Chapter 16 016: The witch falls in love with the angel on earth

It rained in the afternoon, the sky was very humid, cloudless, and very blue. Before six o'clock, the sun's tail began to penetrate the horizon.

Jing Hedong had to go home to cook for his wife and closed the stall early. He called Jing Zhao: "Has the takeout been delivered?"

"Well, go back now."

Jing Hedong pushed his electric tricycle: "No need to come over to my place, I have already closed the stall, you can go home directly."

Jing Zhao responded and waited for Jing Hedong to hang up first.

It started to get dark, and pedestrians on the road became hurried. Jing Zhao pulled over, got out of the car, and walked to the opposite side of the road.

There was an old lady selling sweet potatoes on the roadside. She sat on the ground with newspapers as a cushion. The basket was very full, but the sweet potatoes were not sold very much.

People in big cities don’t seem to like eating very much.

"Grandma," the autumn wind was a bit bleak and Jing Zhao's voice was gentle, "I'm here to buy sweet potatoes."

Grandma's eyesight was not very good, so she looked at him several times before she recognized him: "It's you."

This young man often comes here to buy sweet potatoes.

Grandma chatted with him: "You haven't been here for a while. Are you very busy at work recently?"

Jing recalled: "I went out of town last week."

The dusk fell, and the wind smoothed the wrinkles at the corners of the old man's eyes.

Grandma put her hands on the ground and stood up awkwardly: "How much do you want?"

"All of these are needed."

Grandma would pick two baskets of sweet potatoes to sell every day. When she was lucky, she could sell more than half of them. Her price was very low, and two baskets only cost a few dozen yuan.

They are all packed in plastic bags, and they are all used.

Grandma picked out the two biggest ones and asked, "Why do you buy so many of them every time?"

Jing Zhao stood on the side of the road, hunched over and talking to the old man: "My family likes to eat."

Grandma rubbed the soil off the sweet potatoes and put them into the bag one by one: "These are newly dug. They will become sweeter if you keep them for a few days."

He should: "Yeah."

While pretending, grandma asked: "What do you do?"

He put it more plainly: "People who take pictures of people sometimes also take pictures of mountains and water."

"Let's take pictures." Grandma smiled, even though she had lost many teeth, "People nowadays love to take pictures, unlike people of our generation, where we live in the countryside and everyone is poor. We only take pictures once in a lifetime."

Grandma packed the sweet potatoes and hung the handle of the bag on the scale beam. It was an old-fashioned scale beam that had to be lifted up to weigh it with a weight.

The basket of sweet potatoes weighed more than ten kilograms, and it was difficult for grandma to lift it.

Jing Zhao knelt down and said, "I'll lift it, and you can watch and weigh it."

Grandma gave him the title with a smile and taught him how to identify it.

Grandma’s Mandarin was not very standard, so Jing Zhao didn’t really understand her.

When we talked about taking pictures again, grandma sighed: "At my age, it's time for me to take pictures."

At this age, it’s time to take a posthumous photo.

Elderly people in many places are like this. They only take photos once in a lifetime, just when they feel they are about to say goodbye to their loved ones.

If the photo was taken when applying for an ID card, it is possible that it will not be taken again, or it may be too late to take another photo. When you pass away, you will need to extract your pre-birth appearance from the ID card.

If you tell them that there is a profession called photographer, they will not understand it.

The two big bags couldn't fit it, so the remaining grandmothers packed it in small bags. The small bag was not oversized and was given to Jing Zhao together.

He put the bag on the ground: "How much does it cost?"

Thirty-three dollars and fifty cents.

Grandma said: "Thirty yuan."

Jing Zhao only had one hundred yuan in banknotes.

Grandma’s money was packed in plastic bags, one bag inside another bag, several layers inside. When the bag was opened, the money inside was wrapped in cloth. There was not much change, not enough change.

There is a convenience store still open on the roadside, and there is a vegetable market just a few steps away.

"I'll change the change." Grandma was worried and left the basket behind, planning to take it with her.

Jing Zhao said: "Let's look for him next time."

The reflection in the dusk, I don’t know why, is always a bit desolate.

The wind doesn't pick on anyone, it blows on everyone, turning the old man's face red, bending his back, and making his eyes vicissitudes of life.

Grandma asked him: "Where are you taking pictures? Is there a store?"

"There is a store." He spoke very slowly, "It's in the north of Shatang, Hongliu Lane."

Grandma stuffed the money into a bag full of sweet potatoes: "Then don't give me this money. Next time I will go to your store to take pictures."

She was almost eighty, and it was time for her funeral photos to be taken. She must wear newly made clothes that day and tidy herself up.

Jing Zhao agreed: "Okay, I'll take the photo for you."

The wind was so strong that grandma wiped the corners of her eyes and went to clean up the stall on her back. There were not many things, just two baskets, a pole, a few newspapers, and a bag of old plastic bags.

When Jing Zhao was helping, he put the banknotes under the basket.

"I forgot to ask." Grandma picked up the pole, "Is it expensive for you to take pictures?"

The young man with the setting sun at his back smiled, his eyes were hot, filled with fireworks on earth and the stars in the fireworks.

"It's not expensive. These sweet potatoes are enough."

He has no standard for charging for taking photos. Sometimes he charges a sky-high price, and sometimes he only needs two bags of sweet potatoes.

"Thanks to you, I can close the stall early today."

Grandma waved her hand and walked into the dusk carrying an empty basket. On the busy street, hurried passers-by quickened their pace, and the old man with inconvenient legs and feet staggered.

In the distance, the neon lights suddenly lit up, it was time to go home.

Jing Zhao walked to the car, took out his camera, and took a picture of the setting sun and the old man who was already dying.

*****

There is a Hello Kitty wall clock hanging on the wall, and the hour hand reaches the number six.

Ms. Lu Changan, who was playing a dress-up game, heard the door opening and immediately dropped her tablet and ran to the entrance.

It's her eldest baby who's back.

"Zhao Bao, you are back."

Jing Zhao came in carrying two bags of things.

"Why are you carrying so many things?" Ms. Lu opened the bag and looked at it, "What is this?"

"sweet potato."

The big baby came into the house. Ms. Lu was wearing floral slippers and followed in small steps: "Are you buying sweet potatoes again?"

Her Zhaobao also bought several times last week.

He said: "It's quite sweet."

Ms. Lu was surprised: "You like to eat?"

"Um."

Jing Zhao took the sweet potatoes to the kitchen and opened the cabinet. The ones he bought last time were not finished yet.

Jing Hedong was cooking, and the smell of fireworks was very strong in the kitchen.

Jing Zhao put the sweet potatoes in the cupboard: "If you can't finish them, you can share them with the tenants."

Ms. Lu: "Oh."

He washed his hands and came out of the kitchen: "I'm going upstairs first."

"It's time to have dinner soon."

"I'm going to deliver something and I'll be back."

He went out again.

Ms. Lu ran to the kitchen. The chili pepper was a bit choking. She pinched her nose and said, "Husband, how come our Zhaobao likes sweet potatoes?"

Jing Hedong was making fried pork with chili pepper, and he was shaking the pot very much: "What's wrong with the sweet potatoes?"

"You're stupid. After Zhao Bao lost his sense of smell, he couldn't taste good things. I didn't even hear him say what he likes to eat."

Jing Zhao was injured when he was nineteen years old, and he has been unable to smell since then. Although smell and taste are separate, human taste buds can only distinguish between sour, sweet, bitter, salty and fresh. Once the sense of smell is lost, it will affect the sense of taste.

I can't tell the difference and can't taste the fine flavor at all.
To be continued...