"We are like weeds in troubled times; as long as our roots aren't plucked out, we will survive no matter what, eating grass or tree bark—survival is a must, isn't it?"
"To survive, to be stuck in the mud, to be trampled on the ground, we must live on."
"As long as we live, one day we'll see an era of peace and prosperity."
"Am I right?"
Li Guanyi turned around and saw that many things had been placed on his table.
The people who had sensed his presence and followed him in the shadows had come; they put down their offerings, small and not very valuable things, sunflower seeds, peanuts, roasted broad beans, a full table of them. Li Zhaowen closed her folding fan and lightly tapped it against her palm, pondering for a moment before standing up.
Watching the scene quietly, the old shopkeeper placed a pot of tea on the table and said softly:
"Drink this tea; it's on the house."
"The offerings may not be much, but they're genuine. You're welcome to the tea anytime you visit."
