"Yeah," Zhang Moyan was delighted with Xiao Xingyu's calm attitude, "that's why."
Xiao Xingyu nodded, and suddenly seemed to remember something and pointed at her phone: "Did Geng Jun give you my phone number?"
Zhang Moyan shook her head: "No."
Xiao Xingyu seemed very troubled: "I've been receiving calls from an unfamiliar number lately. I thought it was you calling me."
"Really?" Zhang Moyan was curious.
"Yeah," Xiao Xingyu took his phone from her hand and slid it open to show her, randomly flipping to a strange missed call. He had a bunch of missed calls on his phone anyway: "Look, this number called me several times."
Zhang Moyan shook her head, believing it. "This number isn't mine. My number is ****."
"Oh, ****, is it?" Xiao Xingyu raised his phone calmly, then dialed a number that he had saved in his phone and looked at several times before going to bed every day.
Zhang Moyan's phone rang, and Xiao Xingyu opened his eyes. Zhang Moyan held the phone and asked, "Is this your number? I'll save it, too."
"Save it!" Xiao Xingyu stood there nonchalantly, watching her write the number into the address book. "You don't have to envy any woman anymore. It's you who should be envied."
Zhang Moyan: “?”
Xiao Xingyu said arrogantly and shamelessly: "I envy you for having my phone number."
Zhang Moyan: “…”
Xiao Xingyu stared at Zhang Moyan's flushed face with amusement. At this time, a phone call came in. He glanced down and saw that it was his father Xiao Weizhou.
My son didn't come home all night and hasn't been seen for most of the day. As a father, I must be worried.
"Dad," Xiao Xingyu answered the phone and was about to tell him about the situation when Xiao Weizhou's voice on the other end suddenly exploded in panic: "Xingyu, where are you? Something terrible has happened. Lin Yin committed suicide out of fear of punishment!!"
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I've been writing every day for four months without realizing it.
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Lin Sheng of the Southern Song Dynasty wrote a poem called "Inscription on Lin'an Residence" with 28 characters, which has been passed down through the ages.
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I have written 420,000 words in this book, but it is nothing.
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Comparing yourself to others will make you feel thief!
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????
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