At any rate, the two had become acquainted through a clash-no fight, no friendship.
As for the debt on the IOU, it still had not been paid off. Huang Yingying simply could not scrape together the money. His wife kept too tight a grip on the purse strings, and he was afraid of her, so he could only seize opportunities to steal a few bags of spirit rice to pay Wu Jinliang back.
Wu Jinliang could accept being repaid gradually in goods. He just could not eat it all himself, so he gave some to the library. But he could hardly keep delivering rice there, or its origin would become difficult to explain. Thus, he had accumulated quite a stock of spirit rice in the Storage Bag he kept on him.
Through these repeated dealings, and with their shared interests, they had grown familiar.
Seeing the old fellow still loitering outside at mealtime surprised Wu Jinliang somewhat. Was he not afraid that tigress would roar him to death?
He walked into the snack stall, glanced at the used bowls and plates, and snorted. "Old Huang, you have no money to repay your debts, but you have money to eat out?"
Huang Yingying sighed. "You know perfectly well how few coins I have on me. I have to keep a few for expenses when I'm running errands, don't I? Want a bowl of fish soup? My treat."
His stomach happened to be empty, and the other man was rarely this generous, so Wu Jinliang sat down opposite him, tacitly accepting the invitation.
Huang Yingying immediately waved. "Boss, a bowl of fish soup."
Soon, a bowl of fragrant fish soup, silky and tender and threaded with spiritual energy, arrived at the table. Wu Jinliang stood on no ceremony. This shameless old thing