"Dad, Mom, aren't you used to air conditioning?" Wang Xiaoqiang stopped in his tracks and asked.
"Look, old woman, our son knows us best," Wang Kuishan smiled contentedly.
Mother chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Qiangzi, your dad and I were born into lives of poverty. You see, we avoid air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter."
"Mom, you shouldn't say that. Born poor, we can create wealth. You aren't used to air conditioning because you're getting older, that's all. Dad, Mom, go in and sleep peacefully. There'll be a strong breeze tonight," Wang Xiaoqiang smiled.
"Well, alright, Mom believes there'll be a strong breeze tonight. My son has been right since he was little," Mother smiled at her son, saying it with her mouth but not believing it in her heart.
Wang Kuishan looked up at the clear night sky, also not daring to believe his son's words. The weather was clear and sultry, a few clouds were red like fireballs, with no signs of wind or rain.
