Chapter 146: see also stinky amaranth pole
Ye Qingqing certainly didn't think Ye Zhiguo was confused. Like the old lady, she felt that Ye Zhiguo was dizzy because of Shen Yanhong's fascination, so she was kind to Ye Lan's sister and brother who were not related by blood.
But after a painful past life and seeing the document in the safe, Ye Qingqing saw things more objectively, and she even doubted her own life experience.
If...she and Ye Zhiguo are not related by blood...
When this idea first came up, Ye Qingqing was frightened by her bold idea, but after she calmed down, the more she thought about it, the more she felt it was possible.
If Ye Zhiguo is not her biological father, and she has huge wealth, then... all the doubts in the previous life can be explained.
But Ye Qingqing didn't want to believe such speculation. She didn't want Ye Zhiguo's love for her to be a show. Every time she thought about it, Ye Qingqing's heart... would not stop shivering.
shudder.
But no matter what, Ye Tong is definitely her younger brother, there is no doubt about that.
She will also protect Xiaotong all her life and will never let anyone bully Xiaotong.
Ye Qingqing recovered from her chaotic thoughts. Seeing that the old lady was still swearing at people, she didn't stop her hands. She took out the things in the basket and placed them side by side on the table.
"This is last year's dried plum vegetables. Your father (some villages in Jiangsu and Zhejiang call his father "father") like to eat. When he was studying, he steamed a bowl of dried plum vegetables, put some sugar, and added a few drops of lard. Your father Can eat for half a month..."
The old lady is getting old, and she likes to talk about the past with others, especially Ye Zhiguo when she was a child.
Because Ye Zhiguo is her proudest son, among the three sons, the second and the third are ordinary farmers, with their faces facing the loess and their backs to the sky, and suffering. Only Ye Zhiguo not only became a soldier, but also became a glorious working class. Living in a garden house that the landlord has never lived in...
These have become the capital for the old lady to show off in the village. Every day, she will sit under the big camphor tree in front of the village, pull a group of people to brag and fart, and listen to the envy and jealousy of a group of people. Only the vanity of the old lady can be satisfied.
Year after year, day after day, the boring old lady relies on this to live every day!
But Ye Zhiguo in the village is indeed a model of successful people who all the villagers envy and envy. Every time he returns to his hometown during the New Year, the scenery is glorious... The style of returning home is more beautiful than the county magistrate returning to his hometown.
The old lady took out another small jar and opened the lid. The familiar stench came out. Ye Qingqing hurriedly covered her nose.
What the hell... Damn stinky amaranth pole!
She forgot about it.
The old lady likes to eat this stinky thing more than Ye Zhiguo. She can eat three meals a day, but her body is still so strong. When she died in the previous life, the old lady was alive and well.
Those experts said that eating pickled food is not good for the health, it will cause cancer or something... The old lady is not very good at all. The old lady loves pickles all her life and eats it every meal, and her body is still very strong.
"Your father likes to eat amaranth sticks the most. In the past, there were few amaranths. I used old green cabbage sticks to pickle them, and they were still very fresh. Your father only needs a piece of vegetable sticks for lunch, and he can eat a large bowl of rice..."
The old lady started to talk about ancient times again. She was talking about Ye Zhiguo’s previous school days. Ye Zhiguo didn’t graduate from junior high school. He joined the army at the age of 18. After that, his life was not only in the army but also in the factory. That’s why the old lady knew about the eldest son. , and only limited to before the age of eighteen, the latter know nothing.
