The old man propped himself up from the ground slowly and picked up a gray, sweat-stained towel from the stool beside him. He met them with a mixture of reproach and concern: "Didn't I tell you not to come again This old man is almost buried up to his neck in earth. How much can he eat, how much can he wear If you have that money, save it and find a wife for me and settle down...",After securing the food, he went into the kitchen as if he knew it by heart and pulled out an old, rusty hand sickle. Ignoring the old man's repeated pleas of "Don't worry about it" and "Take a break first," he left in strides, pushing his tricycle.,He happened to sit next to a tattered fishing net.。