"Old Man Zhou has passed away; he was just buried not long ago."
Not only was National Day incredulous, but even Mother Zhang and Mr. Zhang, who had just returned from visiting Sister Zhang, suspiciously eyed their second son, Zhang Guoqiang.
"The old man loved money so much, and yet he died because of it. They say it was on a dark and stormy night, when the sky was pouring rain..."
Mr. Zhang tapped Zhang the Second's head with a long pipe, "Get to the point."
"Good hit, did you think you were storytelling?"
