Chapter 28
One piece of clothing was definitely not enough, so when I passed by a pawn shop, I went in and took off my earrings.
To prevent the blond youth from escaping while I wasn't looking, I forcibly took his hand and went inside together.
He seemed to have something to say, but I interrupted him before he could speak, threatening him without warning:
"You certainly don't want to start arguing with me in the street, do you?"
As expected, the strength of his struggles gradually decreased after those words were spoken.
I pulled him inside with satisfaction.
Losing a couple of pieces of jewelry isn't a big deal for me. Rather than pawning, I walked into the store with the intention of selling these items from the start.
After selling the earrings, I hesitated for a moment before taking off the necklace and bracelet as well.
The necklace had a hidden clasp, so I had to lift my long hair and ask the shop assistant to help me take it off.
"Do you want to pawn all of these?" the shopkeeper asked me again to confirm. "I'll give you 500,000 kyats in total, what do you think?"
To be honest, I'm not really sure about the pricing. For me, these things are basically like waking up to find them suddenly in my jewelry box.
However, I vaguely remember that this set of jewelry was not expensive, because I have a history of frequently losing things. Whenever I go on a short trip, the maid would habitually pack up the less important jewelry in the corner for me.
"No problem." I nodded perfunctorily, picked up the pen, and was about to sign.
The blond youth who had been standing silently to the side suddenly reached out and pressed his hand down on me.
I looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“That’s too little,” he said. “This necklace alone is worth more than 500,000 jinn.”
"Really?" I was a little confused.
“This style,” he said, pointing to the necklace, “was based on a portrait of a duchess from the old dynasty…”
He launched into a long, rambling monologue about design masters, design philosophies, and gemstone cutting—I can't even remember the last time I'd heard such a long speech.
Finally, without me even understanding what had happened, the original 500,000 jini skyrocketed to 8 million.
The shop owner's face changed from a cheerful expression to a gloomy, ashen one.
I suspect that I and the young people around me will be blacklisted by him.
...After signing the papers and getting up to leave the store, I finally asked my first question after the transaction:
"Are you a jewelry appraiser or an auction appraiser? How do you know so much?"
For some reason, the blond youth sighed deeply and gave me a helpless look:
"Even an ordinary person can see that the price of 500,000 jin of ni is unreasonable."
"It's alright..." I said nonchalantly, "Anyway, I didn't earn these things myself."
So it doesn't matter how many I sell, I don't care at all.
"And what about this ring?" I suddenly thought of something and excitedly held out my hand to him, gesturing for him to look at my engagement ring. "How much could this sell for? Could it fetch a million?"
“…No,” he ruthlessly struck me with the harsh truth, “this is just a very ordinary ring. In terms of market price, it’s probably just the cost of the metal plus a little processing fee. Besides, the craftsmanship doesn’t look very good.”
I knew it.
I took my hand back angrily and muttered: "I just said that I would not be happy if I married someone who beat my enemy. Look at how casual the engagement ring they gave me was."
The blond youth's eyes flickered.
“However,” he said hesitantly, “judging from the marks, this could be the work of a novice.”
I:""
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He was silent for a moment, then lowered his eyes, turned his face away, and said calmly:
"It's nothing... I've already pawned the things. Can you let me go now?"
That's when I realized that I was still holding his arm in my arms.
After a brief moment of thought, I smiled at him.
“No,” I refused his suggestion without hesitation, “I still have new clothes to buy.”
“…I have other things to do.” He tried to pull his hand back.
I held his hand tightly: "What's the big deal? It's just finding a job. I have money now."
I took out the check I had just received from my pocket and waved it in front of him:
"Instead of going through all that trouble to get around, why not just become my bodyguard! What's the difference between making money off me and making money off others?"
He was taken aback by my question and paused for a moment.
I seized the opportunity and led him forward, saying, "Okay, it's settled then!"
Over the next few days, I visited several more stores, buying clothes, new jewelry, and then shoes.
The blond youth followed silently behind me, his hands stuffed with shopping bags by me. At first glance, he really did look a bit like a bodyguard.
While waiting for the shop assistant to pack up my shoes, I smiled at him, resting my chin on my hand: "If I weren't running away from home right now, I would definitely have the housekeeper hire you."
He patiently pretended not to hear that, and only asked, "Have you bought enough?"
"If you're looking to buy something, that should be enough for now..." The shop assistant handed me a paper bag. I smiled and gave her a knowing look, and she immediately understood, handing the bag to the tall, slender young man standing to the side.
"I'm going to get a haircut!" I announced my new plan to him.
He finally couldn't hold back any longer; a hint of anger flashed across his face again. He took a breath, as if about to say something—
"Please," I said, putting my hands together and softening my tone before he could scold me, "I'll pay you your salary. I just wanted to have some fun before the wedding... You know, my fiancé's family is really horrible. If you leave me, I might die in their house in a few days."
he:"……"
The anger in his eyes suddenly froze, gradually evolving into helplessness.
He sighed.
I know this is his way of showing he's ready to compromise.
Seizing the opportunity, I immediately grabbed his sleeve and hurried outside, asking expectantly as we went:
Do you think it would look good if I dyed my hair the same color as yours?
"...This will do."
"But I don't like it, I want to change the color."
"what ever."
...
I kept rambling on and on, and the blond youth replied to me intermittently, sounding very tired.
When I arrived at the location and had just finished discussing the haircut plan with the hairstylist, I turned around and found that he was already sitting in the seat next to me, quietly asleep.
I stared at him for a while before I realized that his bangs were actually almost past his eyes, but they usually got blown up by the wind, so they looked like a normal length.
I need to get a haircut.
However, it seems inappropriate to change his hairstyle without his consent.
I pretended not to see anything and let the hairdresser fix my hair first.
After everything was over, I turned around and found that the young man buried in his bags had quietly woken up at some point and was flipping through the magazines on the table.
It's a really boring fashion magazine, and it was published a few months ago.
“What’s so interesting about this?” I snatched the book from his hand without any politeness. “Look at me.”
He slowly raised his head and looked at me, just as I had asked.
I blinked expectantly at him and leaned closer.
He leaned back, and as if he had thought of something, his face suddenly turned multicolored, which was quite strange.
"Is it good-looking?" I didn't care about anything else and just asked him directly.
He hesitated, then said, "This color..."
"Is it exactly like you?" I asked, my anticipation growing. "I paid a fortune to have them adjust it for so long!"
He didn't respond, but just continued to use his handsome face to show me what it meant to feel a mix of emotions.
I pursed my lips.
"Forget it, I know without you saying it. I look good in anything, and I look good with any hairstyle." I straightened up. "Let's go eat."
It wasn't until we were eating that I remembered to tell him what I'd noticed: "Your hair has grown too long; you should get it cut short."
He tucked his excess bangs behind his ears, revealing his fair and beautiful ears and purple earrings.
“I’ll find time to fix it,” he said.
I was a little annoyed: "I wish I had remembered this while I was in the store."
He stopped talking and ate his meal in silence.
"What is your name?" I asked. "Tell me. Maybe you were the last person I saw before my fiancé killed me. You can't let me die without knowing your name."
He continued to play the mute, intently poking at the noodles in the bowl with his fork.
I couldn't help but sigh, "You're so stubborn... What's the harm in telling me?"
"What good will it do to know?" he finally asked me.
“If I knew…” I thought for a moment, “then there would be one more name in my life.”
I casually picked up the drink on the table, pushed it in front of him, and gestured for him to look at the drink. Then, under his gaze, I casually picked up a candy from the small plate and threw one into the drink.
"Like this, put new things in."
The candy was bubbling at the bottom of the drink. I lifted the cup, took a sip, and stuck out my tongue.
"How strange."
He curled his lips into a slight smile.
That smile was completely unexpected, and I was momentarily stunned.
The time encompassed by this "sudden moment" seemed to be longer than I expected. He slowly suppressed his smile, frowned, and reverted to his initial cold demeanor, asking:
"how"
I blinked.
He still frowned, looking quite puzzled.
I put down my drink and suddenly realized:
"So you didn't scold me after all."
he:""
Me: "You don't have the ability to curse either!"
He grew increasingly confused: "...What?"
“I felt it, just now,” I told him seriously, “that feeling of time suddenly slowing down on you.”
His face turned pale and then flushed, just like when I asked him for his opinion on his new hairstyle at the barbershop, his complexion suddenly becoming multicolored again.
His lips opened and closed, and his hands moved in the same way, clenching the fork tightly and then releasing it, looking very anxious and restless.
I pretended not to notice his movement and continued:
"It's not because time is too hard to pass... it's because 'you're so beautiful.' Is that it?"
“No,” he denied categorically, “I have never had such a thought.”
"Really not?" I asked. "Not even once."
His face turned cold, and his brows furrowed into a tight knot.
“Forget it,” I changed my mind and withdrew my attack, “I have enough.”
His shoulders slumped down slightly as if he were slacking off, then he propped himself up on his elbows, bracing himself against the table, and covered half of his face with his hands.
“…You’re right,” after a long pause, his still indifferent voice rang out slightly, “Perhaps that’s the reason.”
Then he lowered his hand and, as casually as possible, spoke in an academic tone, trying to sound as natural as possible:
"I didn't notice it at first, but I found out when I was at the hair salon. I didn't expect you to have the same opinion."
"Don't get me wrong, I don't have any special feelings for you, nor do I think your appearance is anything special." Like me, he raised the drink in his hand, the clear liquid reflecting a dazzling light under the lamp. "It's just that from a certain angle... your glass looks a little shiny."
I rubbed my ears.
That's so high-class.
This way of speaking is so sophisticated to me.
“I understand what you mean,” I replied sincerely, then asked, “Next time, could you just say you like me?”
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