Butong told Tang poetry exactly what happened last night.

after listening to Tang poetry, the hand holding the steering wheel could not help clenching and frowning, "he really stayed downstairs for a few days and apologized to you in a low voice?"

Butong leaned his head against the window and said softly, "I can't say that he is a man with a low voice. You know, he was born with a high voice. It's impossible to be a man with a low voice. How to describe it... I just think that sometimes when he faces me, he is careful of his wings, for fear of making me unhappy.

and he...