Mr. Zhuang slowly returned to his senses, looked at him, and asked, "Who found you?"
Yao Ge shook his head, "A merchant who happened to come to our place. At first, he mentioned you, and I had no reaction. Later, he approached Chen'er, and seeing that neither of us responded, he took out money, hoping we would come to the capital."
He said, "With such a clear purpose, his identity certainly cannot be genuine."
Mr. Zhuang frowned, "What's his name?"
"Wan Dong, supposedly a person from Luozhou, but from his accent, he seemed more like someone from the capital."
"What was his purpose?"
"To bring up the old affair, claiming that the poems and essays were Chen Fulin's."
Mr. Zhuang smiled, "Unexpectedly, after almost thirty years, this matter is brought up again, circling back to the original point."
Yao Ge said nothing.
Mr. Zhuang sighed, stood up, and said, "I understand, I will be cautious."
