In the fifteenth year of Jian'an, Zhou Langxing from Jiangdong fell into Baqiu. When he opened his eyes again, dazzling white light replaced the candlelight of the military tent. Amidst the smell of disinfectant, he stared at the unfamiliar short-haired self in the mirror. Until I caught a glimpse of the work sign at the end of the bed - "Meituan Rider Zhou Yu". The Grand Governor held the flimsy card and was silent for a long time. The storm of Jiangdong cannot defeat a bad review; the sea of fire in Chibi cannot burn the takeout boxes in this world.
