The drying ground was bustling, with villagers gathered in groups of three or five.
In contrast to the performances, the stage itself became a hot topic of conversation.
But the most ostentatious wasn't Li Hao, but Old Li.
"See, my son made money but didn't forget his roots, and he even hired an opera troupe for the villagers to enjoy. You all know Er Yuehong, right? He's a star in high demand now, not just anyone can afford to hire him. If it wasn't out of respect for my son, how would he end up in this remote little village? This is what truly capable people do, unlike some who only know how to take credit for others' achievements. Going to college was a waste for them."
Old Li, with his hands behind his back, walked around the onlookers with a face full of pride.
With his critiquing no-names attitude, he was just short of naming Lin Yifan.
