One hundred ninety-three, isn't it just an address? Here, take it! _1
If you want it, you have it—talking about such precious things as if they're chives in one's own field, available anytime and growing in batches every few days.
Isn't this a joke?
"May I ask, what exactly do you do?" Uncle Guang was just too curious about Gu Chen.
Now, he only felt that Gu Chen was a very peculiar person.
Gu Chen's mouth twitched, returning to this troubling question.
What does Gu Chen do?
What on earth does he do? He didn't even know.
Selling vegetables, selling medicines, selling fruits—whatever makes money, that's what he'd do.
He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to describe himself.
After a long time, he finally thought of a sentence that could describe himself, "I'm just a person who wants to make money."
Yes, that's all he was—a person who wanted to make money and nothing more.
Gu Chen was quite satisfied with this answer.
Upon hearing this, Uncle Guang only felt a buzz in his head.