The afterglow of the setting sun sparingly shone on the cold asphalt road, but it could not bring a trace of warmth to Ning Xiuyan, who was slumped in front of the main building of the Physics Department, his expensive trousers soiled by his incontinence.
The curious or contemptuous gazes of passers-by were like salt-soaked needles, piercing his tattered self-esteem.
Chao Youye's dead-eye look, Mu Xinrong's all-knowing mockery, and the stench of the three words "dirty pool" like a thorn in the flesh, completely nailed him to the pillar of shame.
He struggled to get up, his legs shaking like reeds in the wind, his expensive leather shoes slippery and disgusting from stepping on the filth he had created.
He just wanted to escape this place, to escape from any gaze that could recognize his face. The glory of being the second young master of the Ning family, the delusion of proving his charm, now became the most vicious irony.
He was like a rag doll with its soul drained out, stumbling forward aimlessly in the deepening twilight.
He walked for an unknown amount of time before the intense hunger in his stomach and the cramps in his stomach caused by the violent emotional fluctuations pulled him out of his numb shame.
Only then did he realize that he had unknowingly walked into a relatively quiet back street.
A dim incandescent lamp was on at the corner of the street, and under the lamp hung a simple wooden sign with two neat large characters written on it with a brush - "Chen Ji".
It's a noodle shop.
The warm yellow light, the simple yet clean glass door, and the faint aroma of noodle soup were like a mirage in the desert, tempting Ning Xiuyan's nerves that were on the verge of collapse.
All he wanted now was to find a place to sit down, preferably where no one could see him, and fill his empty, cold stomach with a bowl of something hot.
He pushed the door open and walked in.
The shop isn't too big, with only ten small, wooden square tables. The air is filled with the rich aroma of bone broth and a subtle hint of alkaline noodles.
It was surprisingly clean, even a little too tidy. At the moment, there was only one table in the corner occupied.
The most eye-catching thing is the two people standing behind the open kitchenette.
A man in an off-white cotton and linen shirt was facing the door with his back to the door, kneading a ball of snow-white dough with his head down and concentration.
He was tall and straight, his shoulders and back flowing and imbued with a sense of strength. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms of a cool, porcelain-white complexion. His muscles weren't bulging, but instead appeared incredibly lean and powerful.
As he kneaded the dough, his shoulder blades rose and fell under the thin fabric, with a strange rhythm.
When he tilted his head slightly, one could see a pair of extremely thin gold-rimmed glasses perched on his high nose bridge. The eyes behind the lenses were focused and calm, as if he was not kneading dough, but carving a work of art.
The other one was lazily leaning against the cooking table not far away, casually wiping a white porcelain bowl that was as shiny as new.
He has an extremely flamboyant short silver hair, which glows coldly under the dim light.
A few strands of wet hair clung unruly to her full forehead. Her facial features were strikingly delicate, especially her slightly upturned peach-shaped eyes, the corners of which were tinged with a natural hint of red.
Below his right eye, a small teardrop mole dotted his porcelain-white skin, like a dot of ink falling on the snow, adding a touch of enchanting beauty.
He was wearing the same off-white shirt with a dark grey apron casually thrown over it, giving off a contradictory aura of laziness and danger.
Both of them are extremely young and have incredibly good looks, but their dress is extremely simple and low-key, which is out of place in this small noodle shop, yet strangely harmonious.
Ning Xiuyan's heart skipped a beat for unknown reason.
These two people...especially the one wearing glasses...seem a little familiar?
Like maybe I'd seen it on the cover of a financial magazine, or in some fleeting, blurry news footage? But the thought was fleeting, drowned out by an intense hunger and a desire to hide.
The Ning family had no connection with the Shen family, the real top wealthy family in Jiangcheng, and he was too lazy to think about it too much.
He just wants to eat.
He chose a table farthest from the kitchen and sat down, his head lowered, his voice hoarse: "A bowl of...beef noodles."
The silver-haired young man, Chen Yanbai, glanced at him lazily. His gaze was like a feather brushing past, without warmth or lingering. He simply raised his chin to the man kneading the dough and said, "Brother, a bowl of beef brisket noodles."
Chen Yanxiu, who was called "brother", did not turn around, but just said "hmm" softly, the sound was clear and low, like the sound of jade hitting each other.
Soon, a bowl of steaming beef noodles was placed in front of Ning Xiuyan.
In a large coarse porcelain bowl, the soup was clear with golden oil spots floating on it. The tender and tasty beef brisket was spread on the snow-white and chewy noodles, and a few slices of green chopped green onions were dotted in between. The aroma domineeringly penetrated Ning Xiuyan's nostrils.
The feeling of hunger instantly overwhelmed all unbearable emotions.
He almost wolfed it down; the boiling hot noodle soup and thick beef temporarily numbed his nerves and filled the emptiness in his stomach.
The bowl of noodles was quickly finished, and I drank most of the soup. After eating the hot food, I felt a little warmer.
After eating his fill, his rationality returned a little. He habitually reached for his wallet, ready to pay and leave.
Empty.
His heart sank. He frantically searched through all his pockets—his jacket, his trousers, his shirt—empty! His wallet was gone! His phone was gone too!
Maybe he lost it when he fell due to incontinence, or maybe he was scared by Chao Youye earlier and didn't pay any attention to it!
Cold sweat instantly soaked the underwear on my back that had just been warmed by the noodle soup.
He is penniless!
what to do?
He sat there stiffly, his mind blank. Buying on credit? Would these two seemingly formidable owners of this shabby noodle shop trust him, the second young master of the Ning family?
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