"Three years of hard times? Come on." He grinned, took out a fist-sized piece of cooked meat from his backpack, and ate it slowly.
Outside the window, Mrs. Jia Zhang's curses could be faintly heard: "…That desperate Gao Laojia will starve to death sooner or later!"
Gao Laojia chewed the meat, narrowed his eyes, and smiled like a child weighing more than a hundred pounds.
"Go ahead and scold me. If you get tired of scolding, you have to come to me tomorrow to borrow food."
With a thought in his mind, the piece of meat that he had not finished chewing disappeared instantly and returned to his backpack. He picked up the bowl of cold wild vegetable paste on the table and took a swig.
——There was a knock on the door.
"Xiao Gao, are you at home?" It was Qin Huairu's voice, soft and waxy.
Gao Laojia licked the meaty taste from the corner of his mouth, put on a sad expression, stood up and opened the door.
Reader comments
I learned a lot of Taoist skills, but they are almost useless. This is a period article covered in the skin of a courtyard. I feel that this is what that era should be like. They don't care about the truth or falsehood, they only care about whether what you say is what they want. If someone wants to climb up, they must step on others.
I learned a lot of Taoist skills, but they are almost useless. This is a period article covered in the skin of a courtyard. I feel that this is what that era should be like. They don't care about the truth or falsehood, they only care about whether what you say is what they want. If someone wants to climb up, they must step on others.