When I woke up, I was transformed into the unlucky cannon fodder whose house was ransacked in a period novel. Looking at the empty courtyard and the crying siblings, I gritted my teeth and took out the half pack of spicy strips left in my pocket. The neighbor's aunt was stunned after tasting it: "What the hell is this? How exciting!" I set up a stall at the entrance of the alley, and the chili oil sizzled and the aroma filled the whole street. I made ten yuan on the first day and fifty yuan on the second day. In the early morning of the seventh day, someone suddenly banged on the door: "Police! Someone reported you for speculation!" I squeezed the crumpled five hundred yuan in my hand, but I saw the person making a secret gesture: "Comrade, can this thing of yours... Be mass-produced?"
It's great. The male lead is finally offline.