Xu Qingyan's gaze met with Pei Muchan's, and for some reason, he felt somewhat uneasy in his heart.
After a moment of thought, he still walked over.
"Can I have a seat?"
"Hmm?" Pei Muchan slightly lifted her eyelids, stared at him for two seconds, then moved over on the sofa, "Have you had breakfast?"
Upon hearing this, he pondered for a moment and felt that the focus was not on eating breakfast.
"I have, and it was quite expensive."
He leaned back into the sofa, adjusted his position, and comfortably squinted his eyes. The six yuan soy milk was truly outrageous; he almost forgot he was still poor.
Fate is indeed a strange thing. Just two days ago, he was driving his Wuling fish head with chopped chili all over the place looking for a job. Three or four interviews a day, zealously boosting those dumb HR's performance.