After getting off work and having dinner, Lin Aiguo sat cross-legged on the kang smoking his large tobacco pipe, occasionally coughing twice, as if he could never quite expel the persistent phlegm in his throat.
Because he had gone through quite a bit over the past two years, not only had the wrinkles on his face deepened considerably, but the white hairs on his temples and crown had also become more numerous than the previous year.
After eating, Qian Chunli and Lin Qiang cleared the table and washed the dishes in the kitchen, while the other went back to the Western House to take a nap.
Now that Lin Qiang had moved to the Western House and Lin Yu occasionally visited from her dormitory in the city, the whole house was somber and oppressive.
Lin Aiguo looked out at the pitch-black night through the window, his eyes slightly squinting as he exhaled a puff of smoke from his pipe and sighed out of habit.
