On the third day after I, Yu Qianqian, traveled through time, the morning sickness reaction left by the original owner reminded me: This is not a game. Four years later, in the cellar of Yixiang Building, I lit an oil candle and taught Bao'er arithmetic. 'Mom, why do we live underground? ' He asked with his little face raised. I fiddled with the abacus and said calmly: 'Because the accounts on earth are sometimes unclear about people's lives. ' Until that day, a 'Master Qi' wearing half a silver mask walked into the restaurant, with a jade pendant with a dragon pattern on his waist - the abacus in my hand snapped and broke.
