A man with OCD

"Thank you, officer mu." Su Yue took it. He didn't want it at first, but mu weibai's cigarette was a little strange. It was slightly longer than ordinary men's cigarettes, and there were no words or symbols around the cigarette. It was snow-white, and from a distance, it looked like an elongated chalk.

"Why isn't there a brand? is it self-made?" su Yue asked.

yes, self-made. The cigarettes sold outside don't taste good enough. It just so happens that my relatives in my hometown have a kind of tobacco, so I asked them to make some for me.

"That's convenient for Yingying."

The two of them were like ordinary people they met on the street, casually chatting about some seemingly unrelated issues. When the cigarette was finished, mu weibai pressed the cigarette butt into the Golden ashtray.