Chapter 370 Demonic Obstacle
Fang Baosheng is a soldier under Lu Qiyan. He is sixteen years old. He is smart and astute. Because his life was saved by Lu Qiyan on the battlefield, he is very loyal to him.
After Lu Qiyan was promoted to deputy army commander, he promoted Fang Baosheng to his side as a personal bodyguard.
After Fang Baosheng took the envelope, he suddenly burst into laughter.
If you look at it closer, you can tell that it is a letter, but if you look at it from a distance, it is so thick and bulging, you would think it is a square piece of dough cake!
For God's sake, who is a good person who writes letters like this book?
The commander usually works vigorously and resolutely, and speaks concisely and to the point. But when it comes time to write letters, he becomes a talkative?
Gee, I really saw a different side of the commander!
After sighing with emotion for a long time, Fang Baosheng was a little worried that this letter, which was comparable to making dough cakes, would burst the envelope. He found oil paper and wrapped it, and then tied it carefully with hemp rope. , and then sent it out.
The letter was delivered to Xia Mingyue three days later.
When Xia Mingyue looked at the firmly tied oil paper package, she tilted her head again and again, "Is this really sent back from the military camp?"
"It's absolutely true." The person who sent the message nodded as if he was pounding garlic. He said, "It's a letter from the military camp."
Letter?
Xia Mingyue became more and more stunned.
The oil paper bag looked heavy, so she just thought it was something Lu Qiyan asked someone to bring to her. Is this actually a letter?
Xia Mingyue untied the hemp rope and peeled off the oil paper layer by layer. Sure enough, she saw a bulging envelope inside.
When I opened the envelope, I found a stack of extremely thick letters.
The letter is not only thick, but the words on every piece of paper are densely written, as if all the paper must be used up.
Xia Mingyue couldn't help but raise her eyebrows.
This means that she was a little angry that the letter he wrote was too short, so he quickly wrote more to comfort her?
Not stupid!
Xia Mingyue smiled and entered the room holding a thick letter.
Plug the door in.
Seeing this, Zhuang Cui told Zhuang's mother and Yinqiao to prepare dinner later in the evening.
After all, I don’t know when Xia Mingyue will read the letter.
Zhuang's mother and Yinqiao smiled knowingly and agreed, and even Jiang Zhuguo pursed his lips and smiled again and again.
But while smiling, Jiang Zhuguo was murmuring in his heart.
Her letter was sent out at the same time as Sister Xia. The distance between the two sides is about the same. It is even more troublesome to get letters in and out of the military camp. Sister Xia has already received a reply. The letter she wrote to Wu Xiong should also be available. That's the answer.
Why has there been no movement until now?
Jiang Zhuguo was inevitably a little anxious.
At this time, Wu Xiong was even more anxious.
Even though there was ice in the room at this time, a younger brother was helping to fan the room, and there was a refreshing coolness in the whole room, Wu Xiong still had beads of sweat as big as beans on his forehead.
My back was soaked with sweat from the continuous beads of sweat, making it sticky and uncomfortable.
Beads of sweat gathered on the tip of my nose, getting bigger and bigger, and finally landed on the paper in front of the table with a "clack", causing the already dry words to smudge.
Seeing this, Wu Xiong quickly wiped the sweat on his face with a towel, looked at the words he had just written with great difficulty, and compared them with the words written by Jiang Zhuguo. , sighed.
This sigh was very long, with a full sense of helplessness.
It's quite frustrating. He has practiced calligraphy for more than ten days, but why does the word he writes still look like a chicken claw?
Let’s just say, why is writing so difficult?
Wu Xiong held the pen and read it again and again, feeling increasingly dissatisfied.
This brush is so thin and light, how can it be more difficult than holding ten knives?
Seeing that his boss's hair was turning gray due to worry, the younger brother couldn't bear it and advised, "Why don't you ask Mr. Accountant to help the boss write for you?" "No." Wu Xiong's head shook like a rattle, "I agreed. I wrote a reply to Mrs. Jiang, how can a man break his promise?"
The younger brother curled his lips.
I am just promising to reply, but I am not promising to write it myself.
There are many people in the world who don’t know how to read or write. Don’t they always ask gentlemen who specialize in writing letters on the street to ghostwrite their letters?
When it comes to things like replying to a letter, what matters is the content of the reply and the intention behind the reply. The rest are superficial matters, so don’t worry too much about it!
But I muttered these words in my heart for a long time, but finally did not say them out.
My boss is suffering from convulsions. If he talks too much, he will really show his face to others.
But if I don’t say anything, it would be really unbearable to see my boss become a bitter melon of sorrow.
Just when the younger brother was so entangled that he almost pulled out a big hole in his sleeve, shopkeeper Ge walked in.
"The shopkeeper." Wu Xiong quickly stood up.
Shopkeeper Ge glanced at the paper spread on the table and the many crumpled paper balls beside it, and was a little surprised, "What is this writing on?"
"A few days ago Mrs. Jiang wrote a letter, and I thought about writing a reply to her." Wu Xiong scratched his head again and again in embarrassment, "I never thought that I really couldn't master this word. I practiced it for several days, but I didn't see any results. , I’m worried.”
Wu Xiong, who was so rough that he hit people whenever he disagreed, picked up a pen and paper and sat here upright, thinking about how to write...
Sure enough, It's the power of love!
The corner of Shopkeeper Ge's mouth twitched a few times, and after a moment he said, "I have something to send you out on, it will take about two or three days."
I have to go out.
"Sure." Wu Xiong nodded, "When are you leaving?"
"You pack up and go out early tomorrow morning." Shopkeeper Ge said.
"Sure." Wu Xiong nodded again, and as he spoke, he sat down again and picked up the pen again, "There is still time, I will practice for a while."
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After writing two strokes, he murmured to himself, "It takes two or three days to go out, and there is a lot of time on the road. I have just learned a little bit about this, and there are two days in between. I am afraid that my hands are still alive, so I still have to write these things." I took everything with me and quickly wrote a few strokes when I had time along the way."
He didn't believe it, he couldn't write this word well!
Shopkeeper Ge, "..."
It's really a devil!
In Changzhou Fucheng, Xia Ji’s business is still booming.
Because many of the foods are well-known, and franchisees' food stalls opened one after another, many Shenzhai compounds began to buy some.
Either the slaves satisfy their cravings, or they show filial piety and give their masters a taste of something new.
Xiaji soup dumplings and scallion wontons also appeared on Zhang Heming's table.
The soup dumplings are delicious and delicious. The small wontons are thin in skin and have big fillings. They are full of green onions and are extremely delicious.
Zhang Heming couldn't help but say "hmm" and praised repeatedly, "This Xia Ji's food tastes really good."
"That's right." The boy couldn't help but praise, "You guys have tasted it in private. All kinds of food are delicious, and business is booming every day. If you go there late, you won't be able to buy it. .”