Half a month ago, Feng Xing bought a medium-sized truck, which reminded Xiao Xian of her time in Guizhou and Uncle San Gouzi's profession.
That little Auto that once led Xiao Xian to encounter Xuerou and, by a stroke of fate, get to know Mr. Bai, had been out of use for a while, and was mostly parked at the farmhouse in Yanqing.
"Time really does fly, it looks like my plan to visit Grandpa again this year is not going to happen," Xiao Xian tidied up the balcony, swept the scattered soil into her pocket, and then took it downstairs to put it back in the flower bed.
Soil is only called soil when it can nurture and moisten plants.
While tidying up downstairs, Xiao Xian ran into the women's director of the community, a middle-aged woman with a round face like fermented dough, who recognized Xiao Xian at a glance.
