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王子欢用身子挤开超市门帘,宽粉似的帘子还在晃荡,人已经颠到十二级台阶下。他左臂夹着黑色公文包,右手时不常从兜里掏出纸巾,沿着眼眶和眼角揉。昨天超市开业,中午陪着贵客喝酒,估摸是因为吃了蟹肉炒粉丝,今早一起来,眼肿得葫芦似的,只剩下了一条缝儿。“这过敏体质,一点儿没谱儿,有时反应,有时就没事。这回可好,赶在最忙的节骨眼儿了。”王子欢心里翻腾出这些话,像是在自嘲。
The prince hurriedly crowded the curtain of the supermarket, the curtain of broad-powder flourish still sloshing, and the people had turned to twelve steps. He wore a black briefcase in his left arm, and often took out paper towels from his pocket and rubbed his eyes and eyes around his right hand. Yesterday the opening of the supermarket, accompanied by your guests at noon to drink, it is estimated that eating crab meat fried fans, together this morning, glowy gurgle, leaving only a crack child. “This allergy, a little outrageous, sometimes reaction, and sometimes nothing. This time is good, catch up in the busiest section of the bone.” "Prince Huan heart churn out these words, as if in self-deprecating.