"Nan Mo?!"

Confucius took the ink stick and looked at Jiang Shanhe in shock, "This, this, this..."

"I got it by accident. I thought of you the first time, so I sent it to you. Don't think it's too small."

Confucius hurriedly shook his head, almost shaking his head down, "I don't mind it, I don't mind it~"

If a person has Nan Mo in his hand, he can exchange the size of a fingernail for a house.

This is not a joke,

The content of this chapter is being updated...