This year, many people have been restless.
Mingyi Ji is one of them.
But for him, he sought out the busyness and, despite being so tired that he could barely straighten his back, he enjoyed it.
"Ah!"
Mingyi Ji sat down with his hands on his knees, and even such a simple movement made him heave a sigh of relief.
Like an eighty-year-old grandpa.
Nianhe Lin felt that Grandpa Ji probably wouldn't like to drink soda, so she poured him a cup of tea: "Bro...ther, how long have you been in this state?"
Looking as if he was covered in dust up to his crown.
Sipping the hot tea, Mingyi Ji, while rubbing his sore neck, responded: "Just these few days have been particularly exhausting, I was quite alright before."
Hearing his neck crackle, Nianhe Lin couldn't help herself and reached out to pull his hand down: "Stop turning it, it's not good for your health."
"Hm? The doctor told me to move more, so isn't this kind of movement okay?"
