Li Juan came to the noodle shop counter with her lips pursed to settle the bill, but Qiu Bojun beat her to it. "I'll pay, I'll pay."
Li Juan said politely, "No need, thank you."
Qiu Bojun said with a smile, "Hey, it's not much money. Our company has hospitality requirements. We're already deeply grateful that Team Leader Li gave us a chance to present our case today. It would be too improper to let you pay as well."
Li Juan counted out twenty-four yuan. "It's fine. We'll each pay our own."
"Ah? Then I'm truly too embarrassed, hehehe."
Qiu Bojun chuckled and did not insist further, but his gaze fell upon the wallet in Li Juan's hand.
There was not much money in the wallet. Only a few of the bills were large denominations, but there were several bank cards inside—rare in this era—and that wallet did not look like something that cost only a few hundred yuan.
Then he looked at Li Juan's shoulder bag and became even more puzzled. Though it was an unbranded leather bag, both its material and workmanship exuded the air of, "I am not cheap."
Was she honest and frugal, or was she vain and materialistic?
Qiu Bojun came from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, and his family was fairly well-off. Later, he had gone south to Pengcheng. Over the years, it was not as if he had never encountered people who "pretended to be tycoons without a penny to their name." Clothes and bags could be faked, but one's bearing was difficult to fake.
Because if you wanted to possess that kind of bearing that transcended social class, you needed the kind of lifestyle and attitude that transcended social class. You could not carry an LV bag out on the street, yet fear it