clear water

In the coffee shop where he came for the interview, Han Qiaoan stared intently at Wen Xingfeng's icy face, but Wen Xingfeng's icy face didn't respond at all. He stared until his eyes were sore and tearful that Han Qiaoan withdrew his gaze and rubbed his face. Rubbing eyes.

At first, Wen Xingfeng was able to block Han Qiaoan's attack with his paralyzed face, but when he looked at those "watery" eyes, Wen Xingfeng had to admit that he was cute, but it was a pity that Han Qiaoan lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. Seeing Wen Xingfeng's hooked lips.

Based on the essence of death, Han Qiaoan used Wen Xingfeng's bar as an excuse. Wen Xingfeng stayed behind after releasing the water, and worked as a waiter in the coffee shop with Xia Qingxuan.

Daily one:

Han Qiaoan was pouring coffee beans into the coffee machine as Wen Xingfeng said a second ago, but he started too aggressively, and the coffee beans filled the coffee machine at once, spilled a lot, and fell to the ground.

Han Qiaoan turned his head to look at Wen Xingfeng with a dark face in slow motion, "Gudu".

Wen Xingfeng looked at Han Qiao'an, then at the corpses of the coffee beans on the ground, "The ones that fell from the top-class Blue Mountain will count as five hundred for you."

Actually, more expensive.

Daily two:

Spreading powder, Wen Xingfeng demonstrated how to manually spread powder, backed away, and signaled Han Qiaoan to come with his eyes, Han Qiaoan rolled up his sleeves, this is simple, just pat.

Ten seconds later, the coffee powder in the handle was full, and there was a lot of coffee around it, and Wen Xingfeng's cold voice came from next to his ear, "It's high-quality and elegant, not much is spilled, count it as a hundred."

Han Qiaoan pouted and looked at Wen Xingfeng aggrievedly, "You didn't say you couldn't fill it up."

Wen Xingfeng's eyes darkened, and he turned his head, "Cough, so I only count one hundred for you."

Daily three:

Wen Xingfeng looked at Han Qiaoan who was able to smoothly get the right amount of coffee powder with satisfaction, "Okay, let's continue loading it."

Two seconds later, Han Qiaoan stared wide-eyed at the handle rolling on the ground and the coffee powder scattered all over the floor, Wen Xingfeng's voice came from above his head, with faint anger in his voice, "It was finally airlifted from Indonesia. The civet cat shit coffee beans, this handle, a month's wages."

Han Qiaoan raised his head abruptly. He had only been working for two months. He forcibly lost half of his salary, with tears in his eyes, "It's not my fault, why didn't you tell me the direction to twist."

Wen Xingfeng raised his eyebrows, "You are stupid, don't push it on me, the excuse is not valid."

Han Qiaoan felt wronged, smashed the jar, grabbed Wen Xingfeng's hand and said, "Zhou Papi!"

ran away.

It has been half a month since Han Qiaoan stumbled and stumbled and finally managed to make a drinkable cup of coffee independently, and after deducting two months' wages, only [-] was left.

On this day, Xia Qingyu, the frontman, came a little late because of something. Han Qiaoan not only made coffee but also delivered it to him. Then, he held the plate with one hand for the sake of a handsome person, and then let go of his hand when it was about to arrive. Fortunately, the coffee Did not spill on the guests.

Seeing Wen Xingfeng getting closer and closer, Han Qiaoan had nothing to love, waiting for her salary to be cleared, only to hear Wen Xingfeng apologize to the guest, and then said to Han Qiaoan, "Clean it up."

With just four words, Han Qiaoan thought he heard it wrong, and grabbed Han Qiaoan's sleeve, "It's gone?"

Wen Xingfeng raised his eyebrows, and a smile flashed in his eyes, "Ah, by the way, a glass of Mandheling, eighty."

Han Qiaoan let go of Wen Xingfeng, resigned himself to cleaning, and cursed himself for talking too much.

When the salary was paid in the first month, Han Qiaoan looked at the thickness of Xia Qingzheng's envelope, and then looked at his own, pursed his mouth, pouted, and said "I'm happy" all over his face.

Back in the dormitory, Han Qiaoan opened the envelope. There was really only 920, but there was still a piece of paper inside: Remaining salary collection place.

This sentence was followed by a string of addresses, hesitating, not understanding what Wen Xingfeng meant, but remembering the feeling that someone said a word in the past month would make his flesh hurt, so he went anyway.

In the evening, Han Qiaoan rang the bell of the villa in front of him, and the door opened automatically. Han Qiaoan closed the door and walked in. The door had already been opened for him. As soon as he entered, he saw Wen Xingfeng waiting for him with his legs crossed.

The author has something to say:

There is meat in the next chapter, but I don’t know if Jinjiang can release it. Try it.