Speaking of ironing machines, Zhang Yaoyao slapped her forehead and remembered that she had never seen that thing in any second-hand store she had visited before.
I don’t know whether you could buy an ironing machine in City A in 1989.
If she couldn't buy it, she would have to use the most primitive ironing method. She would buy an enamel pot, burn a few pieces of charcoal in it, wet the clothes, and then hold the enamel pot back and forth on the wet clothes to iron them, making the most primitive ironing machine.
Zhang Yaoyao shuddered suddenly when she thought of herself ironing clothes with an enamel pot in her hand, covered in dust.
Oh my god, there are too many good days. Once we return to basics, everything is not so good anymore.
It seems that she still needs to take some time to go to City A and buy an ironing machine.
Otherwise, in a day or two, the clothes in her hands will be delivered to the customers. By then, she will have to give the customers a set of wrinkled clothes to take away. It is estimated that no customers will come to her to buy clothes again in the future.
She did what she said. That morning, after breakfast, Zhang Yaoyao went to the store to make clothes for which she had already received deposits. With her eloquence, she sold two more sets of custom-made clothes.
Zhang Yaoyao didn't even have time to eat lunch. She took out two steamed buns from the steamer, stuffed them in her pocket, and rode her old bicycle out.
But as soon as the bicycle turned the corner, she met a familiar figure head-on. A tall and straight man came from the corner. The two looked at each other face to face. In a blink of an eye, Zhang Yaoyao's shabby little bicycle almost hit the other person, and Zhang Yaoyao screamed in fear.
"oops!"
Then, he quickly turned the steering wheel to the side and squeezed the brake with one hand. The old bicycle squeaked to a stop. Zhang Yaoyao sat on the bicycle with one foot on the ground, looked back at the man who had just dodged her old bicycle with agility, and complained.
"Lu Sinian, don't you have eyes? How come you just popped out from around the corner without saying a word? If I bump into you, I won't have any medical expenses."
If you want to die, please don't harm her. She just earned some money and it's not even warm in her pocket yet. She doesn't want to spend it on medical expenses.
Didn't this man always hate her being close to him? She had accidentally forcefully kissed him yesterday, and he had walked away with a sullen face, looking as if he had been licked by a dog.
I actually still live in the same house with her and I ran into her again at noon today. Is this a case of enemies meeting on a narrow road, or is it fate?
Lu Sinian, who was named by Zhang Yaoyao, also had a dark face and said unhappily.
"Zhang Yaoyao, can't you be more careful when riding your bike? You're turning so fast! If I hadn't been quick, you would have hit me."
She kissed him yesterday because she fell down, and now she wants to hit him again. Could it be that this woman has turned love into hate and wants to kill him because her love was not accepted?
If it weren't for the renovation upstairs, which still required him to keep an eye on it, he would have returned to the army long ago. Then he would still be staying in this house on Fushou Street, living in fear every day of someone forcing a kiss on him or wanting to bump into him. His personal safety would not be guaranteed.
Are all women these days like this? If they can't have him, they have to destroy him, whether it's forcing a kiss, ruining his reputation, or even running him over with a bike—each move is incredibly sinister.
Compared to Lu Sinian's accusations, Zhang Yaoyao propped up the shabby little bicycle with one foot as if it was a matter of course and said viciously.
"Who can you blame? It's because you don't have eyes!"
It was just a turn, and he was riding an old bicycle and couldn't turn on the hazard lights in advance. Who knew that this man would suddenly appear from the corner? He deserved to be hit.
Lu Sinian: “…”
So he is being blamed. The cyclist didn't know how to slow down when turning, and he even dares to turn the blame on him.
In order to prevent Lu Sinian from blackmailing her for medical expenses, Zhang Yaoyao decided to slip away first, and continued before the other party could speak.
"Okay, Lu Sinian, since you're okay, I have to go. I have something else to do. Next time, be more careful when you walk and don't bump into cars all the time."
After saying that, he pedaled his old bicycle and ran away with a huff...
Only Lu Sinian was left standing there with a dark face, looking at Zhang Yaoyao's receding back, speechless.
This woman is good at making excuses for her mistakes, but she has improved today. She didn't get close to him, but actually rode her bike away very fast.
What a good start! As long as Zhang Yaoyao sticks to him or gets closer to him, it turns out that women are not as scary as imagined.
Thinking of this, Lu Sinian picked up the screws in his hand, turned around and walked quickly towards the house he was renovating on Fushou Street. The decoration team was still waiting for his screws to renovate the grape trellis on the rooftop.
When he arrived at the first floor, Lu Sinian deliberately took a look at Zhang Yaoyao's small shop which was like a basement. He saw that the door was tightly closed. In the glass display cabinet next to it, there were a few clothes, skirts and several men's suits hanging. They looked lonely. He couldn't see what was beautiful about them, nor did he see the novel styles and unique fabrics that outsiders talked about. How could there be people who were so blind as to always go to Zhang Yaoyao to order clothes?
In any case, Lu Sinian did not appreciate the clothes that Zhang Yaoyao hung in the closet. Perhaps it was because Zhang Yaoyao had never made him feel likable, so no matter how beautiful or novel the clothes she made were, Lu Sinian would not look at them with appreciation.
Thinking of this, Lu Sinian quickly went upstairs to greet the construction team working upstairs. He had to decorate the house as soon as possible and then return to the army.
On the other hand, Zhang Yaoyao rode a broken bicycle around City A, but couldn't find an ironing machine.
Finally, relying on her eloquence and with the guidance of passers-by and enthusiastic people, Zhang Yaoyao arrived at the supply and marketing cooperative in City A.
If she had been sweet-mouthed enough just now, those aunts and uncles would not have lied to her. The supply and marketing cooperative should have ironing machines for sale, but at that time the ironing machine was not called an ironing machine, but an iron.
I walked past rows of counters, passed counters selling socks, shoes, candies, and bicycles, and finally came to a counter selling small appliances.
Zhang Yaoyao glanced around, her eyes lingering over the rice cooker, electric frying pan, flashlight, etc. on the counter, and soon she saw a very modern electric iron in a conspicuous position. It had no water filling device, no support pole, no steam facility, and no water spray outlet. The electric iron was only connected by a power cord and placed alone at the highest point of the counter. Below it was a large red label with the words "electric iron" written on it.
It can be seen that even such an outdated-looking electric iron firmly occupies the position of high-end goods in the supply and marketing cooperatives.
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