Upon hearing his mother's question, Jiang Dafu maintained his original posture and replied naively, "No, the money Mother gave me wasn't enough. The doctor said he could substitute two medicines for a cheaper one, but it wouldn't affect the efficacy."
As soon as he began speaking, the second son and his wife averted their eyes, unable to bear looking.
They simultaneously moved back and raised their hands, wanting to cover their ears.
As expected, scolding and the sound of a duster hitting the ground rang out together.
"Couldn't you have asked for credit if there wasn't enough money? He's coming back tomorrow, so why not give it to him then?" Grandma Jiang's voice suddenly changed.
The duster struck fiercely, but its aim wasn't accurate. No one knew whether old Mr. Jiang did it intentionally or had lost his strength in anger, but the duster grazed past his shoulder.
It hurt a little, though.
But Jiang Dafu didn't have time to worry about that.
