Zhou Shuren pulled his wife down to sit, "Of course it's true. The printed books have already been sent to private schools in the capital. The Emperor's idea is to first promote it in the capital before the end of the year and then send it to other states after the New Year."
Zhulan, "I thought we had to wait for the village transformation before it would be promoted."
"Are you happy?"
"I am, indeed."
Zhou Shuren was also pleased. When the Emperor told him in the afternoon, he felt as if the oppressive dark sky had lightened up.
After dinner, the couple talked about education, discussed many things, and Zhulan even took notes. Now that they're old, their memory isn't as sharp, so they jot down what's important.
At bedtime, Zhulan held Shuren's hand, "You're still too thin. Your hands are all dried up."
Zhou Shuren pinched his wife's plump hand, leaving a dent with one squeeze, and fell silent.
Zhulan opened her eyes, "Why aren't you speaking?"
"What should I say?"
