Peach and plum bloss

Liu Zhanggui, with a pleased expression, helped Yang Ge up and patted his shoulder, saying with a smile: "People who have read books really know how to speak eloquently. Unlike Wang Dali, that rough fellow, who only knows how to say 'You are just like my father!'”,Liu Zhanggui's eyes followed the cart piled high with sacks of grain, watching Yang Ge stride away. He sighed inwardly, muttering to himself: 'The wages I paid this kid a few days ago must all be spent here...',After turning several corners, the path became increasingly rugged, yet Yang Ge's footsteps grew lighter. The heavy tricycle felt as light and nimble in his hands as a wisp of incense.。