Fake show is real: Wrong Love Bo Liang Chief

In the end, he still chose to stand aside and wait for her to finish ordering. He was not used to sitting in that place alone.

During the period, she seemed to be talking to the old man who sold Mala Tang >

老>

Both of them frowned, for their own last bit of benefit, they refused to give in to each other.

Seeing the scene in front of him, Wen Jili suddenly smiled knowingly. [

In the end, the woman's small face raised a triumphant smile, and the opposite was the helpless expression of the old man. He probably couldn't get any benefit from Qin Jing, so he had to turn his head and shout at him.

"A person who looks expensive, how can he be so petty!"

Wen Jili had a black line on his forehead, while Qin Jing dragged her to the small table next to him, first took a tissue to wipe the stool he was going to sit on and the table he was going to use later, and then took a picture of it stool.

"Mr. Wen, sit down!"

Wen Jili glanced at Qin Jing indifferently, she did these things naturally and with great restraint.

"Why don't you wipe it yourself?"

Yes, she only wiped it for him, but she herself sat down on the stool directly, with the same natural and unembarrassed expression.

She brushed her hair back behind her ears, and smiled at him indifferently, "I've survived in a dirtier place than this. What is this oil stain?"

"Then why did you wipe it for me?" Wen Jili asked back, staring at the woman's face with thin eyes, and found that she had always looked flat.

"No reason! Just do it. Some things, when you find out why, maybe you won't do it."

After finishing speaking, without looking at Wen Jili, he began to look around. In addition to selling Mala Tang, there are also octopus balls and hand pancakes not far away, like a ghost street.

On the opposite side, they sell clothes, bags and the like. They just spread a piece of cloth on the ground, and the bags are placed on the ground, and the clothes are carried by the hand, or put in the cart.

She pointed to the girl selling clothes across the street, "I also sold that kind of pants before, hot pants. The purchase price was 8 yuan a pair, and the selling price was 19 yuan. Many young girls like it, and they are fashionable enough."

I saw her pointing to another stall, "I also sold that kind of cotton pants, but before I sold two, the whole trolley was destroyed by the city >

Thinking of the trousers, Qin Jing pouted slightly, a little upset, "I don't know how many relatives that uncle gave my trousers to!"

Just when Wen Jili was about to speak, Malatang came up.

It was covered with red oil and sprinkled with a thick layer of chili. Wen Jili felt his head was smoking just by looking at it.

The small low table where they sat was equipped with disposable chopsticks, which were inserted into the cleaned pot of eight-treasure porridge, and the periphery of the pot was even a little rusty.

She pumps directly>

Immediately, he ate the bowl of Wen Jili's Mala Tang with smoke in his head.

Now, he only hoped that his bowl would be served later, and in the end it would be served after she had finished eating.

It's a pity that things didn't work out as expected, not long after Wen Jili's thoughts came to his mind, the old man brought his bowl of Malatang and walked towards him.

Wen Jili looked at the night Mala Tang in the hands of the old man, and felt that not only his head was smoking, but his ears and nose were also smoking, as if that layer of red >