Wang Zhenguo, who was not far from seventy, and Lu Jiang's father stood outside the crowd, looking spirited and rosy-cheeked.
These years, they hadn't suffered hardships, their food and clothing were decent, making the two elderly stand straight, with keen senses. If not for their white hair and brows, they looked no different from ten years ago.
"Brick and tile houses are indeed better than mud houses. The single-story house looks more imposing, neat and square with edges and corners. My three sons are quite moved by it, wanting to build a few single-story houses themselves, or at least three brick and tile houses with east and west wing rooms. Grandchildren are already at the age for marriage; we can't have the whole family cramped in those three low and narrow mud houses," Wang Zhenguo said.
His three sons had given him several grandchildren over the years, totaling over a dozen. The eldest had five children, the second six, and the third five.
