“But....” I tried to ask him if he knew he could always ask someone in the supermarket. But I knew he wouldn’t do that, because he would lose face, a face of a country man like no other men.
“But what?” He looked as if annoyed by my sudden interruption, commanding, “Eat your noodles and listen!”
The tone in his voice was unfamiliar. I couldn’t distinguish between his stubbornness and his anger. Sensing the smell of gunpowder, I became alert and let him talk.