Hu Chunhua and her husband, Yang Minggang, came over with tools.
"Yuanyuan, what are you doing?"
"Aunt, Uncle, you're here. I suddenly thought of the roof. What if there's a heavy snow?"
"I'll get the ladder and take a look. If it's no good, we must reinforce the roof as soon as possible. This is urgent, and the weather looks fine. Who knows when it might snow?"
Yang Minggang put down his tools and turned away.
"Aunt, what do we need to fix the roof?"
"Yellow earth, wheat straw."
"Aunt, we don't have wheat straw at home. Can I use dry grass instead? I've prepared a lot of dry grass."
"I have wheat straw at home. Save the dry grass for the sheep to eat."
Su Yuanyuan didn't hold back. When fleas are many, they don't bite; when debts are many, they don't worry. She knew Hu Chunhua's good intentions and would certainly repay in the future.
Yang Minggang came over carrying a ladder. He climbed up but didn't dare to step onto the roof.
