At four thirty that afternoon, on the way back to Xu Youyue's home.
Jun Wangchen looked at the text message on his phone, his face twisting into a sneer.
You kicked me out, and now you want to invite me back? Ha! Do you take me for a fucking idiot?
I'm a descendant of the dragon, an heir of Nüwa, a child of the Yan and Yellow Emperors, a son of Huaxia, a beautiful blossom of the motherland. If apologies fixed everything, what would I need dignity for?
What's money worth? No matter how rich you are, can your damned money compare to my magnificent self-respect?
Let me make this clear right now. I've always regarded money as dirt. Money, that mere status symbol, is something I can take or leave. Compared to my magnificent self-respect, it's just a...
Mid-rant, Jun Wangchen's inner monologue abruptly stopped. He felt as though he had stepped on something enticing.
He looked down and jolted in surprise.
Ten yuan!
Scanning his surroundings, Jun Wangchen bent down as though no one were watching and picked up the ten-yuan note someone had dropped. He furtively slipped it into his pocket, then continued walking as if nothing had happened.
Ahem. Now, where were we?
Fuck, money means jack shit to me. Trying to humiliate me with money? Dream on!
Reader (No Homework in My Dreams): "Even if I jumped into the sea and my corpse refused to float for seven days, I'd still have to fucking hand it to you!"
After guiltily indulging in another private bout of righteous indignation, Jun Wangchen stopped dawdling in the street. He would get to the market early to sell vegetables, then head back early to tease Xu Youyue and soothe his earlier irritation.
He had just passed an intersection when