Once those people had completely fled far away, Song Yuanbao stopped his fake cries and laughed heartily, clutching his stomach, "Hahaha, I'm dying of laughter, a bunch of ignorant fools!"
Wen Wan lit an oil lamp and hung it on a branch, using the light to weave vines into a long rope.
Song Yuanbao asked her, "Mom, what are you doing?"
Wen Wan pointed to the baskets and tools like shovels outside.
Song Yuanbao immediately understood, and said nonchalantly, "These are brought by the grandchildren as gifts, we should take advantage of it; once we drag them back, we'll sell them to Second Grandpa at the east end of the village, lower the price a bit, and still get a few copper coins to spend."
Wen Wan glared at him: Why are you insulting people?
Song Yuanbao muttered, "Mom heard it too, they voluntarily called me 'little ancestor'."
Wen Wan still disapproved, frowned, and told him not to speak like this again.
