"Boss, do you still have sweet fermented rice balls?" Yuan Ming asked the plain-clothed woman.
"Yes, yes, please have a seat, sir. Dazhu, one bowl of sweet fermented rice balls!" The woman nodded her head, turned, and lifted the curtain to shout an order to the kitchen.
Soon, a middle-aged man around thirty brought out a bowl of steaming rice balls.
As he put down the bowl and was about to leave, Yuan Ming called out to him.
"Li Dazhu, where's your father?"
"You know my dad?" Li Dazhu turned, surprised to see Yuan Ming's youthful appearance.
"I used to eat his fermented rice balls a lot when I was young. I never imagined that the little stall from back then has now become a shop. How is he doing nowadays?" Yuan Ming said with a smile.
"Thank you for asking, my dad passed away two years ago." Li Dazhu's expression darkened.
Yuan Ming was stunned, "Passed away? Two years ago, was he over seventy?"
