"They're not doing well. Nowadays, antiques, calligraphy, all that stuff, they're worthless."
Wang Hao took a sip of noodles, speaking somewhat helplessly.
"Huh? So how are they doing now?"
At this moment, the duck blood noodles Sun Yaoyao ordered also arrived. As for Wu Zicheng and the like, she wasn't very concerned.
It was just idle chatter after all.
"Old Wu became a beggar, Zhou Tingyu is working as a hostess in a nightclub."
"Pfft!"
Sun Yaoyao spit out her noodles directly.
The spiritual barrier blocked the soup, which then formed into a ball, encapsulating it.
Wang Hao looked at Sun Yaoyao with exasperation, slightly scolding:
"What are you so jumpy about? Want to spray it all over my face?"
"Aiya, I didn't do it on purpose."
Sun Yaoyao pouted, "You sprayed it on my face before and I didn't mind."
"Uh..."
Wang Hao showed a hint of embarrassment on his face and continued:
