Old Man was invited, and naturally he gladly went.
Durin turned around to find Mr. Yan, and finally found the old man lying on the floor, drinking wine and eating stir-fried soybeans in the corner of a bookstore.
"Ah, if I had known, I wouldn't have even eaten lunch." Mr. Yan heard that Old Pang was treating, so he quickly sealed the wine, put the soybeans back into the bag and placed it back into the little box he used as a pillow, then bookmarked the half-read book and put it back on the shelf, nodded at the old man behind the counter, and followed Durin out.
"Where is your home?" Durin asked curiously.
"It's nearly seven centuries; the Yan family hasn't been the Yan family I knew for ages. Besides, my mother was a concubine back then, so I had no part in the Yan family, right?" Mr. Yan turned his head to look at Durin. "By the way, how do you folks in the Western Lands handle this issue?"
