Only then did Yang Jing understand that this "middle-aged man" who looked to be in his forties was actually only in his thirties.
Yang Jing couldn't help but sigh. This era really couldn't be compared with the later generations. In the later generations, men in their forties looked like they were thirty, but now it was the other way around...
In this day and age, the pressure of life is too great!
This elder brother seemed to be quite willing to chat with others. After saying what he just said, he seemed to remember something and asked, "I was so busy talking just now that I didn't ask what your name is, elder brother?"
"Oh. No need to mention my name. My last name is Yang, as in poplar tree. How about you, brother?"
"My last name is Zhao, which is my stepfather's last name. Originally my last name was Guo, but during the three-year famine, my family starved to death except for my mother, me and my sister. So after my mother remarried, I took my stepfather's last name."
Then he shrugged his shoulders again and cursed, "Damn God!"
As the two were talking, Brother Zhao dragged Yang Jing around in the alley, making Yang Jing almost confused. Finally, they stopped in front of a courtyard.
This was a very ordinary small courtyard in Jinling in the early 1980s. Brother Zhao got off the car, opened the gate, and pushed the tricycle directly in. As soon as he entered the door, he shouted loudly: "Mom, guests are coming."
Following this shout, the screen door of the house was pushed open, and an old woman who looked to be in her sixties walked out.
"Xiao Zheng is back? Who is this?"
"Mom, this is a young man I met in the market. Brother Yang wanted to buy our painting, but the market manager happened to come, so I brought Brother Yang to our house to talk. Mom, is my dad feeling better?"
"Hey...your dad is still the same. Now he's waiting for you to make money to buy medicine."
As she spoke, the old woman smiled at Yang Jing and said, "Come, young man, come in and sit down. The house is noisy, don't mind it."
"Thank you, Auntie." Yang Jing said politely, and followed the old woman into the house. This house was a very ordinary north room of a bungalow. The lights were on and it was quite bright, but there was a strong smell of Chinese herbal medicine in the house. It was obvious that there was a patient in the house, and he should be seriously ill.
Not long after entering the room, Brother Zhao walked in with the scroll in his hand.
"Brother Yang, were you just about to ask about this painting?"
Yang Jing nodded and was about to say something when Brother Zhao said, "Let's go inside and look at it. This painting doesn't fit here."
But as soon as he finished speaking, a weak voice rang out from inside the room: "Zhao Zheng, you can't sell that painting. It's a family heirloom passed down by our ancestors."
Zhao Zheng shook his head helplessly, gave Yang Jing a calm expression, then lifted the door curtain and walked into the inner room. After a while, Yang Jing clearly heard a quarrel coming from inside.
"Dad, look at what you've become. Why are you still clinging to that heirloom? If you don't go to the hospital for treatment, your condition may get worse."
"It's okay if it gets worse. I won't live much longer anyway, but that painting was passed down by our Zhao family's ancestors. I can't sell it. If I sell it, how can I face my ancestors after I die?"
"Dad, if you want to see our ancestors, you'd better wait! Even if the painting is a family heirloom, it is not as important as your health. After selling this painting, you will have money to see a doctor. By then, you will definitely live another 30 years. You can talk about meeting our Zhao family's ancestors after you are 100 years old."
Zhao Zheng's mother obviously heard the quarrel inside. She smiled apologetically at Yang Jing, lifted the curtain and walked in. Then, voices of comfort were heard from inside.
"Old Zhao, just listen to Xiao Zheng. It's just a painting. If you lose your life, how can I live? Just listen to Xiao Zheng this time. Let's focus on curing the disease!"
Zhao Zheng also followed suit to persuade him, and after a while, the old voice stopped talking.
The door curtain was lifted, and Zhao Zheng walked out from the inner room. He gave Yang Jing a wry smile, picked up the somewhat thick scroll, and walked to another room. Yang Jing immediately stood up and followed him in...
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