Doudu lamented, and could only retreat weakly,

I have started to search for dramas that are more worthy of my IQ on the entire network.

And just as Dudu was watching various so-called high-IQ dramas in the space,

The last program at the New Year's Eve party has come to an end.

The countdown is about to begin for the past year.

The man who hadn't moved much since he finished eating the dumplings suddenly took out a red envelope from his pocket.

Amid the fireworks all over the sky after "Three Two One" on TV, I smiled and handed it to her leisurely:

"Happy New Year, Destined."

Mo Ran took the thin little red envelope and once he got it, he showed a clear expression:

"bank card?"

"Yes." The man nodded seriously:

"I saw it on the Internet that good men have to pay wage cards, but I don't have a wage card.

But with all the savings cards of my net worth, the profits of the company belong to me will be made into every year.

It should also be called a salary card.

Anyway, the password is your birthday.”

When he said this, his eyes were bright and he looked like a big boy:

"Remember to give me pocket money in the future, otherwise I will become a pauper."

Mo Ran gently curled the corners of his lips and pinched his face:

"Do you have private money?"

The man looked at her with some confusion for a while, and finally nodded honestly:

"Those are for you to prepare gifts and surprises. If you want to buy gifts for you, you have to ask for money first, and there will be no surprises."

Mo Ran:...

It's so cute that it's overwhelming.

After patting his head, Mo Ran was very generous:

"It's okay, it doesn't matter if you save more or you secretly buy milk powder."

Yi Beichen:...

This joke seems to have to be played for a long time.

He bent his lips helplessly and docilely, and his fingertips moved slightly.

Mo Ran then realized that the somewhat ancient tray he brought over before actually brought a small drawer.

He gently pulled out, then he took out a small stack of envelopes and handed them to her:

"I promised you one love letter a year."

Mo Ran was slightly stunned. After taking the small stack, his expression was a bit strange:

"So you want to be lazy and write more at once, and don't have to write more for the next ten years?"

Yi Beichen pressed his eyebrows helplessly, and finally couldn't help but pat her head gently:

"Can you count how many seals are here?"

Mo Ran looked at him suspiciously, lowered his head and began to count the envelopes.

She counted quickly, three in groups, and after a few strokes, she came to the conclusion: "Nineteen Seals."

"Yeah, nineteen letters."

He hugged her, lowered his head and kissed her gently.

The corners of the lips and eyes were filled with unconcealed smiles:

"One letter a year, Mo Xiaoran, it's already New Year's Day, you're going to be nineteen this summer."

Mo Ran's eyes widened slightly. He probably didn't expect that this man's annual letter would start from when she was born.

Regardless of his still in his arms, his posture was a little awkward.

She lowered her head and looked like that, she was planning to start unpacking the envelope.

The man pressed her with quick eyes and hands, and his elegant face was full of helplessness:

"How can you disassemble love letters in front of others? You can't read them when you're alone?"

Mo Ran stared at his slightly red ears for a few seconds,
Chapter completed!