Manbao thought for a moment and replied, "Okay, I'll ask him. Dad, did our uncle really die?"
Old Zhou's smile suddenly stiffened on his face as he let out a long sigh, took the tobacco pipe from behind his waist, and nodded, "Yes, he's dead."
Manbao turned around to squat next to him, propping her chin in her hands, and she too let out a deep sigh, "I never even met my uncle."
Old Zhou, who had just stuffed the tobacco pipe into his mouth, suddenly had red-rimmed eyes and choked on the smoke, unable to suppress his violent coughing, as tears and snot streamed down his face.
Old Zhou, with little regard for appearances, wiped his face and turned to Manbao, who was looking at him in surprise, and forced a smile, "I choked..."
But the tears were like ones that wouldn't dry up.
Old Zhou continued to wipe his eyes while muttering unclearly, "This choking is really something..."
