After hearing this, Zhao Ziqian couldn't help feeling a little dissatisfied.
He frowned and muttered to himself, "How can this be? Our family and theirs have already paid five households, so how can we even talk about whether we are related or not? What qualifications do they have to ask us to pay this money?"
Thinking of this, he looked around and saw that the fellow tribesmen who had come with them slipped away one after another like frightened birds when they heard that they had to pay money.
At this moment, everyone present had left, leaving only the father and son, who still stood firmly in their place, and engaged in a heated debate with Wang Xiaolan and others without backing down.
However, faced with Wang Xiaolan's aggressive attitude, the father and son finally lost.
Zhao Ziqian cursed inwardly, "These people are such scoundrels! They're letting us, father and son, hold on. They don't want to be taken advantage of. The only solution is to retreat."
Thinking of this, he stepped forward and gently tugged at the corner of Zhao Sanhai's clothes, whispering, "Dad, this matter is like a tangled mess. It's hard to figure out any clues for the time being, and there will be no results. Why don't we go home first, and after dinner, we can talk to the clan members and make a long-term plan."
Zhao Sanhai felt that his son's words made sense, so he glared at Zhaodi and cursed, "It's really unfair for Sihai to have an unfilial daughter like you." After that, he was about to walk out of the crowd.
Wang Xiaolan gently nudged Zhaodi, as if sending a silent signal. Zhaodi understood, and quickly stepped forward, holding Zhao Sanhai tightly.
"Uncle Sanhai, you can't leave."
"Why can't I leave?"
"Uncle Sanhai, didn't you say I was unfilial? I don't want to bear this stigma. Can you lend me some money to bury my father in the Zhao family's ancestral tomb? I'll pay you back when I have money. If I can't pay it back in this lifetime, I'll let my children pay it back, okay?"
As she spoke, tears gushed out like a flood, and snot hung down like two long dragons. She cried so sadly, as if she wanted to cry out her heart and lungs, which deeply moved the onlookers.
When Zhao Sanhai heard this, he thought to himself, "This girl is clearly trying to pick a fight with me!" The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He's lived to this age, yet he's been fooled around by this little girl. He's so miserable! If she had to wait for her children to pay back the money, he'd probably have been reincarnated in the underworld by now."
He cursed inwardly, "Humph! This stinky girl is clearly trying to extort money from me."
He glared at the sharp-tongued Zhaodi like a furious lion, thinking to himself: Such a difficult little girl, it's really hard to fool her! For a moment, he was speechless.
At this time, someone began to persuade Zhao Sanhai, saying, "That's right! You really can't leave! Zhaodi and her sister have become orphans. They are so pitiful. As their uncle, you can't just stand by and watch them!"
At this moment, Zhao Sanhai was completely focused and just wanted to escape from this place as soon as possible.
He stared at the person who blocked his way with his eyes wide open, and asked loudly, "Why can't I leave?"
"You're her uncle, so you should come out and help. You can't just watch your niece be left alone and helpless! You can't just watch your cousin rot here!"
After hearing what everyone said, Zhao Sanhai was so angry that his eyes were spitting fire, like two fireballs about to explode. The veins on his forehead bulged out, and he looked as ferocious as a dragon, as if he would break through the constraints of his skin in the next second.
His face was ashen, as if covered by frost, his lips were trembling, but he could not utter a word. He could only stare at everyone with wide eyes.
Facing the crowd, he raised his crutch in anger and stabbed at them like a spear.
Seeing this, those who were blocking him retreated like frightened birds, and he took the opportunity to quickly escape from the crowd.
He angrily said, "You can do whatever you want, it's none of my business."
Zhao Sanhai and his son, like defeated roosters, dejectedly departed. Their figures, caught in the afterglow of the setting sun, looked forlorn and utterly dejected. As if their spines had been ripped out, their backs bent, their heads lowered and their steps unsteady, a stark contrast to the swagger they had shown when they arrived.
When everyone saw this scene, they burst into laughter from the bottom of their hearts.
…
The next day.
Wang Xiaolan and Zhao Lihan supported Mr. Zhang and walked towards the mountain behind the village with the offerings.
Mr. Zhang had just been discharged from the hospital and was extremely weak. Every step he took was like a difficult tug-of-war with gravity. He walked and stopped, and gasped from time to time. The sound was like an old bellows, as if telling people about his fatigue.
Zhao Lihan saw that every step he took was so difficult, and he really couldn't bear it. He suggested several times that he carry the old man on his back, but he firmly disagreed.
"Your mother has suffered a lot for me. Walking this short distance is nothing. Asking you to carry me would seem insincere. I have to crawl up the mountain today."
As they were talking, a burst of firecrackers came from another hilltop, crackling like popping beans and beating like war drums.
The sound of the suona is sometimes high-pitched and passionate, like galloping horses, and sometimes gentle and low, like crying and complaining.
Old Master Zhang pointed to the opposite mountain and said, "What's going on on that mountain? It's so lively."
Zhao Lihan and Wang Xiaolan knew that it was the day of Zhao Sihai's funeral.
"Nothing, an old man in the village passed away."
When Mr. Zhang heard that someone had died, he didn't ask any further questions, but he felt inexplicably sad.
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