Dressed as the miserable cannon fodder in the escape novel, I took out the ancestral incubator with my backhand.
When others chew tree bark, I sell lunch boxes; when others sell their children and girls, I engage in a recharge membership system.
Looking at the army of victims rushing to buy lunch boxes, the county magistrate's daughter became angry: "Untouchable, who allowed you to set up a stall here?"
I calmly pointed to the roadside sign: "Scan the QR code to order, barbarians will not be entertained."
Until a piece of braised pork in my lunch box saved the life of the richest man in Beijing who fainted from hunger...
