"You forgot, cousin, when you said you wanted to get married that year, there was no food at home, so you borrowed some from us, Uncle," he said glumly, "today, you've seen for yourself, for my uncle's funeral, my family has indeed spent a lot of money,"
Zhou ErLang was tightly clutching his arm and leading him out, saying sorrowfully, "Last year was another year of disasters, and this year's summer grain hasn't come in yet. The wheat used for the banquet we're holding was borrowed from the villagers, so Uncle, how about you return the rice you borrowed from us back then?"
Zhang Second struggled to break free from Zhou ErLang's grip and said sternly, "I don't remember such a thing. Could it be that you're mistaken?"
"Impossible, Uncle, I have a great memory."
"Youngsters don't remember things; otherwise, wait until I ask your father. He definitely won't know about this."
With that, he hurriedly left.
Zhou ErLang curled his lip and turned to go back.
