Yan Ningke spent a few comfortable days at home, even going to hang out with Wen Shaoyu twice.
He took Lars there himself, without Shao Ke accompanying him.
Despite the unbearable summer heat, plenty of people still came to support Wen Shaoyu, making the golf course lively.
Dressed in a T-shirt and shorts with a sun hat on, Yan Ningke looked at Lars in the rest area, envy written all over his face.
Someone fanned the husky on the left, while a server on the right held fresh, large strawberries. In the middle, Lars reclined comfortably on the ground, eating them one after another.
It perfectly embodied that saying: sometimes making the right choice mattered more than working hard.
"Some people really do have all the luck. His legs are shot, but somehow he got in with the Wen family, and even that bootlicker he brings along has come up in the world."
"Tch, if it weren't for Young Master Wen, who'd want to stay here with people like that? It's seriously disgusting."
Yan Ningke swung his club experimentally and rolled his eyes in speechless disbelief. Did people not even bother keeping out of earshot when they bad-mouthed someone these days?
Or did he blend into the crowd so well that they couldn't spot him?
"Come to think of it, a cripple and a bootlicker make a perfect pair."
"Pfft, that mouth of yours. You're terrible."
Their shrill mockery grated unpleasantly on the ears.
Yan Ningke turned, leaning on his club. "I think so too."
The laughter didn't stop. Apparently, they really were doing it on purpose.
One of them, wearing sportswear emblazoned with a designer logo and holding a champagne glass, smiled mockingly. "Oh, did we hit a nerve? Feeling humiliated and angry?"
The other looked him up and