In the hot summer of 1958, in the barren hills of the western suburbs, Old Matsushita had just finished laying out more than thirty clips. At the age of sixteen, his father's monthly salary was forty-one-and-a-half dollars, with seven mouths waiting for him to eat. When I stepped into the courtyard gate, I saw Yan Bugui repairing flowers and plants and asked me why I didn't go carry the big bag - I answered first and the third uncle went to the back room. The pot at home was still empty and I had to collect the rabbits tomorrow morning. I have to fill my stomach first before talking about the debt in this yard.
Hey hey😁......