"I won't ask anymore, I won't ask anymore, big brother!" Qian Miao looked at the young man in front of her in horror. The boy was in ragged clothes, and his long hair was mixed in the heavy snow in the sky. It was so white that people doubted his life. "My dear brother, if you have any grudges or grievances, I will kowtow to you three times. I have to go back to class first and kiss you." The long sword was still hanging in front of Qian Miao's neck. Qian Miao squeezed out a smile and said flatteringly. The young man remained motionless, "You said your name is Tang Qianmiao?" His tone was colder than winter. "Yes, yes, yes, boss, please speak if you need anything." "Can you name me, okay?" "Okay, okay, you are the boss, you can say whatever you want..." "Huh? Boss, would you like me to give me a name?" Jianfeng squeezed the flesh of his neck a little tighter, and Qian Miao quickly raised his hands, "No, boss?" "Eleven is very good." This is the most words Eleven has said to Qian Miao in the past three years, bar none. The sickly boy and the chatty policeman may be a fateful meeting.