Su Moyu and the others didn't know what to say. After looking at each other's eyes, they realized that they still didn't know what to say.
"Just what are you saying?" Tang Thirty-Six stared into Chen Changsheng's eyes.
"I'm going to die. I can probably live for about twenty more days."
Chen Changsheng's voice was very calm, his expression very indifferent. It was like he was speaking about a very ordinary affair.
It's going to rain, mother's going to get married, who is going to take in the clothes on the roof?
The newly added peppers in the jar have already had their holes poked, and don't forget to occasionally add water to the jar's trough, or else white stuff might start growing in the jar, and even the saltiest picked vegetables will have to be thrown out.