Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 infoRed wine, seafood.

This is the most satisfying dinner Confuciana has ever had, maybe the effect of red wine and alcohol, Confucius's face has revealed two reddened clouds, like ripe apples, so tempting, under the moving music of the restaurant, it is even more difficult to think about it.

"Why don't you eat, just leave me alone, how embarrassing." Looking at Zhong Guolong Confucius, who had been drinking and not eating, he said.

"All I have is wine, nothing else matters to me."

In front of Confucius, Confucius, with the strength of drinking a glass and a half of red wine, couldn't help but ask curiously, "What do you do?"

Seriously, she wanted to know the details of the man in front of her, and she had never been so interested in any man.

At this time, there was still more than half a bottle of wine left, which was not too much for them.

"Do you really want to know?" Zhong Guolong looked at her and said.

"Really."

"I said I'm a poet, won't you laugh at me."

"What a smile, it means that you have a dream."

"What if I say I'm a courier?"

"There's nothing funny about that, you're a self-reliant person after all."

"Then since you say so, then I am a person who delivers couriers during the day and writes poems at night." Zhong Guolong said with a smile.

"Then you are the richest and most ideal courier in the world." The two of them smiled at each other, and then the two of them raised their glasses in understanding.

After speaking, they drank it all.To be honest, Confucius hadn't been so bold in front of that man since she was a child, and today she didn't know what's wrong, suddenly so bold, that she couldn't even figure out her head.Through the glass of the cup, she couldn't help but secretly look at the big man in front of her, to be honest, she had never looked at a man like this, especially a man who was more than a decade older than her.After examining for a while, Confucius couldn't help but ask."Brother Long, what year were you?"

"Why are you asking this?

"No, I just want to know." Confucius replied a little shyly, this shyness invisibly made her more delicate, but Zhong Guolong didn't look at her face, otherwise he would not have rejected her question.

"Got it, you have to call me Uncle Long, not Brother Long."

"Then Uncle Long, may I ask you Guigeng?" took Zhong Guolong's words, Confucius teased.

"I'm not serious, I won't tell you, little girl," Zhong Guolong refused.

"I don't dare you say it, if you grow your beard, you will be like an uncle, just like the last time I met you in the subway, if you call me uncle, I really don't dare to call you."

"Why?"

"Because you're like an uncle."

"Am I that old?"

"Don't I know how old you are?"

"I really want to know, then I'll tell you, so you don't have to call your uncle uncle."

"Then you say."

"I'm '76."

"'76, months, and days," Confucius asked as if she were interrogating a prisoner.

"September 5, 76." In Confucius's forced gaze, Zhong Guolong poured beans into a bamboo tube, and then asked her rhetorically.

"Just ask, can't you, do you think a young woman like me would be interested in an old country dish like you?"

"No, of course not," Zhong Guolong laughed to himself.

"Come, let's toast to what you said."