Aunt Wang lay on the kang, her eyes shining brighter than the oil lamp.
Fubao lay beside Aunt Wang and heard her mumbling, "What's been going on these days? It's been almost half a year. Before, someone would bring something every other day, but for the past six months, it's been so irregular, sometimes they bring things, sometimes they don't."
Fubao sighed, choosing not to respond.
She felt her mother was too greedy. After all, what they were doing was not honorable. If they didn't quit soon, they might eventually face a huge disaster.
They were villagers, living right next door to the Liang family, separated only by a wall.
If the Liang family ever found out about this, even the saliva from the villagers could drown them mother and daughter, yet her mother seemed to never consider the future, focusing only on the immediate gains and losses.
...
As midnight approached, Aunt Wang began to feel the strain and nodded off repeatedly.
