The warm winter sun cast a gentle glow, warming everyone it touched.
In Leng Yuan's courtyard, however, it was unusually quiet.
Unlike the stunned crowd, Xia Qiuming was already grinning from ear to ear.
He stuffed one red envelope after another into Gu Jiaojiao's hands.
For a moment, Gu Jiaojiao wasn't sure if she should keep calling him "Uncle."
In contrast to Gu Jiaojiao's hesitation, the people in the courtyard were simply dumbfounded.
They had never seen anyone give out red envelopes like that before.
The red envelopes were both large and thick.
Even if they were just one-yuan bills, a few of those together had to be over a hundred yuan!
When most villagers gave fifty cents or a yuan, this uncle was handing out over a hundred. And that was just in red envelopes for Gu Jiaojiao—not counting the formal cash gift. It was just too lavish.
The villagers watching from the sidelines were green with envy.
It was nothing complicated; they just resented the wealthy.
