Fang Jing had just returned from Metamorphosis. He was not very strong at 17 or 18 years old. He was panting while carrying a bag of rice. The brother and sister were moving and preparing to rent a house in the county town.
"Brother, did you really sell the house?" Fang Hui was carrying her schoolbag and looking at Fang Jing with her small face.
"Sold, we are the only ones at home, why keep it? I rented a house in the county with three bedrooms and one living room, not far from the entrance of your school. It is convenient for you to study."
Carrying the sack, Fang Jing was physically tired, but his heart was relaxed. The final payment for participating in the program was all collected, plus the money from selling the house, he could live a carefree life in the county for a year and a half.
Take advantage of this time to work and make money.
Who said that the memory of a time traveler is incredible? That’s bullshit, the author of Poujie scrawled it, and even if he had to recite it, he would not be able to memorize it.
It's impossible to sing, I don't know the music, I can't be a copywriter, I haven't read many novels, and I can't remember them.
It’s better to work part-time!
"Brother Fang Jing, walk slowly and come back often."
Fang Jing turned around and saw a four or five-year-old young lady waving to him. This was Gu Qing, one of the richest people in the village. His father was a pig feeder, with more than a dozen pigs, and he also contracted for a banquet.