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Chapter 10 Dinner
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... ting.
In order to let him write more drafts, Laning’s meal was very slow, and in the end he was so hungry that he couldn’t stand it.
The Confucian language turned over and looked at her like a smile: "I thought you were going to do tomorrow morning."
Laning wrinkled his nose and pulled the chair down. There was no such thing as a small ninety-nine being seen: "I did it according to my taste. If you don't like it, I am not responsible for doing it again."
The Confucian ...
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