Yan Li laughed angrily: "Oh, you're right, I'm stupid, I shouldn't have asked you this at all, you're just a rice bucket, you don't know how to appreciate, and it's my gaffe to belittle yourself for a person like you." She turned around and left.

"Wait!" Dowling stopped her, "I don't know how to appreciate?" He jumped off the pyre, picked up a few pieces of wood and threw them into the nearby fire.

As the room grew warmer and brighter, Dowling closed the door and jumped back onto his state-room seat: "Do you know what art is? Art is to be appreciated by both the elegant and the vulgar! As a performer, do you still have the right to pick and choose your audience? If you can't conquer your audience standing up, just lie down and conquer them, it's much easier."

"You!" Yan Li's face turned red, but she was speechless, and Dowling's rogue logic worked wonders again.

Dowling cocked Erlang's legs: "I don't know how to appreciate? Then do you think those boys and brothers understand? Do I have to say everything so clearly and so explicitly?"

"Humph! Is there anything else you can't say?" Yanli asked this question very well, and the answer should be no

Dowling said earnestly, "Hey, I'll give you an example and you'll understand, for example, you like me."

"Phew! Who's like you?!"

Dowling slapped his forehead with a slap, "Okay, let's say, I like you."

"Shameless," Yan Li whispered, but it seemed that this assumption was more acceptable to her.

Dowling said impatiently, "Are you finished? Say you're fat and you're still panting? Are you still listening to me?"

Yan Li snorted and stopped interrupting him.

So Dowling continued, "Let's say, I like you and desperately want to use your body to extinguish the burning *** in me."

With a "snap", Dowling was slapped in the face.

He sighed, "Well, in fact, it is not to the point of urgency, let's describe it as a morning and a twilight, and a difficult sleep

So as a suitor, I have to get your attention, what can I do? Obviously, doing what you like is a good way, so I come to listen to you every night, no matter how you sing, anyway, I just praise you desperately, and those who read books also say a lot of nonsense, and the subtext is actually "I'm your number one fan, girl, and I hope to be as close as I can get to you."

"Fans?"

"Well, in the local dialect, it is the people who worship and love you."

"You mean, it doesn't matter how well I sing, no matter what I do, they'll say yes?"

Dowling nodded, "That's right, those guys, on the surface, are very courteous to you, but in fact they are extremely filthy inside, and all their disguises are just to achieve their ulterior ultimate purpose."

Yan Li bit her lip tightly: "Hmph, then you never look at my running hall, but you are a righteous gentleman, and your heart is like water?"

"Awards" Dowling is really ashamed.

"After all that, you mean nothing more than that I sing badly, so you're too lazy to listen, right?"

"No, no, no." Dowling replied very sincerely, "I mean, your Yan'er's song is indeed good, but it is far less popular than you."

Yan Li's chest was obviously undulating, and she could only calm her mind by taking a deep breath, because she was a smart person, and she knew that this crazy running hall in front of her, which no one could look at, said all the truth.

Many things in this world are actually obvious, but whether you accept them or not is another matter

The two were silent for a long time, but Yan Li spoke again: "I believe in you, you are not my enemy, maybe we can be friends."

Since that night, the smile has returned to Yan Li's face, untying a knot, and she doesn't care about Daolin's performance anymore.

A few more days passed, and on a rainy afternoon, the old bustard called Dowling over.

"Xiaoliu is not feeling well, you take her across the street to see the doctor."

"Aren't you afraid I'll run away?"

"Less nonsense! Let you go!"

"Yes, yes"

Dowling felt inexplicable, did he seem to be such a reliable and easy bully?

In fact, the old bustard really thought like this, because in the past month, Dowling has been extremely honest, and he has never stepped out of the Drunken Star Building at all, and he can be called hard-working and resentful when he does his work, so he has left a pretty good impression.

In fact, the old bustard didn't know that the reason why Dowling stayed here was because he had nowhere to go, and he didn't want to run out of this green building, but because he wanted to run out of this world

Dowling held up the paper umbrella and carried the little willow girl on his back to the medical hall across the street with the sign "Holy Hand of Gynecology" written on it.

In ancient times, a woman in a green house like Xiaoliu who had wrapped her little feet could be said to be very hard-working, and her movement was extremely inconvenient on weekdays. On weekdays, it is inevitable to be infected with some dirty diseases, or be forced to drink the safflower soup to have an abortion, the former may endanger life, and the latter will cause great physical and mental pain, and when it comes to old age and decay, it can not receive customers, and no one redeems it, so it can only marry a turtle slave.

Dowling does have some sympathy for these women, although in the eyes of those prostitutes, whether it is *** or turtle slaves, none of them are regarded as human beings, but Dowling always gives these women the least respect, because he understands that those who are willing to fall are far more *** than those who can't help themselves.

"Anyone?" Dowling walked into the medical hall, but he didn't find half a figure.

"Here we are." A slouchy voice came from inside the house.

As soon as Dowling heard the man's words, his face immediately changed, and he said to himself, "No, this voice is."

walked out of the back hall and yawned in front of the guests without hesitation: "Hey, this rainy weather just can't lift your energy, is this girl sick?" You put her down."

But Dowling stood there motionless, still muttering, "I should have thought of opening a gynecology clinic across the street from the brothel, and with such a bold signboard, who else could there be?"

"This little brother, can't you hear me?"

"Steelhammer! What else do you pack? Say it! What's going on? Why does it happen in a group crossing? Isn't it some kind of conspiracy you're playing?"

An imperceptible look of alertness flashed in Steelhammer's eyes, but his tone remained the same: "What Steelhammer Dog's? I've heard of Master Rabbit, do you even see the disease? Don't look at people and leave."

After saying this, Gangyi turned around, but his eyes were a little puzzled.

(After reading it, remember to bookmark it for next time!)