Liu Zhanggui, with a pleased expression, helped Yang Ge up and patted his shoulder, saying with a smile: "People who have read books really know how to speak eloquently. Unlike Wang Dali, that rough fellow, who only knows how to say 'You are just like my father!'”,Yang Ge pushed his tricycle, following the flow of people out of the county.,Yang Ge ignored the old man's sorrowful eyes. With nimble hands and feet, he carried one heavy sack after another into the low-ceilinged hut. He untied the sack mouths and poured grain by grain of golden wheat kernels into the food barrel.。