Nan Xian stood with her hands on her hips at the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, expressionless.
Wei Zeling sat on a small stool with a missing corner, wearing heavy rubber gloves, holding an abalone in her left hand and a brush in her right, looking up pitifully.
"Could I... ask someone for help?"
Before he could finish speaking, Nan Xian interrupted him: "No."
Wei Zeling sniffled, her face contorted with the urge to cry.
After returning from the farmers' market, Nan Xian seemed like a different person, forcing her to clean all the abalone and sea cucumbers that couldn't be returned by herself, without any room for negotiation.
In Wei Zeling's original plan, she would never do such tiring and cold-handed work; the words "processing ingredients" were not in her dictionary at all.
She initially thought that she could simply pay a villager to help her wash.
But reality clearly taught her a lesson—that 300 yuan was indeed their entire food allowance for the past few days.
Not only did she spend all of her half, but she also ended up owing six hundred.
Together, their total working capital amounted to just over a hundred yuan that Nanxian had left over from grocery shopping.
Moreover, it's unclear whether the production team specifically instructed them, but the staff no longer dared to lend money to the guests. Wei Zeling secretly contacted her assistant several times when no one was looking, but each time it was the seemingly smiling and easy-going assistant who was actually unyielding.
Despite her arrogance, Wei Zeling was still somewhat capable of assessing the situation. Knowing that she was now isolated and helpless, and that no one would pay attention to her if she continued to act arrogantly, she quickly put away her sharp edge and dared not act recklessly again.
Having spent twenty years navigating the circles of wealthy wives and socialites, she cleverly changed tactics and decided to play the victim to gain sympathy.
Unfortunately, it remains to be seen whether the audience will accept it, but Nan Xian is already well aware that she won't.
No matter how much she begged and cried, Nan Xian refused to budge, and cunningly brought all the unwashed abalone to the front of the camera, displaying them openly.
Even though Wei Zeling didn't want to wash it off, she had no choice but to bite the bullet and go on the show in order to avoid being criticized when it aired later.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside, and He Mingxiao appeared at the kitchen doorway.
His gaze swept over Wei Zeling for only a moment before settling on Nan Xian.
"I forgot to buy oil, could you lend me some?" he asked.
Nan Xian turned to look at him, thinking to herself: Heh, you're just making this up. Do you think I didn't see the seasonings Lang Zhuo was carrying when he came back? He clearly bought everything!
Since he already had oil, his purpose in coming here to "borrow oil" was quite obvious—
I came here to make my presence known to her.
Nan Xian was about to refuse when she suddenly thought of something, narrowed her eyes, and smiled.
"Ten yuan per milliliter, clearly marked." She held out her palm and beckoned to him.
He Mingxiao was taken aback. "Ten yuan?"
Nan Xian raised an eyebrow and pretended to withdraw her hand. "You think it's too expensive? Then take it or leave it!"
He chuckled and took her hand before she could, saying, "I'll borrow it."
She was startled and was about to pull her hand back when a fifty-yuan note was placed in her palm.
"Can I borrow five milliliters first, and then I'll get more if it's not enough?"
Nan Xian put the banknotes into her pocket without blushing at all.
Yes, that's exactly when I'm short of money, so I might as well take advantage of it.
Besides, I've clearly stated my price; if he's willing to buy, why should I be embarrassed to accept it?
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