Chapter 935: Sauce Bones

Tang Zhaozong gathered the masters of the rivers and lakes of Jinling City, and he asked Empress He to prepare fat cow hot pot, little fat sheep hot pot, and sauce bones for them, and served them with large cloves of garlic.

Those masters were very proud, they ate with their mouths full of oil, and they were very proud of such a delicious taste.

After all, no one in this world is uncomfortable with a free meal.

After all, people like them are the lowest level of society, and now they can eat delicious hot pot and sauce bones, and they are naturally very happy.

In addition, that Tang Zhaozong's rice tube is full, and the rice he made with those fresh rice has a strong taste, which is much better than those cheap aged rice.

Those people in Jinling City, because of their small life, they are naturally very proud.

At this time, there was a sudden noise outside.

They stared at the people outside, and those people looked at Tang Zhangwei and them.

These people are very vigilant, they are afraid of accidents.

"So you don't give him anything anymore, so you plan to give him nothing?" The old man was terrified; I think he's ready to give up his offer at this point, so that I can give his son something too. This old man is a good-hearted man! I assured him that I would be happy to give something, but I didn't want to take away his pleasure. "If your son is satisfied," I added, "if you are pleased, then I will be happy, for I will feel in my heart as if I had actually given it to me." The old man was completely relieved when he heard this. He stayed with us for another two hours, but he could not sit still in one place, he always stood up, shouted and made noise, played with Sasha, kissed me secretly, squeezed my hand, and quietly grimaced at Anna Fedorovna. In the end, Anna Fedorovna kicked him out of the house. In short, the old man was so happy, perhaps he had never been so happy.

On that solemn day, at eleven o'clock sharp, he came straight after praying, wearing a well-woven tuxedo, and really wearing a new waistcoat and new boots. He carried two bundles of books in his arms. We were all sitting in Anna Fedorovna's living room drinking coffee (it was Sunday). The old man begins with the fact that Pushkin was a very good poet, and then, bewildered and flustered, he suddenly talks about the need for a person to be of good character, and if he is not of good character, then he will be nonsense, and he says that bad habits can destroy people and ruin their reputations, and even give a few examples of drunken deaths, and finally conclude by saying that he has completely reformed himself during this period, and that his current behavior is good enough to be exemplary. He said that he had felt that his son's advice was correct before, and that he had long felt it and remembered it all, but now he had quit drinking in practice. The fact that he used the money he had saved over a long period of time to buy books for his son can be used as proof.

As I heard the poor old man say these words, I could not help crying and laughing; Yes, when necessary, he can tell a lie! The books were moved to Pokrovsky's house and placed on the shelves. Pokrovsky immediately guessed the truth. The old man was invited to stay for lunch. We were all so happy on this day. After lunch, we played a game of lottery and played cards. Sasha is bouncing around, and I'm no worse than her. Pokrovsky was very attentive to me, always trying to find a chance to talk to me alone, but I always avoided him. It was the happiest day I've had in four years.

And now that there are sad, painful memories left, I'm going to start telling the story of my bad days. Perhaps it was for this reason that my pen moved slowly, as if I would not write any more. Perhaps it is for this reason that I am so fascinated and so enthusiastic in recalling the smallest details of my small life in my happy days. Such days are so short; Then came the sorrow that only God knows when it would end, a deep sorrow.

My misfortune began with Pokrovsky's illness and death.

Two months after the last incident I described above, he became ill. During these two months he worked tirelessly to earn a living, for until this time he had no fixed position. Like all people suffering from tuberculosis, he did not give up hope until the last moment that he would live a long time. He could only get a position as a teacher somewhere, but he hated it. Because of his poor health, he could not work in the public service. Besides, working in the agency, he had to wait a long time to get his first salary. In short, Pokrovsky hit a wall everywhere, and his temper went bad. His body collapsed, and he didn't care. Autumn has arrived. Every day, he only wore a thin coat and went out to seek work, beg people, and tell people, which made him very painful in his heart. He used to get his feet wet, his clothes soaked through the rain, and at last he was confined to bed and never got up again...... In late autumn, at the end of October, he died.

I barely left his house throughout his illness, and I cared for him and ministered to him. I often stayed up all night. He seldom had a moment of saneness, and he often talked nonsense, and only God knew what he said, and he spoke of his position, and of his books, and of me, and of his father...... At times like these, I heard a lot about him that I didn't know before, or even guessed it wouldn't have been. At the time of his first illness, all of us here looked at me a little strangely, and Anna Fedorovna shook her head. But when I stared straight into their faces, they stopped blaming me for my sympathy for Pokrovsky, at least my mother didn't blame me.

Sometimes Pokrovsky recognized me, but rarely. He was almost always delirious. Sometimes he spoke to someone all night long and all night in vague and incomprehensible words, for a long, long time, and his hoarse voice echoed dullly in his small room, as in a coffin, and I felt terrified at such times. Especially on the last night he felt like he had gone mad; He was in great pain, very sad, and his moans tore my heart apart. All the people in this house were a little panicked. Anna Fedorovna always prayed to God to take him away quickly. A doctor was called. The doctor said that the patient must die tomorrow morning.

(End of chapter)