In This Life, I Only Push Joan of Arc

Page 7

He quickly lifted his cuffs and walked in, grabbed the hammer and smashed it.

It's a little heavy, and it's a little inconvenient to smash it because of the height.

But for the gift, fight.

In the [-]'s, Luo Ang was already gasping for breath, his face was sweaty, hot and tired.

The big man just watched with more interest while holding the water glass.

"It's the first time I've seen a stinky brat of your age with such strength. Not bad. Speaking of which, what did you just say you were going to do?"

boom!

Loon smashed again,

"A small cross hanging around the neck."

"what do you need?"

He gasped a little, and said, is this hammer called a hammer?He only moved with both hands.

"It's best to be durable, not fading and not easily deformed."

"Probably know, okay, don't smash it."

The big man stepped forward to stop him,

"How long will it take?"

"In two days."

"Oh, the stinky boy is also greedy, okay, just two days."

The big man looks in a good mood.

"You come to me to help me in the past two days, and I will give you the finished product in the afternoon the day after tomorrow, you know?"

Luo An immediately looked happy,

"Thank you."

Facts have proved that hard work pays off, that is, the work is really hard and tiring.

When he got home, Luo An was already a little disheartened. Fortunately, he wiped his face with ice water on the way by the river.

But he felt that the skin on his face was about to be frozen.

"Lon!"

When he returned to the house, Darke's expression seemed a little proud.

"what happened?"

He looked at each other strangely. In order not to let the other party notice his frozen hands and nose, after approaching the house, Lon rubbed himself with heat in an invisible place nearby to warm himself, at least the red nose should not be too obvious.

Let Dalk say to him,

"Put out your hand."

Loon stretched out his hand suspiciously.

"Spread out."

"What's the matter?"

Even though he asked so, he did it anyway.

Then the girl held his palm with one hand, and the other hand stretched out her index finger and then drew something on his hand, some warm, some soft,

"How about your name, right?"

Looking at her strokes, Luo Ang suddenly felt a little funny. Although it was right, it was really difficult to write.

"What are you laughing at? What's wrong?"

"No no."

He shook his head.

"What about your own?"

The girl's face froze, and then she hesitated to draw on his hand.

I can probably write it, but there are words wrong.

Luo An grabbed her hand with a backhand, and the latter did not resist.

He spread out the opponent's hand,

"I've been learning my name for a few years, but I still can't. That's how it's written."

I wrote stroke by stroke, but I didn't notice the girl's red cheeks. I don't know if it was because of the weather or the atmosphere.