December 30th, Monday.
"According to folklore, 'A son should be like Sun Zhong Mou' isn't Cao Cao praising Sun Quan. The real meaning is 'That one must raise a Sun Quan', and it's actually cursing him."
"Tsk, that's not a wrong translation, but if you ask me, a son should be like Bai Bufan!"
"The dragon has nine sons, each different; Bufan has two rows of 'naitou,' if you ask me, he's the real deal."
Lin Li, who just entered the classroom and heard this, found it hard to keep a straight face.
Bufan's racial advantage is still too strong.
Indeed.
Two rows VS two, the advantage is mine!
But if you really count it, Bao Wei has the bigger advantage, since dogs usually have 8-12, but pigs are generally in the 12-18 range.
"Why are you staring at my chest? It's kind of creepy, Lin Li!" Sensing someone's gaze, Zhou Baowei shrank and looked at him warily.
"Bao Wei, what's your blood sugar level?"
"Why are you asking that?"
