Chapter 156: The Year We Climbed High, The Person Who Composed the Poem (5502, Part 1)_3

When I was a child, my father was seriously ill, mostly bedridden, and had difficulty standing up straight when he walked, so this door frame was not made very tall. Yet Li Qidao was a tall man, and I remember he always had to duck his head every time he entered the room.

Right opposite the door was the Wang family's sturdy wooden bed.

It once bore a frail scholar whose eyes, though, were very bright and who loved to smile.

As Wang Anfeng thought about it now, he realized that this arrangement was probably his father's wicked sense of humor, specially designed to tease Li Qidao, making him bow his head to him every time he walked through the door. It seemed in his memory that Li Qidao had even argued with his father over this issue, but had never won, infuriating him to the point his beard bristled.

Wang Anfeng laughed out loud.