The sales manager drank eight of the three-pound Jing Yang Gang at the wine table. He drank it first and ran out of energy, and then opened his eyes and became a three-inch Dingwu Dalang. Pan Jinlian swung the rolling pin to urge him to get up and make pancakes. As soon as he scolded Ximen Qing, Pan Jinlian's face changed and she said, "Why are you mentioning him?" He shrunk his neck and went into the kitchen to knead the dough. Two hours later, he baked a basket of golden and crispy pancakes, wrapped himself in a quilt and carried a load out the door. The cold wind on the street blew into his collar. He wrapped his clothes tightly and looked up in the direction of the Yanggu County government office. Ximen Qing should still be drinking tea in the Yamen at this moment. He looked down at the cooking cakes in his load, and then at the eaves of the county government office in the distance. If this dwarf wanted to save his life, he had to shut Pan Jinlian's mouth first. He weighed his burden and walked towards the street. Let's sell bread today. The days are still long.
