"Hey, stop!" The young man with a cigarette in his mouth finally shouted this when he wanted to speed up and pass by.
Zhang Xiaomo's body shook slightly. He knew that he should turn his head wisely at this moment, smile, and then take out all the valuable things on his body and hand them to the young man behind him. But the moment he heard the young man speaking to him, Zhang Xiaomo clenched his small fist, which was already small, and secretly made a promise to himself, just because he hoped that in his next ten years, he could still hear the young man's nice voice.