The greatest insult to a person is not only eating worse than a dog but also earning less than a dog.
It was the first time Wang Xing experienced what it meant to live worse than a dog.
At seven in the evening, the sun had just set, the distant horizon still glowed, but the night market had already begun bustling.
"Qingzi, did you say his monthly salary is eighteen thousand?" At a roadside open-air barbecue, Wang Xing gazed incredulously at the tethered big yellow dog beside him and asked.
"It should be true, Big Yellow's followers are already close to three hundred thousand, darling, look." Beside him, Wang Xing's goddess Jiang Mengting said softly while holding her phone.
Her tone was unbelievably gentle, as she spoke, she leaned against Wang Xing.
Yes, Wang Xing had come to dine with his girlfriend, naturally flaunting their relationship in front of him.
