Lin Qiaoyu floated over in a cold and indifferent manner, still protecting a few cards in her hand.
Fang Zong sighed helplessly and told Lin Qiaoyu to put the mahjong tiles back.
Having taught him kung fu, Lin Qiaoyu was practically his mentor. She never hit or scolded him; she would just call Laura over and give him a light tap on the forehead...
"Dingdang, the summoner's bad luck is limitless! I touched the ghost aura +1!"
That's normal. The little girl gets filmed too much, so her strength won't improve. And since Fang Zong has become stronger, the probability of her getting the ability is even lower.
"You hit me again~" The little girl was used to being hit by Fang Zong and didn't feel any pain, but she was full of grievances.
Fang Zong glanced at the little girl indifferently, without saying a word.
Unlike ordinary ghosts, Lin Qiaoyu doesn't have much bloodlust towards the living; being a little stronger isn't a problem, as she can even be a helper. Laura, on the other hand, is a soul slave and doesn't have that kind of bloodlust either, but she has fully developed the selfish and self-serving nature of ghosts.
Little Soul Slave would never do anything that harms others without benefiting himself;
Things that harm others for personal gain are different. For example, killing a few people and turning them into ghosts to eat as snacks is perfectly normal.
Everyone at home is a familiar face, so I didn't bother warning them; I just filmed the weakest one...
"Dingdang, you've sensed ghostly energy +1!"
"Dingdang, your stitching ability has increased by 1!"
"Dingdang, you've sensed ghostly energy +1..."
The little girl lowered her head further and further, her eyes brimming with tears.
Seeing that the other person had started to cry, Fang Zong put the little soul slave aside, walked through the living room, and went to the kitchen to start a fire.
“You don’t need to do it, Dad will do it!” Fang Yongsheng stubbornly followed into the kitchen.
“You really can’t do this. Go out and rest. I’ll do it today.” Fang Zong immediately laughed and pushed his father out: “I won’t cook at the chess and card room today. I’ll order takeout!” The ginseng and deer antlers that were delivered before were still sitting idle. If he didn’t make some to nourish his parents, he was really afraid they would go bad.
Fang Yongsheng went out happily.
The family enjoyed the meal together, except that Fang Zong's eyes were a little red.
"It smells delicious, but it's a pity I can't eat it." Ninth Sister felt hungry but couldn't have any, so she started to grumble: "I really don't know what's so fun about 136 little squares. But your parents must be exhausted taking care of so many people, and they can't make up for it. They should just stop making them and you can earn money for them to spend!"
Fang Zong also thought these words made sense. Should the elderly still have to save money to live on when the children have grown up? But upon closer thought, he felt that something was not quite right.
Setting up a card and chess room is really tiring. Closing the card and chess room is fine, but my parents and old friends will have nowhere to play. If the elderly have too much free time, I'm really worried that they'll get sick from being idle.
After rejecting Jiu Mei's suggestion, Fang Zong began to consider it more deeply.
The next day at noon was the time we had agreed to meet.
Unable to resist Zhao Zhixia's strong desire to have a grandson, Fang Zong still had to go and see her. However, he decided to part ways amicably and just go through the motions.
However, when it was time for a meal, they received a message that the other party couldn't come over for the time being.
"Xiao Zong, that girl went to Xishan this morning and didn't come back for some reason. Her brother called and said we should wait for an hour or so. Is that alright?" Aunt Mei looked a little embarrassed and gritted her teeth. If the other person wasn't her own niece, she would have dragged Fang Zong away long ago.
Although Fang Zong had just returned to China and hadn't found a job yet, and overseas returnees weren't as valuable as before, she knew that Fang Zong had a doctoral degree in medicine. Shancheng wasn't a big city, and it was rare to see someone like him return to develop his career.
"Alright, I don't mind." Fang Zong didn't mind waiting a little longer and said with a smile, "Aunt Mei, why don't you go upstairs and play cards? I heard they invited you. I can wait by myself."
"Alright, here's a photo. Don't mistake me for someone else." Aunt Mei was quite straightforward.
A man ordered an Irish white coffee, stirred it with a coffee spoon, and drifted off into thought.
I took a walk around the neighborhood today and didn't see any ghosts or any surveillance from the ghost-slaying team. It felt like everything was still the same as it was three years ago, so normal and peaceful. Fang Zong felt like he had traveled through time.
Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation on his face; someone was staring at him. Fang Zong smiled slightly and picked up his coffee spoon.
With a "snap," the pure steel coffee spoon broke. The two broken pieces were put back together, pressed down a couple of times with my fingers, and then pinched back together.
The person staring at him was clearly frightened, and their gaze quickly disappeared.
"The Ghost Slayers? They seem like utterly incompetent little trash." Fang Zong's eyes narrowed slightly as he began to consider giving the Ghost Slayers a real lesson.
Kind people are often bullied, and good horses are often ridden. If you don't break a few dozen bones, someone will probably keep an eye on you.
When the coffee was finished, Fang Zong switched to juice.
When he was halfway through his juice, two men pushed a beautiful woman into the kitchen of the Domino Tea Restaurant.
In the kitchen, a handsome young man dressed in a dark red wool coat hurried over and grabbed the woman, saying, "Zhilan, why are you only arriving now? People have been waiting for you for an hour and a half!"
"Brother, I don't know what happened. I was just sitting by the lake in Xishan and I completely forgot about it," Zhilan explained, pouting slightly, still somewhat dissatisfied.
So what if she has to wait? There are plenty of men who want to wait for Miss Sun! Blind dates rarely work out on the first try. It doesn't matter if one fails. Sun Zhilan thought her older brother sending two cousins to bring her back was making a mountain out of a molehill.
She was still thinking about the strange thing that happened that morning—a missed call that showed her own number!
"Tell me, which one?" Sun Zhilan peeked out from the food outlet, initially not caring.
"That one, it's in the middle of the third row," Sun Gang pointed out to her.
After just one glance, Sun Zhilan immediately went out!
"Hello, I'm Fang Zong." Fang Zong stood up with a smile.
"I'm Sun Zhilan," Sun Zhilan said with a smile. Indeed, blind dates rarely succeed on the first try. But going on a blind date with a handsome guy is also a kind of enjoyment.
Fang Zong was wearing a black overcoat, without changing his clothes. Due to the influence of a certain aura, his masculine energy was astonishing. The overcoat couldn't hide his broad shoulders, and his chest was bulging, indicating that he had muscles.
Sun Zhilan sized up Fang Zong, and Fang Zong also looked at Sun Zhilan seriously.
The woman in front of me was very tall; even in flat sandals, she was no less tall than a model. Her beautiful, long legs were slender and straight beneath her hot pants.
But Fang Zong dared to guarantee that he was definitely not there to see pretty girls.
Sun Zhilan's face carried a faint, yet stubbornly lifeless aura!
"Ring ring~~~" Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Please go ahead." Sun Zhilan readily agreed to Fang Zong's request, but in her heart she thought, "Isn't it a bit too unromantic that he doesn't even set a ringtone for his phone?"
She was a little disappointed.
Fang Zong smiled apologetically, walked to the side, took out his phone, and suddenly froze.
"What's going on?" Fang Zong was a little confused because the caller ID showed his own number.
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