After the old man finished eating, he took out a plastic bag from his pocket, which contained tobacco and cigarette paper.
"I won't give you this. It's not that I'm stingy, it's just that this cigarette is too strong, and you young people usually can't get used to it." The old man tore off a piece of paper and explained to Chen Feng.
"It's alright, sir, let me taste it." Chen Feng casually reached out, tore off a piece of paper, and prepared to roll one.
Chen Feng wasn't actually that curious, but since the old man had said so, if Chen Feng didn't smoke one, he would feel like he was disliking the old man.
Regardless of whether it's good or bad, just one bite can bridge the gap and make Chen Feng seem less delicate.
Seeing him start rolling the tobacco, the old man smiled and offered his pipe, and the two of them rolled it together.
The old man was indeed somewhat surprised when he saw Chen Feng's skillful technique.
Most young people wouldn't know how to do this, I didn't expect Chen Feng to be so skilled at it.
Little did they know that when Chen Feng and Lin Nian were poor, they smoked a lot of Lin Nian's grandfather's pipe tobacco; something was better than nothing.
Chen Feng rolled the cigarette into a classic cannon shape, tore off the thicker end, lit it for the old man first, and then lit it for himself.
Knowing the power of tobacco, Chen Feng didn't dare to take a deep drag; he only took a light puff.
Even so, Chen Feng couldn't help but put on a mask of pain. The smoke stung his throat, and his tongue felt burning.
Chen Feng, a smoker for many years, could tell at a glance that this cigarette was the worst kind, even among dry tobacco, it was simply outrageous.
"Haha, I told you you couldn't smoke, I appreciate the thought, you should stick to yours." The old man took a deep drag, exhaled a puff of smoke, laughed at Chen Feng's expression, and patted him on the shoulder.
Having lived for so many years, the old man certainly knew what Chen Feng meant, but even knowing it, Chen Feng's actions made him feel very comfortable, and he had begun to like this young man.
"Sir, I really can't enjoy this. Your cigarette is really strong." Chen Feng smiled wryly, and, adhering to the principle of not wasting any, took another light puff.
This time, however, he barely inhaled and simply exhaled the smoke.
"Okay, that's enough, stop smoking."
The old man reached out and took the cigarette from him. He knew that if he didn't take it from Chen Feng, Chen Feng would finish the cigarette no matter what and wouldn't just throw it away.
Although it was only a brief encounter, the old man had already figured it out: Chen Feng was very thoughtful in his work and would never do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.
This young man is really good.
This time, Chen Feng didn't refuse too much. He handed the cigarette to the old man, took a sip of water, and moistened his tongue.
The smoke made his tongue burn.
"Grandpa, how much does this cigarette cost per pound?" Chen Feng asked.
"Five yuan a pound, the cheapest kind," the old man said with a smile.
"Grandpa, you've made so much money, why don't you smoke something a little better? In my area, the dry tobacco that costs ten yuan a pound is actually pretty good, and it's not this strong."
Chen Feng chuckled and looked at the old man.
Just how bad was this cigarette? Let's put it this way: Lin Nian's family was poor enough, and his grandfather was incredibly meticulous.
Even his grandfather smoked tobacco that cost eight yuan a pound; he wouldn't smoke this kind.
To be honest, tobacco is already economical; one pound of tobacco is enough for a normal person to smoke for two months.
Even elderly people with a strong smoking habit can smoke for a month and a half.
So, five yuan or eight yuan doesn't make much difference at all. Saving three yuan in two months is really unnecessary.
Even the most meticulous person wouldn't be this meticulous; in fact, this isn't even meticulousness, it's just being nitpicky.
"Sigh, as long as it smokes, it's all the same, what's the difference between good and bad?"
The old man smiled and continued smoking his two lit pipes.
Where the old man couldn't see, Chen Feng couldn't help but curl his lip; he had truly seen something new today.
Such a stingy person is truly unprecedented; it's simply outrageous.
"Grandpa, can I take a look inside your car? I've never seen anyone else's gold panning truck before," Chen Feng said to the old man.
"Feel free to look around. There's nothing valuable in the car, just some junk."
The old man was quite generous; he simply waved his hand, showing no intention of following.
Tell him the car key is in the ignition and he just needs to turn it to start the car.
Chen Feng turned on his flashlight and looked at the Ford Transit van.
Upon closer inspection, it's even more exaggerated than it appeared at first glance.
The right side of the vehicle is slightly dented inward, probably because it was scraped by someone. A piece of paint has been scratched off, and it's unclear how long ago the accident occurred.
Shining a flashlight on the four tires, Chen Feng lightly kicked one of them. The treads were almost completely worn away, leaving them almost bare. Chen Feng grinned at the sight.
The two headlights are yellowish, and there is a crack in the left headlight.
Opening the driver's seat door, you can see that the old man had slumped so deeply in the driver's seat that the foam had no elasticity at all; it would sink in with the slightest pressure, as if it were compressed.
The car wasn't dirty, though; the old man had clearly wiped it down.
Upon reaching the back, Chen Feng saw a bed, surrounded by various odds and ends and tools.
Just by looking at the print on the bedding, Chen Feng knew it was definitely quite old, because it had the same print as the bedding his mother had when she got married.
This pattern was popular back then.
The carriage was a bit messy, unlike Chen Feng's tidy one. He gently rummaged through it but didn't see any good food.
There were also quite a few pancakes, cucumbers, and scallions in the carriage, which were obviously homegrown.
Of course, Chen Feng didn't look through it carefully; he just glanced at it casually and didn't know if there was anything else underneath.
Those tools were quite old; the handles were shiny black, and the dials reflected light.
Some of the tools appeared to have had their heads broken off, and were stuffed with rags and plastic.
Overall, there's nothing special about it; it seems to be pretty much what Chen Feng thought.
"So, what did you figure out?" the old man asked with a smile as he turned around.
"I can't figure out anything, but these tools are definitely quite old. You can't usually find them in such good condition," Chen Feng joked as he sat back down.
"Of course, these are all quite old. The more you use them, the more comfortable they become. You just don't get used to the new ones." The old man picked up his chipped thermos and took a sip of water.
Chen Feng agreed with this statement. It wasn't that he was reluctant to buy new ones, but rather that once you've used a tool for a long time, you can use it with your eyes closed and know how to apply force.
If I switch to a new one, I'll find it harder to get used to; it takes time to get used to it.
The two chatted for a while longer before returning to their respective cars to prepare for bed.
After Chen Feng got back into the car, he locked the doors, just as he used to do when he slept in the hills at night.
I always feel insecure if I don't lock it.
As was his habit, Chen Feng opened the movie app on his phone and saw that familiar opening scene again.
It's true, Chen Feng has been watching this movie in Qiuling City for almost half a month, and he still doesn't understand the beginning.
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