Song Hengjue glanced at Yang Qingheng, coughed lightly with his fist to his lips, stood up, and politely requested, "Hello, I'd like to buy you a sleeper berth. Would you mind giving me this spot?"
The big guy looked him up and down, rolled his eyes, and said, "So what if you're rich? I hate nouveau riche like you who talk about money all the time. Get out of my way and don't come near my seat."
Song Hengjue pursed his lips, stood up, subconsciously glanced at Yang Qingheng's profile, and reluctantly picked up the cloth bag and walked towards his seat, turning back every few steps, cursing Fang Nan in his heart.
What terrible seats did they pick?
When he sat down, he could only see half of Yang Qingheng's head from afar, which made him even angrier.
I'm increasingly certain that Fang Nan, that idiot, did it on purpose!
At the same time, Fang Nan, who was driving towards the capital, sneezed violently, rubbed his nose, and knew without a doubt who the culprit was.
A triumphant smile curled at the corners of his mouth.
That damned capitalist! He made him stand outside in the cold wind all night and then sent him back to Beijing, without even a raise. No wonder he can't get a woman.
On the train.
Yang Qingheng felt the intense, angry gaze behind her, pinched her brow, and found it somewhat amusing.
Several hours had passed, but he didn't seem to mind his tired eyes.
He glanced at his watch and waved to the train conductor not far away: "Hello, could you tell me what kind of lunch you have on your train?"
The train attendant quickly pushed the dining cart over and said enthusiastically, "We have white flour steamed buns, whole grain steamed buns, corn porridge, braised pork, and bok choy. Please see what you like."
Yang Qingheng was taken aback after hearing this: "Nothing else?"
The train conductor smiled and shook his head.
"Then give me a braised pork, a vegetable dish, and a steamed bun." Yang Qingheng hesitated for two seconds, then nodded.
The burly man next to him also casually ordered two coarse flour steamed buns.
The dishes were served quickly in square aluminum lunch boxes. Inside were braised pork and green vegetables. The steamed buns were wrapped in oil paper and looked decent, but you only realized how awful they tasted once you tasted them.
The braised pork wasn't tender and juicy; it was rather dry and had cooled down a bit. A thin layer of fat coated the surface, making it appear whitish.
After taking only one bite, Yang Qingheng felt her stomach churning. She quickly closed the lunchbox and obediently ate the white steamed buns she had bought. Although they didn't have much flavor, she could still eat a little with hot water so that she wouldn't go hungry.
"Pretentious." The burly man next to her was seeing someone complain about braised pork for the first time. He glanced at Yang Qingheng, took a big bite of his coarse flour bun, and showed a hint of disgust on his face.
Having seen too many rude people, Yang Qingheng was too lazy to argue with him. She deliberately opened her lunchbox and waved it in his eyes, but refused to eat, making him envious and his face even uglier.
Yang Qingheng almost burst out laughing, but her smile froze on her face after only a few minutes.
A strong aroma of food suddenly burst forth from the carriage, forcefully entering her nostrils.
Following the scent, what came into view was Song Hengjue's smug face.
Yang Qingheng: ...The steamed bun in my hand suddenly didn't taste good anymore.
"Eat or not? Eat or not? Yang Qingheng, do you want to eat?" Song Hengjue pressed his fist against his chin, smirking as he looked at her. His cheeky expression made one want to smash the steamed bun in their hand onto his face.
Yang Qingheng's smile froze. She took a bite of the white steamed bun in frustration and turned to look out the window.
...She endured it!
No, she really doesn't eat it?
Song Hengjue was taken aback, and fanned himself in her direction several times, making the fragrance in the private room even stronger, which drew angry glares from everyone.
The child at the next table, in particular, burst into tears.
"I don't care, I don't care, Mommy, I want to eat meat, waaaaah..."
"You good-for-nothing, aren't you ashamed? Shut up!" His mother slapped him on the head, his face flushed with embarrassment, and he didn't dare to look at the crowd.
The little kid didn't know anything about shame or disgrace; he immediately lay down and rolled on the ground, yelling loudly.
Yang Qingheng's head was throbbing from the noise, and before she could do anything, the burly man next to her angrily slammed his hand on the table: "Are you ever going to stop?!"
The boy on the ground was so frightened that he fell silent. The train conductor quickly ran over to restore order and gave Song Hengjue a long lecture. In the end, the man obediently put the table full of fragrant food back into his cloth bag.
Provoked by his words, everyone lost their appetite for the simple meals on the train. When they arrived at the next station, they grabbed their luggage and ran down to find something hot to satisfy their cravings.
The burly man returned carrying two bags of steamed dumplings. Seeing Yang Qingheng still sitting there, he pointed under the car and said, "If you don't go now, the train will leave soon, and we don't know when the next stop will be." He didn't believe this woman could keep eating steamed buns when she couldn't even eat braised pork.
Not destined for wealth and privilege, but plagued by pampered ailments.
"You're quite enthusiastic." Yang Qingheng raised her eyes, her gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Song Hengjue opposite her, a dark glint flashing in her eyes.
The burly man scratched the back of his head, his face burning, but... something about what he was saying just didn't sound right.
As the train was about to depart, everyone who had just gotten off returned to their seats.
Song Hengjue, carrying a bag of food and snacks, was dozing off, leaning against the car window. Finally, he saw Yang Qingheng waving at him, and he jumped up and ran over to her.
He smiled smugly: "What, regretting it? You promised me first."
"What is it? Tell me in detail." Yang Qingheng stood up, walked to the aisle, and grabbed the corner of the cloth bag.
"Well, what I told you at the hotel just now." Song Hengjue coughed lightly, feeling that people around him were looking at him, his face turned slightly red, and he muttered to himself.
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