After a commotion, a fat, white man with oily sweat on his face sat down next to Chen Yang.
"Brother, smoke a cigarette."
Fatty Bai took out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and spread one towards Chen Yang.
The plastic film on the outside of the cigarette box has long since disappeared, and the soft box with the trademark printed on it is stained by sweat and wear, and it is no longer possible to tell what kind of cigarette it is.
Even the cigarette that was handed to Chen Yang, the filter tip and the body of the cigarette were covered with yellow-brown spots, as if they were moldy.
Isn't this just mold?
Chen Yang had a funny look on his face.
This cigarette is very similar to the so-called "old cigarette" that was popular for a while many years ago.
Seeing the fat white man's face still twitching and hurting while passing the cigarette, Chen Yang felt even more amused.
That's it, it's become a hot commodity.
Chen Yang changed his mind about refusing and reached out to take it. He lit the cigarette with the white fat man diligently and said with a smile: "Thank you, what do you call me?"
Fatty Bai carefully took back the remaining cigarettes. He didn't want to light it himself, so he said flatteringly: "My name is Ponton, and my friends call me Fatty."
"Cough cough cough~"
Chen Yang was so surprised that he didn't choke and said sincerely: "What a good name."
Fatty grinned nonchalantly.
Chen Yang took two more puffs, and an extremely familiar feeling came to his heart. It was only at this time, surrounded by the cigarette, that he truly felt "back".
Moldy cigarettes have a sweet smell. If it hadn't been for a long time since he had touched tobacco, Chen Yang would really not be able to smoke anymore.
Seeing how distressed Pang Dun was, Chen Yang reluctantly finished his cigarette and flicked it out the window.
"Are cigarettes in short supply now?"
Chen Yang asked while flicking the cigarette butt away.
Fatty slapped his thigh and cried bitterly: "Isn't that right? Nowadays, everything that is not valuable is food, drink, and production that can be used for fighting."
"Cigarettes, smoke one less."
Fatty muttered about how difficult it was for him to obtain such old cigarettes, as several major cigarette factories no longer produced them, etc.
Chen Yang just laughed.
Believed in his evil deeds.
No matter how drastic the world changes and productivity tilts, it will not affect the enjoyment of the rich and powerful.
It may be difficult for ordinary civilians.
Chen Yang listened to Pang Dun's chatter with one ear, just like listening to someone whispering beside him while he was half asleep and half awake. He could clearly tell that someone was talking, but he couldn't remember what he said?
He looked at the back of the chair, from his toes to his hair, relaxing little by little.
This kind of relaxation is something that Chen Yang can't do in the world of Longmen.
This is the comfort of home.
The clanking green leather train was winding its way forward. Everyone in the car was either anxious or depressed, but Chen Yang was the only one, sitting as comfortably as on a dragon's chair, with such comfort and ease that he could withstand even if the sky fell.
The self-confidence is like a big orange mixed into a big box of apples, which is very vivid.
Pang Dun didn't know when he closed his mouth. Because his face was too big and his eyes were too small, his eyes that looked evil were rolling around. He looked at Chen Yang, who was half asleep and half awake, with his eyes shining brightly.
An hour later.
"Crunch~~~"
A sharp chirping sound came from the green train, which was braking hard and slowing down slowly.
Amid the screams, Chen Yang slowly opened his eyes...