After listening for a long time, Zhang Yu finally remembered something.

When he was an intern in his senior year, he shared a room with others for a period of time because he didn't have much money.

That was the first time Zhang Yu rented a house, and the house was indeed somewhat magical, so he still remembers it clearly to this day.

The house originally had only three bedrooms, one living room, one kitchen and two bathrooms, but the landlord had to divide it into twelve rooms of varying sizes. Some of the rooms were so small that they could only accommodate a single bed and a bed. It's a small table and doesn't even have a window.

The living room upon entering was separated by three bedrooms, leaving only a narrow and dark passage, the kind that had to be turned on even during the day.

In order to save money, Zhang Yu lived in a room converted from a balcony for half a year. He did not move out until he got a formal job.

He remembered clearly that the colleague who took care of him during his internship also lived there, and he rented a small room that was converted from the master bedroom bathroom.

When he was on the phone with his family, the dialect he spoke was similar to the person in front of him.

Zhang Yu couldn't understand the dialect, but his colleague came over to complain to him afterwards, saying that people in his hometown always thought that he would make a lot of money after going to college. However, college students are not uncommon in today's society, especially for people like him. College students who graduated from third-rate schools, have no background, and go out alone to find a good job will not be able to find any good jobs.

With his small salary, if he didn't be frugal, he wouldn't be able to survive in this city where land is at a premium.

But my parents and relatives back home don’t think so. They always think that people in big cities are superior and that they can make a lot of money by staying in big cities.

Since he graduated, his parents have asked for living expenses every month. After all, they are his biological parents, and he should be filial.

But those relatives and friends who are usually out of reach would call him from time to time to borrow money. As long as he hesitated, he would be rich in his hometown and would not look down on poor relatives like them, etc. A series of rumors spread out.

The key is that his parents don't understand him at all. If his relatives and friends cannot borrow money from him, they will complain to his parents.

His parents felt that their face was as big as the sky, and they would call and scold him every time, forcing him to lend out the little money he had managed to save through frugality.

When he said this, the colleague's eyes were red, and he scolded the so-called relatives over and over again in dialect.

In this process, Zhang Yu understood a small part of the dialect meaning by combining the meanings expressed in the upper and lower sentences. .

Although the tone of voice of the woman in front of him was slightly different from that of his colleague, Zhang Yu was still able to capture the repeated word "relative" in her words. After all, this was also the word that his colleague uttered the most when cursing.

He turned to look at Aunt Zhao aside and said uncertainly: "Is she talking about relatives? She is here to see relatives!"

After hearing Zhang Yu's words, the woman's eyes lit up, and then she nodded crazily.

Aunt Zhao, who was carrying a laundry stick, relaxed a lot when she heard that she was here to see her relatives.

But she was still a little worried. After all, there were still a lot of kidnappers these days. Even if they were starving, they couldn't stop some people from being greedy about finding a son who could break pots for themselves. She asked directly. : "What's your relative's name? I know everyone nearby. Tell it and I'll help you find it."

"...Lotus..."

This time Aunt Zhao heard the name clearly: "Lotus, let me think about it! The ones around here are called Lotus..." Aunt Zhao frowned as she thought about it. The older generation likes to use whatever flowers, grass, etc. When it comes to naming the girls in the family, many of them have had the same names in their lives. They only know where to find someone based on Lotus.

Apart from anything else, if she calls out "Lotus" in the street, at least three or four people will turn around.

Just for a moment, Aunt Zhao remembered six or seven people named Lotus. She frowned and asked the woman, "What are your relatives' surnames?"

The woman answered in dialect at first, but seeing that everyone couldn't understand her, she held it in for a long time before she came up with a particularly awkward "Gong".

"The surname is Gong. Is there anyone surnamed Gong in our area? Why haven't I heard of it?" Qi Mao (Qi Gang's father) scratched his head, with a confused look on his face. He didn't see his mother standing behind him at all. His face dropped as he finished speaking.

Upon hearing this, the woman's eyes dimmed instantly.

Looking at the old lady's dark face, Aunt Zhao couldn't bear to see Qi Mao continue to seek death, and quickly interrupted him: "How old are you? You have the nerve to say that you know everything, why don't we have anyone named Gong here? ."

However, Qi Mao and Qi Gang are indeed a father and son. When they really want to die, they are the kind of two donkeys who can't pull them back.

Anyway, Qi Mao didn't realize Aunt Zhao's kindness at all, and still said to himself: "Gong Hehua, haha, Gong Hehua, the lotus arches outwards, it's not the lotus, it's the one that arches outwards, hahaha, this is Who named it? It’s so vivid..."

Before he finished his sentence, the impatient old lady behind him couldn't bear it any longer and decisively stretched out her palm and slapped him hard on the back of the head.

The sudden attack made Qi Mao dizzy for a moment, and he suppressed his laughter. He turned his head with doubts on his face. When he saw clearly that the person who attacked was his own mother, he couldn't help but show grievance on his face, and his tone was full of confusion: "Mother. , why did you hit me?"

The old lady did not respond to her son's question. She just stood there with a dark face and stared at the boss with her eyes.

When Qi Mao didn't get a response, he complained to Old Man Qi who was standing next to him: "Dad, look at Mom, she beat me again. I didn't make a mistake this time."

Aunt Zhao, who knew the truth next to her, couldn't help but cover her eyes. She no longer wanted to see him seeking death.

Old Man Qi tried his best to control his itchy hands, so that he did not slap his stupid son on the head like his old wife did.

The old lady just showed a scary smile and asked through gritted teeth: "Little bastard, please say what you just said again."

"Just now, what did I just say?" Qi Mao touched the aching back of his head with a look of confusion and innocence on his face.

After a while, he seemed to remember something, and said with some uncertainty: "I don't mean anything else, I just think this name and this surname go together, it's very funny."

Qi Mao said, as if to prove it, he chuckled twice.

As soon as these words came out, Old Man Qi, his own father, couldn't stand it anymore.

He turned around, not wanting to witness his son's next tragedy.

The old lady's teeth were almost broken, and the expression on her face became more and more ferocious.


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