He tricked his amnesiac partner into becoming crippled.

Chapter 283 The Cold-Faced Handsome Guy Downstairs Enters My Dream 2

Wen Yan opened her eyes wide, looking blank and bewildered.

This is the first time someone has said she has a loud voice.

Those who work in the service industry are subconsciously expected to be more tolerant of others' demands, so they unconsciously lower their voices.

"Okay, okay, I'll keep my voice down."

The soft voice felt like stepping lightly on something; it was not only soft but also sweet.

But Chen Yan's face darkened even more; in addition to the darkening, he also had a headache.

He realized that he had communication barriers with the group.

"It's not you, it's the shop." A concise explanation.

Wen Yan glanced back at the bustling shop, then turned to look at him. If the shop wasn't bustling, it meant there were few customers, and the shop would lose money.

Doesn't this man even know this?

Although she didn't understand, directly confronting people wasn't her style, so she subtly offered a hint:

"Well... that's how it is when you open a shop. It's lively when there's noise, but if there's no noise, I'll be crying."

Does this mean that things can't be coordinated?

Chen Yan's upper teeth itched, and he pressed his tongue against them. His deep gaze seemed to shroud him like a black curtain, and Wen Yan trembled under his gaze.

Why does he seem even angrier?

How come he's so popular now?

She didn't say anything even when he banged on the door.

Wen Yan wanted to retort and break the oppressive atmosphere to make herself seem more reasonable, but when she saw the man's tall figure, the taut and powerful muscles in his arms, the cold and hard facial features, and the gloomy gaze, she became a coward again.

Never mind, harmony brings wealth.

Amidst the clanging and banging, one shout stood out: "Boss! Boss! The musket fell to the ground!!"

what? !

Wen Yan didn't have time to be subtle with this cold-faced handsome guy, and turned around and ran into the store.

This is a musket! It's fine if it falls to the ground, but it will catch fire if it's near flammable materials!

"Don't rush, don't rush, everyone move away from that area, I'm coming right now!"

In a few swift movements, Chen Yan watched as the creature ran away.

He stood at the door watching her busy herself.

He was busy here and there, sometimes bending down to talk, sometimes tapping with silver, with a clingy black cat following behind him.

Now I finally know why we were arguing.

So this is not only a shop, but also a blacksmith shop.

After waiting for a while without any response, Chen Yan realized that he had been completely ignored.

I sighed deeply, glanced at my watch, and saw it was 8:20. Time to go to the store.

With a resentful look on his face, still feeling unwell, he went home to wash his face, change his clothes, and head to the shop.

Wen Yan, who had finally managed to relax for a little while, sat down, then remembered that someone had been waiting by the side door, so she jumped up and ran over.

The person has left.

Wen Yan breathed a sigh of relief; it was good that he was gone.

San San chased after it, jumped onto its shoulder, and after a few weak meows, closed its eyes and moved its mouth slightly: "Master, I'm sleepy."

"Go to sleep if you're sleepy." Wen Yan stroked the cat and closed the door again.

The original owner was a self-media creator, a small blogger with hundreds of thousands of followers on Douyin and other social media platforms. Most of the store's customers came from his fans, and some were also recommended by his fans.

Actually, there were no guests originally going to experience hands-on silver making; it was added after Wen Yan came, and the results were surprisingly good.

The key thing is that the person who lived downstairs for several days finally came to our door.

At 9:30 p.m., fewer and fewer people came, and it was past 10 p.m. when the last couple left.

They took out a "Closed" sign and hung it at the main entrance, then thought for a moment and hung another one at the side entrance.

The shop was brightly lit with the lights on, exuding a Miao ethnic charm. Inside, a person and a cat sat together.

Wen Yan skillfully took out the equipment to broadcast live, her slender, lotus-white fingers shaping silver pieces into various designs: maple leaves, willow branches, vines, and of course, bells.

Bells are the most common type of bell.

She has a pair of extremely beautiful hands, not only pleasing to the eye but also skillful. The silver pieces are exceptionally obedient in her hands. She explains as she works, and her gentle and persuasive manner is like that of someone soothing someone to sleep.

"Making silver jewelry requires patience and care. The hammering should be gentle, and you should use tweezers to shape the silver bar while it's still soft..."

Listening to her speak is a pleasure.

The live stream is mostly attracted by the sound and the gestures, with people happily calling each other "wife".

The increasingly explicit words made her pause, her eyelashes trembled, and her cheeks turned pink.

The fans are just too enthusiastic.

She underestimated the openness of people on the internet who have taken off their masks.

She hasn't shown her face yet, but she's already so awkward when she speaks and shows her fingers. I wonder what she'll be like when she finally shows her face.

Wen Yanteng reached out and pinched his own face. When he let go, he could still feel the touch of his fingers on his cheek.

I glanced at the time; it was 11:30.

It was getting late, so I put down my tools, said goodbye to my fans, ended the live stream, packed up, and rode my electric scooter home.

The night breeze made their watery eyes even more moist, and San San peeked out from behind the cat carrier to enjoy the feeling of going for a ride.

I got home around midnight, quickly washed up, and lay down.

After tossing and turning a couple of times, she suddenly opened her eyes. In her mind was the man's cool and handsome face from tonight, with his exposed muscle lines. He must have a pretty amazing physique.

A cold face moving waist, sweat dripping down cheeks and then casually wiped away with fingers—it's such a vivid image.

Wen Yan tossed and turned a few times before finally falling asleep.

The dream woven in my mind, with Chen Yan as the main character, has only just begun...

She was pulled into the man's lap with one hand, her chin lifted, his large hand covering her doe-like eyes, very close, then he gripped her neck and whispered devilishly:

I hope your shop is completely empty.

Wen Yan struggled, her hand moved down again, but her vision was still blocked. She touched something soft, which made her soul tremble.

I opened my eyes with a start; it was morning.

"buzzing"

My phone vibrated next to my ear.

Wen Yan patted her burning face, wondering what kind of dreams she was having.

I picked up the phone and glanced at it; the contact name was: Mom.

"Mom," she called out as she answered the phone, her voice a little hoarse from just waking up.

"You're still not up? It's 8:30. Hurry up and get up and go downstairs for breakfast. I have to remind you every day. Your stomach is your own responsibility. It'll be too late to cry when you get sick." Wen's mother muttered with a frown.

"Okay, Mom." Wen Yan turned on the speakerphone, put the phone aside, and slowly got up to get dressed and wash up.

Hearing soft rustling sounds beside her ear, Wen's mother knew her daughter had gotten up before hanging up the phone. Then, remembering something, she added a few words:

"Call your dad after dinner; he keeps talking about you."

Wen Yan stopped washing her face, feeling a bit helpless. Her father has never supported her starting a business and opening a shop, and he doesn't like live streaming either.

The older generation felt this was too risky. Besides, they had watched Wen Yan's live stream and were furious just from reading the comments. They directly ordered: Stop broadcasting, stop doing it. Taking the civil service exam is a much more stable option than anything else.

The result was that the original owner strongly opposed it.

The original owner was shy and quiet, but stubborn and opinionated; not even ten oxen could sway a cute girl like that.

Wen's father was furious, and the father and daughter had a cold war for several months.

Wen Yan sighed deeply: "Mom, you know Dad. He's still angry. He won't want to talk to me until I give in to him."

After hearing this, Wen's mother looked at Wen's father, who was smoking beside her, with an expression that said, "I've done my best, but your daughter doesn't want to talk to you."

Wen's father grunted a few times and walked away with great fanfare.

Wen Yan seemed to hear someone getting up and moving around, and realized something: "Was Father just here?"

"uh-huh."

Suddenly, a headache struck again. "Mom, why didn't you remind me?"

Wen's mother: "Why should I remind you? Just do it your way. The old man is as stubborn as a donkey. Young people have their own ideas, and he just interferes."

“My father was worried about me too.”

"Why are you being stubborn with him if you're worried about him?"

Wen Yan fell silent.

No wonder the father and daughter are both so stubborn, neither willing to back down first.

Mother Wen, however, had some leisure time: "Let's see which of you two stubborn donkeys will bow your head and eat grass first."

"Grandma!"