Brother Li rolled up his trousers, which were stained with mud, his bronze-toned calf muscles taut as he squatted on the bluestone steps and let out a heavy sigh:
"Ain't that the truth! When my uncle passed away last year, the kids insisted on taking him to the county seat for cremation. That tiny little urn, no bigger than a couple of handspans, cost upwards of eighty yuan."
As he spoke, he used his thumb and forefinger to gesture a small circle, his voice full of heartache.
Chapter 677