Perhaps the Qin family thought he wouldn't live long, so even when burning him at his death, they wouldn't use much firewood.,Regardless of whether he was calling to himself, Zhao Jin'er still walked over to the small table in three steps and two strides, poured a bowl of hot tea for him, and held it out.,I wouldn't dare to touch that plate of bright red celebratory eggs. At my uncle's house, eggs are precious; only my cousin Zhuzi is allowed to eat them.。