A trembling hand stretched out and placed it on the top of his grandson’s head.
“Pretending to be a writer for a lifetime… literate… too tired…”
Lao Chai breathed hard, his chest rising and falling like a bellows, but he was repressed for fear of frightening his cowardly grandson.
This is the last thing he can do for him as a grandfather.
“I… I’m going… I’m going to heaven… I’m selling pork!”
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