Ling Pingan stood at the entrance and watched the young lover of ancient culture and traditions disappeared into the thick fog.
He sighed. "Sigh!"
"Loss! Loss! Loss!"
Although he had sold a book this time, he had only received about 20 handicrafts that could only be in his collection.
Other than that, he had also given out a flashlight worth three yuan.
He somewhat missed the customers the night before.
Walking back to the shop, Ling Pingan looked at the handicraft coins placed on the counter.
He then silently put them into the drawer.
After that, he comforted himself, "maybe these coins will bring me good luck!"
As a materialist, although Ling Pingan didn't believe in any weird feudal superstitions.
However, when it came to luck...
He somewhat believed in it.
After all, that was something that had been proven by experiments.