Everyone was in a rush to take pictures with a dead piece of Deng.
“It seemed an age before seeing you here.” Surprisingly, father spotted us fi rst. “I have circled around Deng Xiaoping a hundred times already.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” mother criticized, leaning over a tree, breathing heavily and defending herself, “We did come at a normal speed, didn’t we? You only competed with yourself. Who let you run that fast?” Taking off her sports hat, wiping off the sweat, she turned to ask Long, “How high is this mountain?”
