Liu Xinyu chuckled to himself, as though he took Fan Qishan's assessment as a compliment.
"When the three of us were little, we all loved listening to Grandpa's stories. About the ways of the world, extraordinary people, and sometimes even superstitions."
"My favorite was listening to him size up the customers coming and going, or the people walking down the street."
"Grandpa had a sharp eye. He'd point at a customer who'd just left and tell us, 'Look at his back, those drooping shoulders, those dragging heels. He definitely lost money today. His wife will give him an earful when he gets home tonight.'"
"'Look at that one, strutting along with his nose in the air. He probably made a tidy sum. He'll definitely head to the best restaurant in town in a bit.'"
"Whoever had a sharp face and pinched cheeks was full of schemes. Whoever had a full forehead would enjoy good fortune later in life. Who was happy that day, and who was looking glum."
"He'd say that so-and-so had ordered extra beef offal today. For a cheapskate like him to buy himself extra meat, he must have made a killing."
"Qingyu and I loved listening to that. It was like listening to a storyteller. Grandpa was almost always right."
"Qishan was different."
Liu Xinyu glanced at Fan Qishan.
"He simply liked listening to Grandpa's stories. He loved the beef offal Grandpa cooked. Bowl after bowl, as though he could never get enough."
Wang Xiaoliang looked at Fan Qishan.
He was using tea tongs to slowly scald a small teacup in boiling water, over and over. He was utterly focused, as though everything around him had nothing to do with him.
Liu Xinyu continued, "Then we started school. Grandpa never took us or picked us up. He