As if he was eating alone, Jaxon You asked him to call the other two people. Carter Zhu said that he had just asked. Beckett Hong said that he didn't like to eat fish, Grayson Li said that he didn't like to go for a walk, and Jaxon You neither liked to eat fish nor did he like to go for a walk. He didn't like to stroll around, so he thought to himself that this would really be like lifting a whitefish to his own feet.
It generally gets dark late in Xinjiang. In winter, at eight or nine o'clock in the evening, the sky has just turned dark. Now it is almost late at night, and the shops on both sides of the road are still doing brisk business. The two of them, tightly wrapped in masks, strolled along the streets of downtown Yili and found a pleasant little shop to sit down at.
When Carter Zhu received the dazzling array of menus, his eyes immediately shone. Jaxon You looked at the heroic manner in which he ordered the dishes and failed to dissuade him. She felt something was wrong in her heart. Sure enough, before the main dish of high white salmon came, the man grilled it with his left hand. Steamed buns, an oil tart in the right hand, surrounded by a large plate of chicken, and they started to feast.
When the meal was over thirty, the long white salmon that he had longed for was presented to him. Carter Zhu began to look embarrassed as he supported his waist that could not be bent.
He looked at Jaxon You pitifully. Jaxon You understood everything and quickly pulled over the small bowl of milk tea he ordered, clearly distinguishing himself from the other party.
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