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Yin Qian

A leaf floated to Guo Xing's feet with the wind and was crushed by his foot. There are not many pedestrians in the street, but they are swept into the warm room by the cold autumn wind.

Wearing a fur coat in the morning, wrapped in gauze in the afternoon and eating watermelon around the stove is a true portrayal of the weather in Xinjiang. Today itself is a cold air invasion, and it is getting dark. Guo Xing is walking at a brisk pace, trying to find a warmer house quickly. He is dressed a little loosely today.

"Mr. Wang is lucky to live a long life." A voice rang around Guo Xing, who glanced at him. He is a fortune teller, wearing a thick sweater, his hands are cold in his sleeves, and his face is upturned and he shouts at Guo Xing. On the gray beard, there is a crystal nose.

Guo Xing turned his head and looked back. A grandfather in his fifties came from behind. It turned out that he was an old man, so he didn't stop and continued to drive his way.

Guo Xing got a fright when the skirt was suddenly caught. Turning around, I saw the old man, who turned out to be a fortune teller, smiling and saying, "Sir, you are lucky today and you will live a long life."

Guo Xing looked back at him. Now sellers are becoming more and more sophisticated. Looking at a man who looked a little kind, he stepped forward to gain sympathy.

Sure enough, the old man dragged him to the booth. In fact, it's just a picture that is a little unclear. ...