silent display of these two men’s pride, the best tribute to life.