***

It was raining heavily in the afternoon, and the swimming pool was boiled by countless rain channels, as if it was boiling.

This is the rainy season here, and it will swell for a while every day.

Zong Hang threw himself on the bed and spread it into the word "big".

He was thinking about Jing Xiu's words.

In fact, Jing Xiu just said that, but at this age, he is very sensitive to nerve endings, and a word or scene can be enlightened.

Yes, is his own?

No, it seems that they are all from others. Those elders who are over him use their own life experiences, like plastering mud on the mold of Terracotta Warriors, left and right, to apply him in a proper manner and fitting manner.

The "cautious" and "can't do this" and "that's not suitable" that he spoke are all from others. He accepts them all, does not digest them, does not chew them, and is like a sound tube, and teaches others earnestly.

Failure, too failed.

Zong Hang was so depressed that this depression made him heavy, and even Apa didn't have the strength to respond.

Apa was afraid that he thought something was wrong, so he rushed to the front desk in a panic, got the spare room card, opened the door and came in.

The darkness after the rain and the grayness at dusk aggravated the darkness in the house, and the human figure on the bed was particularly in line with the suicidal attitude of the whole world.

Apa was shocked and rushed over and shouted, "Young Master, what's wrong with you?"

Then he breathed a sigh of relief: Although Zong Hang's eyes were a bit dull like a dead fish's eyeball, they still had light after all.

Zong Hang was weak: "It's really boring to live."

Apa also had this sudden depression and knew that Zong Hang urgently needed to be excited: "I heard from Brother Long that he contacted the two Cambodians who beat you and were communicating..."

Zong Hang closed his eyes and waved his hand again, telling him not to be noisy.

Apa had no choice but to sit by the bed for a while, and suddenly his eyes turned: "Young Master, why don't we go to the old market to drink bar, that kind of tuk-tuk car bar? I haven't been there, and I always stand by and watch, and I have never sat in it."

He sighed: "I really want to go, but the wine is expensive and I can't afford it."

Zong Hang's eyelids finally opened the crack: "Want to drink?"

Apa nodded violently.

Zong Hang slowly sat up from the bed: "Then I'll treat you."

***

Zong Hang circled around the streets and alleys of the old market area for a few times and finally confirmed that it was not that Tutu Bar had changed its parking location, but the location had not changed.

It was changed by the business person.

You can leave at will? Really, it will take ten days and half a month for a flower to fall.

He has a little loss of change in things and people.

Apa was very excited. The Tutu bar was a foreign thing that ghosts like. It was rare to have the opportunity to experience it, but it was free.

He wanted to finish Cambodian beer and whiskey, and soon became brothers with the Cambodians who sold alcohol. Liang Zonghang sat gracefully on the side.

It’s okay, no one bothers me, it’s a different feeling. Tourists are flowers and clouds. Come and go, just flowers bloom and fall, clouds roll and clouds roll...

As she was poetic, the Cambodian suddenly said "Isa".

Zong Hang's heart thumped and his ears erected.

That's right, the man mentioned this name several times, but other than that, he spoke Khmer, and he was very happy with Apa.

After a while, the Cambodian even took out a piece of paper and drew pictures with a pen on it.

Zong Hang looked at it squintly: the picture looks quite like the sinusoidal curve that caused him extremely troublesome when he was a student, with peaks and troughs, and the date is marked.

Apa smiled like a mouse stealing food, a cat stealing fishy food.
Chapter completed!