"Sigh, you say that a person gets a strange illness, but why do these precious flowers also contract such strange diseases?" Xu Yongqian sighed regretfully.
"Ah, Old Xu, you're right about that. These flowers are just like people; the more delicate they are, the easier they get sick, and when they do, it's always some bizarre illness!" Boss Jiangg spoke with a wealth of experience, and his words seemed to carry a philosophical depth.
Curious upon hearing this, Wang Xiaoqiang couldn't help but ask Boss Jiangg, "Old man, what is this 'Golden Sand Tree Chrysanthemum' you mentioned? Is it a type of chrysanthemum?"
Wang Xiaoqiang's layman question amused Boss Jiangg, who had been paying attention to him ever since he arrived with Xu Yongqian, but Wang's simple attire of a manual laborer intrigued him. He knew Xu Yongqian's background well; before he had been a figure in the provincial government, so why was he accompanied by a young man dressed like a farmer?
