Wang Mingzheng was muttering to himself when a fifteen or sixteen-year-old walked towards him. He carried a backpack and had a pair of endearing dimples on his face, radiating youthful energy yet carrying an air of detachment.,Wang Ming didn't take any, but there was still one walnut left. This was because he had accidentally picked it up on the ground when he finished work yesterday. In Wang Ming's mind, picking something up and taking it were two different concepts. At this time, he naturally wouldn't let it go. He picked it up and left.,Wang Ming didn't seem like someone who liked to dwell on things. If he couldn't figure something out, he simply let it go, muttering to himself in his heart.。