Dodoma city, Lorraine Town.
"Perfectly good farmland, bulldozed just like that. What a monstrous waste of Heaven's gifts! Back in the Far East, people would spit on us for this!"
The old East African farmer Wang Weimo watched the land he had painstakingly cultivated for decades being leveled by everyone, unable to stop himself from lamenting at the side.
"Dad, you can't cling to old ideas. East Africa is different from other places—we have plenty of land. I heard East Africa is now the world's second-largest country. This little patch of land is nothing to East Africa." Wang Weimo's eldest son, Wang Lun, tried to persuade him from the side.
"What do you little brat know? A son selling his father's land feels no pain! Back when I was in the Far East... your grandfather and grandmother may not have starved to death, but it was damn close. Just because we have more crops now doesn't mean we can squander them! What world's second-largest country? That doesn't lessen the value of this land one bit." Wang Weimo lectured him in a tone of frustrated disappointment.
Wang Lun was completely numb. What he hated most was hearing his father bring up his life in the Far East. His old man's days in the Far East Empire had indeed been hard, but Wang Lun and the new generation of East Africans had never experienced them. To Wang Lun, those "hardship" days sounded like tales from the Arabian Nights.
Of course, when he was little, Wang Lun might have enjoyed hearing his father ramble on about life in the Far East and his legendary experiences. But even the most captivating stories grew tiresome after being heard for more than a decade, especially when they came mixed with lectures.
"Alright, Dad, you must be