Zhang Laicai had calmed down a lot recently, not because he was staying in the village, but because he had gone to the city a few days earlier to pick up his younger son, Zhang Bin.
Zhang Bin, like Zhang Ling, was accepted into university, but he graduated a year later than Zhang Ling. Zhang Ling graduated last year, while he just graduated this year, and, having grown accustomed to city life, he didn't want to come back.
That's why Zhang Laicai dragged him back.
"Achoo! Which little brat is cursing me?"
Resting in the yard and fanning himself with a hand fan, Zhang Laicai suddenly sneezed and grunted dissatisfiedly.
"I bet the whole village is cursing you!"
Zhang Laicai's wife dared to think it but didn't dare say it aloud. Instead, she said to him, "It's so late and you're still not sleeping? Don't you have to work tomorrow?"
Work?
