Huang Qifa's words were like thunder.
The elder sitting on the cane chair suddenly opened his eyes.
The most important thing for him at the moment was not power or money—it was his life. He wanted to continue living. For him, it was a luxury to even live for another two months, let alone two years.
"A small hill? A blessed spot?" asked the elder.
"The hill was not big, but it had spirit!" said Huang Qifa.
"What do you want? To move the hill to Beijing?" asked the elder with a smile. He was so weak.
"You can't move the hill here, but I can go there." Huang Qifa took a deep breath.
"Haha!" Guo Sirou's grandpa laughed.
"You still haven't given up, have you?" said Guo Sirou's grandpa.
He shook his hand and stopped talking.
Huang Qifa stood up and left the courtyard with assistance.
"He's lost his mind!" said Guo Sirou's grandpa.
