Li Xiaoyun raised another question from the depths of her soul: "Weren't you drunk?"
Zhao Dingli confidently and firmly said, "I'm not drunk."
Li Xiaoyun: "..."
But you're still drunk.
At this hour, there are indeed quite a few night owls in the group chat.
Or we should say, everyone is here.
All were triggered by the voice message that Zhao Dingli sent.
Han Zhuofeng: "Wow, sounds like it's Brother Qianzi?"
Nan Jingheng: "It must be Brother Qianzi for sure, no one else could call him so miserably."
Wei Wucai: "Wei Zhikai is online, feeling humble and loved."
Han Zhuoli: "Uncle Zhao, are you hiding under Wei Zhikai's table to record this?"
Zhao Dingli is indeed drunk; the words on the virtual keyboard of his phone appear double.
He's used to the full keyboard layout; if it were changed to a nine-grid, he wouldn't manage it.
