"Speaking of Sichuan, this camellia was brought from there," Bai Juyi seemed different from Zhu Shijun, living alone for decades with no one to talk to, now his oil was spent and the lamp dry, he now wanted to talk more, though each word was accompanied by a bloody-tasting thick phlegm bubbling up in his throat.
"Okay, Mr. Bai, I'll listen, take your time," Xiao Xian sat beside the bed.
"Ha ha, good child, don't mind my rambling, she always used to complain about it," Bai Juyi started reminiscing. Every old person has this common ailment, they all like to talk about 'back in the day', but Bai Juyi's 'back in the day' actually had some interesting stories.
From Bai Juyi's narration, Xiao Xian learned that Bai Juyi was from Xiangtan, had lost his father in childhood, followed his mother to Yunnan, and started working in gardening at the age of six, from a soil cultivator, to a pruning master, to later a gardener.
