"OK! Then let's get 5 skewers!"
Zhao Yaqian seemed like she was in her element, showing the lively and cheerful nature typical of girls her age.
Soon enough, the glass bowl in her hand was filled to the brim.
The bald store owner calculated with a calculator.
A total of 38 skewers, 153 yuan.
Zhao Yaqian swiftly scanned to pay, then turned to secretly complain to Tang Song, saying that several types of skewers in this shop had increased in price while the portions had gotten smaller.
They finished a satisfying meal of fried skewers.
The two strolled leisurely around Yunsheng Square to aid digestion.
As night quietly fell, the lights began to glow, and neon halos enveloped them.
Looking at Zhao Yaqian's exquisite and defined profile, breathing in her faint fragrance mixed with the complex smell of fried skewers.
He couldn't help but lean in and give her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
When the beautician looked over, he playfully said, "I love you."
