Just two days after returning from the vast grasslands, one morning, the heart-wrenching cries of Aunt Wang were heard from next door at Wang Dasheng's house.
Old Huang had died.
The proud ancestral dog of Aunt Wang's family ultimately couldn't escape the hands of meat lovers and was reduced to just a pile of fur.
Neighbors gathered around to watch the spectacle, stifling their laughter, wondering if they'd be beaten up by the Wang family. Zhang Guoqing had just thought there'd been a death in the Wang family, and he rushed out in fright.
Who would have expected such a dramatic twist?
A human life didn't matter much, let alone the death of a dog. This was truly hard to console; you can't exactly tell the Wang family to 'mourn and move on.' Soon, everyone dispersed and headed home.
Old Huang died, but life for the Wang family had to go on. Before noon, a meaty fragrance wafted from next door; it was unclear if it was Old Huang's remains or his rations.
