"Ah!" A sharp female voice pierced the sky.
"Lan Chu! Don't always touch other people's wallets!" The good-looking uncle wearing sunglasses patted the young man's head and said gently.
The young man turned back with the classic expression of a depressed Tuzki, and then put on a smile that showed no teeth. He slipped in front of the aunt, bowed respectfully, apologized, took out an embroidered wallet from the big bag behind him, dusted it twice, and presented it to her with both hands.
After walking two streets and turning three turns, the young man suddenly stopped. He smiled brightly and his eyes were shining. Then he took out the exquisite embroidered wallet from the big bag = =. Then, the uncle touched the young man's soft hair and said in a very gentle tone, "I know, so what you just sent back is true." The young man was messy in the wind, lowered his head, and murmured to himself like a small animal, "Damn it, we lost again!"