Chapter 213 Life is like a play (9)
Zhong Lian’s residence is actually a separate courtyard, which is much better than the east courtyard where Wen Chan and other players are squeezed into the same courtyard.
As soon as he entered the room, Wen Chan threw Zhong Lian on the bed.
The architecture and furnishings of the houses here are full of ancient charm, but only the people are new.
Zhou Lian kicked off her shoes, rolled into the bed, lifted the embroidered quilt, and patted the bed, "Cicada, come over and sleep soon."
Wen Chan looked around and sat down at the table, "You don't know how to take a bath here, do you have to boil water yourself?"
"Huh?"
She suddenly said this, Let Zhong Lian be stunned, "Cicada, do you want to take a bath?"
Wen Chan said nothing.
It would be really inconvenient if it took so much effort to take a bath.
"I'll go boil some water for you." Zhong Lian didn't quite understand what she meant, so he could only get out of bed, put on his shoes, and run out to boil water for Wen Chan.
Wen Chan didn’t stop him either.
After he left, she quickly stood up and rummaged around the room.
It’s not Zhong Lian’s home after all. I haven’t found anything about Zhong Lian.
There are quite a few things about the mayor’s house.
These things are also useful to her.
Wen Chan found a box of rouge from the drawer of the dressing cabinet on the side, with a letter underneath that had been collecting dust for a long time.
There is no writing on the cover. When you open it, there are two pieces of yellowed letter paper.
There is still no word on the letter paper.
Wen Chan: "..."
To tease her?
She opened the rouge and took a look, and the smell of inferior fragrance hit her nostrils.
Looking at these two things, she suddenly felt that there might not be any words on the letter.
It just took too long and faded away.
Wen Chan was silent for a while. Suddenly he put everything back in its place and tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Why is she gossiping about the private stories about other people’s mansions?
“Cicada!”
Zhong Lian’s voice sounded outside the door.
He ran in quickly and saw Wen Chan sitting in front of the dressing table. He smiled at her and said, "Cicada, please hurry up and get ready. The hot water will be ready soon."< br>
Wen Chan was surprised, "So fast?"
It had only been ten minutes since he ran out.
"There is hot water in the kitchen, I have asked someone to fetch it for you."
After arriving at this big house, the players have not wandered around, and the troupe has not wandered around either. Working on the last show.
The mayor is not at home, so who boils the hot water in the kitchen?
Wen Chan suddenly remembered that before coming in, the mayor said that his wife liked to eat fast and chant Buddha's name, but Wen Chan had not seen her yet.
As the hostess of this big house, she didn’t react at all to so many outsiders coming to the house.
He is indeed a very calm person who does not care about worldly affairs.
Wen Chan asked: "Have you ever seen the mistress of this courtyard?"
"Are you talking about Aunt Liu? I have seen her." Zhong Lian blinked.
"Is asking for information about the mayor and his family something that Cicada must do?" He tilted his head and asked.
Wen Chan didn't hide it, "Absolutely."
The mayor changed his attitude and asked them to stay overnight, which still made Wen Chan a little concerned.
Coupled with those words that Zhong Lian "cursed" Qin Ji.
She didn’t feel like she was targeting Qin Ji alone, something might happen to all the players.
It's just that she was called to the west courtyard by him, so she would most likely escape the disaster.
Zhou Lian stared at Wen Chan for a while, then suddenly said: "Then you go directly to Aunt Liu and ask."
He ran to Wen Chan, stood up on tiptoes and stood next to Wen Chan. Cicada whispered in her ear, "Let me tell you, Aunt Liu's relationship with the mayor is not good. I moved in two days ago, and I heard them arguing in the middle of the night. "
This chapter is a bit short, mainly because I only slept for more than three hours yesterday, relying on a cup of coffee to survive. , I can’t bear it anymore, please take a leave