"I borrowed Pengpeng's money," Milo Ding sat cross-legged on the bed, looking down at his phone, "He said he could pay it back at the end of the year."
"Are you asking me?" Oscar Lin moved grandma's rocking chair into the bedroom, and now he lay on it and rocked his head up and down, "I want to say you won't borrow it, can you agree?"
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," Milo Ding glanced at him, "You move the chair in again, and grandma will come back and whip you later."
"When she came back, I carried the chair and went out to greet her," Oscar Lin said, "This chair is really comfortable. Grandpa's craftsmanship is not bad. This chair is twenty years old, right? It's not loose at all."
"Fifteen or sixteen years ago," Milo Ding said, "I liked to sleep on my head when I was in elementary school."
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