On the verge of widowhood

Bai Qing subconsciously covered her mouth, and shed tears in the reappearance of the golden fragment.

The floating frequency of those gold foils became faster and faster, then they disintegrated in the air with a rustle, and finally disappeared.

The bell seemed to have a lingering sound.

A waiter who appeared out of nowhere appeared in front of him, Bai Qing wiped away his tears indiscriminately, and just wanted to ask where Bai Zi was.

The waiter preemptively pushed him a file bag from the table: "Happy birthday boss."

Bai Qing was stunned, boss?

Immediately, I subconsciously recalled what I said not long ago: I probably want to open a small shop, the kind that opens on the corner of the street, where people do business and no one entertains themselves.