“For once in a hundred years, I’m living like you elderly people with empty nests.”
Faced with this display, Luo Wenzhou’s hand started to itch; he would have loved to go back five seconds and slap himself—teach you to run your mouth.
Luo Wenzhou had meant to bundle up the forces of evil and throw them out, but when his gaze fell on Fei Du’s scratched-up old game machine, his expression suddenly relaxed.
Tao Ran considered it for a long time and then issued a conclusion: “If I were a woman, I doubt I’d have any attention to spare for the two of you. I’d be spending all day worrying about how to come out to my mom.”
“Fei Du, what are you doing here?”
Fei Du gathered up his long legs and raised his eyelids to look at Luo Wenzhou.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this place had your name on it.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll…”
Before he’d finished, Luo Wenzhou suddenly released his hold on his crutch, propped his elbows on his knees, slowly leaned forward, and buried his face in his hands.
In my heart, a cluster of flowers lifts their faces to the burning sun, More sweet-smelling than all fine wines. The boiling fragrance has engulfed the scarecrow’s chest, The straw spirt henceforth enjoying boundless longevity.