But Dou Ding, at the front of the group, excitedly held out a basket. He acted like a little adult, spouting polite words even as he shoved the basket right in front of her. "Grandma Wang, you're a truly generous person, so much better than so-and-so from our courtyard who only says nice things but never actually does anything."
Old Mrs. Wang's heart ached as she shook some of the fried food from her enamel jar into the basket. 'He brought a whole basket, so I can't just give him one or two.' She shook out three or five pieces, but against the mouth of the basket, which was even wider than her jar, they looked pathetically few.
She had no choice but to shake out a few more.
Zhu Yun, who had been listening to the commotion, opened her door and peeked her head out, eyeing the jar with a smirk.
Her expression seemed to say it all: 'Oh, come on. Counting out fried meatballs one by one? To bring that level of stinginess to the family courtyard... how embarrassing.'
