Even gossip and truth can't be said, so what's the meaning of this life?

Nan Wen knew, so he asked the guess that flashed in his mind just now.

But he didn't ask directly, but gave a foreshadowing before asking.

"Do you like to draw?"

Wen Mo scratched his head a little inexplicably: "I don't like to paint, but I know people who like to paint." ”

"Then do you like to tweet?"

"It's okay, it's okay, it's just normal, if I'm particularly handsome one day, I'll definitely post on Weibo, after all, I always have to let everyone appreciate my prosperous face."

"How many followers do you have on Weibo?"

"Hey, hey, stinky girl, stinky girl, let's just ask other questions happily, as for the powder. I definitely won't tell you about such a private issue, don't think about sending a message from me, I won't tell you if I die. ”

"When did you post a portrait of me on Weibo?"

"Just half a month ago, before and before ......"

Wen Mo's face, which was called a prosperous god, froze instantly, and the originally sunny smile looked a little weird at this time.

Scratching his hair in embarrassment: "Ahem, cough, you know?" But how do you know? I didn't use my trumpet to send anything else, and I wiped all my traces clean, so how do you know......? ”

Nan Wen was unusually calm and explained Wen Mo's confusion: "I guess." ”

Wen Mo: "??! ”

His eyes widened suddenly, and then a sad look appeared on his face, like a child who has lost her favorite toy, or a little girl who has been bullied, and she looks really wronged.

"Stinky girl...... I didn't expect you to come to trick me, you're too much, and I'm still answering your questions so seriously. ”

The corners of Nan Wen's lips have been hooked with a faint arc from just now to now: "But you didn't tell me how many Weibo fans you have, it doesn't seem to be very serious?" ”

Wen Moke was really stunned in an instant.

It seems that after thinking about it, I came up with what kind of answer I should give.

Some hesitated, and some hesitated: "Aren't I just afraid that the number of my Weibo fans will scare you, I'm worried about you, but you can't even see it, it's really a stinky kid with no conscience, alas, okay, since you want to know so much, then I'll tell you, in fact, my Weibo fans are ......"

Nan Wen laughed several times, although it was not loud, but it was very clear in this extremely quiet alley.

"Hey, Wen Mo, don't say it, I'm going to tease you."

Wen Mo was so red this time that even the tips of his ears seemed to be able to drip blood.

"Stinky little brat! Tell me again! I was so kind to tell you how many followers I have on Weibo, and now you're here to say you're kidding me! I'm sick! ”

Nan Wen pulled out a lollipop from the pocket of his school uniform, as if he had just bought it from a convenience store.

Throw it to Wen Mo: "Then why don't you talk about the number of fans?" ”

Wen Mo wilted down in an instant, took apart the candy paper of the lollipop, put it in his mouth, and looked even more cute with the lollipop in his mouth.

"Otherwise, don't do it, and I'll forgive you."

Nan Wen asked, "Who painted that picture you posted?" ”。

Wen Moyi didn't hesitate to sell the owner of the painting directly.