Qin Ming nodded without a word.
He had long known that all feasts must come to an end.
Though he now looked like nothing more than an ordinary man, the two families belonged to two different worlds.
Peddler Zhou opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end said nothing. He merely cupped his hands, then returned to the neighboring house to begin packing.
That night, the sounds from the neighboring courtyard were more numerous than usual.
The woman's quiet complaints, the peddler's sighs, A-Fu asking why they had to leave, and A-Yuan saying nothing.
Qin Ming sat in the darkness and listened all night.
Dawn was just beginning to break.
The Zhou family hitched up their ox cart. Their luggage consisted of only two bundles and several quilts.
The woman and A-Yuan sat in the cart, while A-Fu walked alongside it.
Qin Ming stood at the door to see the Zhou family off.
Suddenly, A-Fu ran over, pulled something from his clothes, and stuffed it into Qin Ming's hand.
It was a stone.
An ordinary piece of bluestone, palm-sized, with rounded edges. Two little figures had been crudely carved into it, one large and one small, with an unrecognizable lump beside them.
A-Fu had most likely carved it. His carving was terrible, the lines uneven in depth, with some spots even chipped away.
But it was clear that he had put his heart into it!
"This is Uncle, and this is me." A-Fu pointed at the little figure.
"This is A-Yuan, but I didn't carve her well. She looks like a bun."
A-Yuan heard him from the cart and shouted, "You're the bun!"
A-Fu ignored her and merely looked up at Qin Ming. "Uncle, will we meet again?"
Qin Ming lowered his head and looked at