Old man Li doesn’t like to deal with people in the village on weekdays. Now that people have left, no one in the village has come.

White white paper hung at the gate of the old house, and was tangled together by the wind.

Fu Yan boiled hot water and brought it out to Chen Chu: "It's windy here."

Chen Chu has been standing at the door for a long time. The weather is not very good today. It is gloomy when I wake up in the morning. It is almost noon until now, and it is also gloomy.

Chen Chu took the cup and looked back at Fu Yan: "I said, "Old Man Li's personality is gone, and there are not many people who come to see him off."

She held the water cup and turned around and walked back.

The door is not closed, it is just open so that people can come in.

But when everyone saw the blank paper inserted in the door, they understood what was going on. They were not very familiar with each other on weekdays, and no one wanted to come forward to get into this bad luck. They all went home to close their doors.

Chen Chu had just walked to the door of the hall and saw the oil-paper umbrella leaning against the corner of the wall. She remembered that it was raining a few months ago, and Old Man Li handed her such an umbrella.

The wind and rain were heavy that day, and the rain came from all directions. The umbrella could not stop the rain at all. She complained in disgust that Old Man Li was not good at craftsmanship. He was so angry that he hummed and said that she didn't know how to appreciate it.

Chen Chu looked at it calmly for a few seconds before retracting his gaze. He looked up at the wooden coffin, tightened his hand holding the cup, then raised his legs and stepped over the threshold and walked into Old Man Li's room.

This was the second time she had entered Old Man Li's room. Although Old Man Li was eating roughly, he was an old man with a vigilance. The room was clean and neat.

The pear blossom recliner has been around for a long time, but it has been well maintained.

There were not many things in the room, and the shelves were filled with Old Man Li’s calligraphy and paintings, and his tea leaves were placed at the bottom.

Near the window is a desk. There is a brush holder on the right side of the desk, and a large stack of rice paper is placed next to it.

Old Man Li has no hobbies on weekdays. He either fishes, drinks tea or practices calligraphy. When it rained, he would write calligraphy in his room.

Chen Chu had seen his calligraphy, which was unexpectedly beautiful. She also joked that if Old Man Li wanted to go out and sold calligraphy and paintings, he could make a lot of money.

Thinking of this, Chen Chu couldn't help but walk over, wanting to sort out his calligraphy and paintings and take them away at that time.

Picking up rice paper, a note suddenly fell aside. Fu Yan leaned over and picked it up and handed it to her.

The note was just the size of her thumb, and only a string of numbers was written on it.

That was her phone number. She left it to him on the day she left in August, but he didn't want it, saying that the two met by chance and no longer needed to contact him.

That day he threw the note aside in front of her, but he didn't expect that the note that should have been thrown away now appears here.

Chen Chu pursed his lips and tore the note, but no one needed it anyway.

She tore the note and threw it into the trash can aside, and glanced at Fu Yan: "When I arrived at the hospital that night, Old Man Li said his last words, and I don't know if he left anything else."

Fu Yan helped her fold the copybooks, all of which were poems and nothing special.

It took nearly half an hour for the two to sort out Old Man Li's calligraphy and paintings. The desk with rice paper was cleaned, leaving only a brush and an inkstone.
Chapter completed!