About This Novel
Two yuan a pound, the top flower has thorns. Raise your index and middle fingers, like the open mouth of a green duck afraid of heat, stay in the air for a few seconds, drop it, touch it, pick up one of them or a handful, show it off, and a green light flashes. Huang Laoke's habitual presentation of dishes can really make people stop and stare at them for a few seconds. That's a cucumber. Picking it up with both hands, there is only a small handful, not necessarily so green and fresh. Huang Laoke crossed his two sore old legs as if to protect his treasure and sat motionless.
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