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217 It Really Comes

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    "Third Uncle, you should rest. I'm young, and I'm fine if I don't sleep for a few days. I can bear it." Naturally, I couldn't bear to let my elderly uncle stay up all night to keep watch for me, so I said.

    "I've already slept in the middle of the night. This is not a matter of a day or two. How can my body be able to bear it if I don't rest all day long? Your father's business is now indispensable to you. Go to sleep?"

    After I heard my third uncle say that he had already slept, I paid special attention to it.  Seeing his sleepy and red eyes, I can tell that the third uncle has just woken up from his sleep, as he himself said.  So, after I mentioned a few things that need special attention, I went to the second floor to rest.

    Although I went to bed very late, I got up early the next morning.  After washing up as quickly as possible, the first thing I thought of was to deliver breakfast to my father.  Yesterday's lesson was profound, so I have specially instructed and instructed the cooks: whether it is porridge in the morning or rice at noon, you must definitely leave the first bowl of the pot to your father.  Those who came to help me were all rural women over 40 years old. Most of them had heard of many strange customs in funeral affairs, so they would not blame me in the slightest for my solemn exhortations, but would also reveal them inadvertently.  The color of appreciation.  The women are very cooperative. This morning, before I deliver the meal, they will never allow anyone to open the pot for porridge.

    Because I thought of and delivered the first bowl of porridge for the first time, I didn't feel any headache this morning.  If my headaches were really caused by my father, then I'd rather have them again.  Because, while I don't like the feeling of a headache, if it's a sign of my father's spiritual connection to me, that's another story.  Now that I think about it, when my father was around, that rather dignified reprimand seemed especially cordial.  It's a pity that now, it has become a luxury to let his father yell at him because of his dissatisfaction.  Thinking of this, I just felt my heart ache violently.

    Compared with the colic in my heart, yesterday's headache looks cute.  Of course, I don't want to be sloppy with food delivery just because I want a headache.  Regardless of whether this food delivery can really play its due role, at least I will use my seriousness and caution to express my infinite nostalgia for my father.  Perhaps, the traditional method of paying homage to ancestors has more or less the shadow of feudal superstition in it.  However, I think that no matter how determined atheists are, there is no need to reject it too much. After all, if it is not through such a method, then over time, we are likely to gradually forget our ancestors and become a person who forgets our ancestors and forgets our ancestors.  Zong's people who are cast aside by the world.

    After delivering the meal, I stayed by my father's side every step of the way.  Whenever someone comes to pay homage, I must bow down immediately.  I don't want to lose my courtesy.  Of course, I am always paying attention to the movement on the side of the road.  I think, this morning, colleagues from our unit should arrive.

    I was looking forward to it like yesterday, and finally, I received a call from my colleague.  It turned out that he asked how my house got there.  I first asked where they are now.  According to the characteristics of the bridge he described, I knew that the road ahead was quite easy.

    The concrete road in front of my house is the main road of our village.  With the construction of the new countryside, not only the vast majority of households can be connected to cement roads, but also some road sections have hit street lights.  The so-called today is different from the past, and now street lights are no longer the patent of the city.  Of course, there is still a big gap between rural areas and cities, so it is impossible to achieve full coverage of street lights like cities.  In our village, street lights are only installed on this section of the avenue in front of the village committee.  About two or three kilometers long.

    Why do you say that the road ahead is quite easy?  That's because when my colleagues called, it happened to be the period when the street lights began to appear.  So, I simply reminded: "You ask the driver to go west along the street light. No more than two kilometers, when you see the one with a canopy at the west entrance of the road"

    Another person came, so I hung up the phone without further explanation, and hurriedly received and bowed down.

    I reckoned that in only two or three minutes, colleagues from the unit should arrive.  Therefore, I told my cousin to recruit people to make tea and wait.  My colleagues will also be like my sister's colleagues, after a simple memorial service, they will go home.  If you wait for them to come and then make tea, the water temperature will be too high to drink, so I thought of getting someone to pour it down to cool it down first.

    Five minutes have passed, and I still haven't seen my colleagues.  When I was a little confused, the phone rang again.  It turned out that it was because of a fork, so I called again to ask for the correct path.  Why would it go fork?  This is also related to my failure to clarify some details in a hurry.  From the other side of the bridge to my house, it is indeed mainly all the way west.  But there are also two small bends to the north, the longest will not exceed 100 meters, and then turn around and go west.  The reason why I didn't say that is because I emphasized in advance that I should follow the street lights. If I don't turn, I won't see the street lights again.  After figuring this out, I quickly explained it to my colleagues.  However, the colleague was afraid of making mistakes again, and the top leader of the unit was still sitting in the car, so he asked me to go over and pick it up.  They came to pay homage to my father. Although I was very busy at the time, I couldn't refuse such a request.

    It didn't take long to pick them up, so I didn't change my clothes in sackcloth and mourning.  So, the old man told me: "When you are dressed like this, you must never go into other people's homes, you know?" This is also one of the customs here. Wearing hemp and mourning is for the dead.  "Death" is an unlucky thing. Therefore, the local people will taboo people in hemp and filial piety to enter the door, otherwise it will bring bad luck or even disaster to the family.  I promised, and drove away.

    Under my guidance, the minibus carrying my colleagues came to my house smoothly.  In addition to bowing down, I also accompanied them all the way.  After all, these are my colleagues.  Of course, according to the customs here, colleagues come here not only to worship, but also to bring gift money.  What the top leader gave out was gift money from the guild representing the unit, while others gave gift money in their own names.  The gift money between colleagues is a symbolic one hundred yuan.  This is a routine, I did not refuse, and accepted the envelopes with names on them one by one.  In fact, my sister's colleagues also came with gift money, but those envelopes were received by my sister.  According to the amount of gift money given by others, we will also give the same amount of gift money when they have something to do.  This is the so-called "reciprocity".  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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