Zhang Xing watched helplessly as Chu Ci walked into the house with a man on his arm. He knocked on the door for half an hour but no one answered him. His cell phone was out of battery. He squatted at the door of her house angrily, his nose was very sore. The door suddenly opened. Chu Ci was wearing a bathrobe, his face was cold, but there was a smile in his eyes.
The lights in the corridor went out, and Zhang Xing heard his own heartbeat.
He felt like he was finished.
I didn't expect that there would be mangoes in the nectar of poplar branches, nor did I expect that you are one-seven billionth of me.
Purpose: to kill time