It was late at night. On Nanshan Hill, there was a yellow light, which was not extinguished until midnight.
Nothing happened overnight.
The next morning, there was crying in the village. Someone had died during the night.
When Wang Yao went down to his house, he heard the news. The specific situation was unknown.
He did not think it was Uncle Yifu. When he saw him the previous night, he did not find any signs of death. Although he was drunk and his organs were damaged, he had not reached the point of crisis.
"Is it Uncle Yifu?" Wang Yao asked.
"No, it is Wang Jianrong, the brother of the village party secretary," Zhang Xiuying said.
"Ah. He didn't look like something was going wrong with him," Wang Yao said. "What happened?"
"They drank together," Wang Fenghua said.
"How do you know?" Wang Yao asked.