Mia Zhao walked in and saw an old man wearing a vest and a clean squat, sitting cross-legged, blowing the cup of tea in front of him intently, which looked like the kind of Japanese manga practicing tortoise-style qigong.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, he raised his head and glanced at Mia Zhao.
That look is quite unpredictable.
“Mia Zhao? Come and sit down.”
The voice also revealed the majesty of the elderly.
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