Open next month
Copywriting：
*Wen Yongren is very addicted to cooking.
I always look forward to the huge kitchen in the high-end community opposite through the old and small window.
Unexpectedly, the opportunity to go to the other side to cook with a salary fell from the sky.
The introducer also revealed: the employer is a super handsome guy.
I don't have a job right now, so it would be nice to earn some pocket money.
Wen Yong happily agreed.
The person who introduced him hesitated to explain: The handsome guy was mysophobic and picky, and he asked not to meet me in person, and he only wanted people over 50 years old.
Wen Yong: Why didn't you tell me earlier?
Introducer: There's no camera anyway, just don't let him find out.
Wen Yong: Is this possible?
Spurred on, she bit the bullet and added her employer's WeChat account.
*Employer: Try the dishes first.
Wen Yong made his best braised chicken nuggets, packed them in the refrigerator as required, and went home to wait for news.
Half a day later, the employer sent a picture.
Click on it, it's blank.
Zoom in and zoom in again, a piece of... Chicken feather with a diameter of about 0.5 Mm?
Wen Yong took a breath: What kind of eyesight is this.
She chewed the cap of her pen and thought about it, she had to explain it. She took out her grandma's reading glasses, took a photo and sent it.
[Boss, give me another chance. ]
The top bar of the dialog box: The other party is typing... It flashes, goes off, and flashes again.
Wen Yong's eyes lit up: There's something going on, so he neatly changed his avatar to a blooming peony.
Opposite: Let me think about it.
She took advantage of the victory and said, "Don't you think what I cook tastes like mother's?"
For a long time——
[Aunt Wen, please prepare the dishes I want on time at eleven o'clock tomorrow. ]
*One day, Wen Yong noticed that a date was circled on the desk calendar. She guessed it was his birthday, so she couldn't help herself and gave him a white shirt.
After putting down the gifts and leaving the community, I realized that I had left my keys.
What's even worse is that the Laboo on the keychain has nothing to do with her "Aunt Wen" persona.
She turned around and ran back, her fingertips just pressed on the combination lock.
A nice voice came from inside: "Wen Yong?"
The man opened the door, with straight shoulders and clear eyebrows. He was wearing the white shirt, with only the top button on the collar, and the line of his chest disappeared into the fabric.
And that look didn't look like looking at an elder.
Sc&he
Intention: Live under the eyes, nose and mouth
