Chen Xiaoer’s father died early, and no one disciplined him, so Daxiao got into the habit of gambling.

This year of Qingming Festival, every family in the village went to their graves, but Chen Xiaoer was unhappy for a few days, and he lost even the money to buy burning paper. So this kid came up with a bad idea. He picked up some old newspapers, went home and cut them out, then went to the field to pick up a few burnt papers that were crushed by others’ graves, packed the cut newspapers, and carried them to the grave.

When he came to his father’s grave, Chen Xiaoer saw that many people in the village were burning paper nearby. He was afraid of being found out, so he wanted to burn the paper quickly. Who knows that the more anxious, the more troublesome it is. The newspaper originally burned without burning paper, and it burned more slowly because of the neat stack. Chen Xiaoer looked at it, not good! The pieces of burning paper on the outside of the bread disappeared at the first ignition, leaving only the stack of newspapers, where black smoke appeared to be untouched.

Chen Xiaoer wanted to find a wooden stick and fiddle with it so that it burned out quickly so that no one would see it. Unexpectedly, he just walked away to look for the wooden stick when a gust of wind blew the stack of newspapers everywhere. It’s broken, all the people who went to the grave nearby have seen it!

Everyone knows that Chen Xiaoer is a good gambler. When he saw him using newspapers to go to the grave, they all laughed: “Xiaoer, why take the newspaper? Come to the grave? Don’t you lose so much that you can’t afford to burn paper?”

Chen Xiaoer’s face was red and white,, but his reaction was fast enough , I immediately made up a reason, and explained in a pretentious way: “That’s it. Last night, my father gave me a dream and said that he had passed away for more than ten years. I don’t know what the outside is like now. When I went to the grave , By the way, burn some newspapers for him to read. He wants to understand.”

As soon as the voice fell, an old man next to him scolded: “Nonsense! When your father was alive, he didn’t write Knowing one, even if he doesn’t even know his name, can he ask for a newspaper in his dream? Are you fooling a ghost!”