"Excellent."
Wang Yan looked up and raised an eyebrow at Yang Xiaoyun.
"You really have no shame. Who praises themselves like that?"
"Men can't have skin that's too thin. How did that saying go? Thick-skinned people never go hungry..."
"Thin-skinned people go hungry."
"To make it in the world, you have to rely on a thick skin." Wang Yan nodded with a smile.
Yang Xiaoyun laughed. "So there aren't any good people in society, then? Everyone's thick-skinned."
"That's not entirely true, but it is true that people who care too much about saving face have a hard time making money."
Yang Xiaoyun paused, perhaps thinking of her birth mother. She had made quite a bit renting a place to Mila, then made another cut from the renovations, and yet another from buying furniture. Sure enough, if you were too thin-skinned, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.
So she changed the subject and asked, "Brother Yan, then tell me—are you a good person?"
"I can only say I'm not a bad one."
"Very clear self-positioning." Yang Xiaoyun giggled, then asked, "It seems like ever since I met you, you've always been smiling. Don't you have anything bothering you?"
"There are plenty of bothersome things, but I can't keep crying all the time, can I? Your face has to wear some expression. Smiling is definitely more comfortable—good for you, good for me, good for everyone."
"So how do you get through it when things bother you?"
"You endure it. Time smooths over everything. After being bothered long enough, you stop feeling it."
"You really are strong." Yang Xiaoyun sighed. "Mila told me all about it. I think Brother Yan, you really haven't had it easy these past years."
Instead of the response she had expected, all she saw was Wang Yan