"Clatter..."
Two bags of trash rolled, some spilling out, including a size 37 half-covered women's slipper.
In front of the courtyard trash dump.
Fang Weiguo clapped his hands. Despite the stench here, he inexplicably started laughing to himself, as if something joyous had happened.
Strange.
Last night, he was clearly fuming with rage.
"Brother Fang!"
It was still too smelly.
After throwing the trash and relieving some of his emotions, he turned around to head back.
"Brother Fang!"
Another shout entered his ears.
It seemed he hadn't misheard.
Fang Weiguo turned his head, surprised, and then stopped.
"Huazi."
Jiang Huazi walked over quickly, alongside her was the composed and controlled Mai Encui.
She had washed her face before coming.
Otherwise, being mistaken for coming to mourn would be bad.
"Brother Fang, throwing trash, huh."
"Yeah."
Fang Weiguo nodded, his eyes naturally falling on Mai Encui, who looked slightly more prosperous than Jiang Huazi.
