Before five o'clock in the evening, Wu Chengjie was sitting on the sofa, with his computer and head on his legs.
"Chengjie, what are we eating tonight, pork chop rice?"
"Too oily,"
"Chunchuan spicy hotpot?"
"Too spicy,"
"Then what do you want to eat?"
"Whatever,"
"Wu Goujie!!"
After about 20 seconds of silence, he said, "Hi, my friend, here you go, spicy hotpot, pork chop rice. Didn't you keep clamoring to eat it a few days ago?" From beginning to end, Chengjie's eyes never left the computer, but Zhao Chenmo still couldn't help but feel a heat filling his eyes.
"Chengjie, fortunately you are mine."