The smell of wine and meat wafted from the wall, and Mr. Jia and Zhang's spit flew up and cursed the little bastard. Qin Huairu lowered his head and twisted his clothes and said that five years ago he thought I was poor and married Dongxu, but now he comes to borrow flour. I picked up a piece of braised pork and chewed it slowly and opened the door: Sister-in-law, I don't have any flour, but I can give you a bowl of broth.
