"It’s Big Playboy Mu!"
"Oh my God! What do we do? I only have a small business."
"Shush, keep it down. If he hears you, he might smash your stall, and that would be disastrous. Just let him have a free meal and be happy when he leaves."
"Right, right, lose a little money to avoid disaster. Just a little loss is fine."
Everyone’s hushed whispers, however, didn’t miss a single word to Mu Hanyan’s ears. Her mouth twitched, utterly speechless. Had she become so unwelcome already? Hearing these words, she felt like a plague. It was truly a live-action version of being universally disliked.
Mu Hanyan turned to look at a small street stall, wondering what to eat. After making eye contact with the vendor, the vendor forced a smile and, with a trembling voice, said, "Young Master Mu, what would you like to eat? Anything, for free." The smile looked uglier than a cry.
Mu Hanyan snorted coldly, "Seeing you just ruins my appetite." With that, she continued walking forward.
The vendor breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Big Playboy Mu’s comment about losing his appetite upon seeing him and leaving right away. He was overjoyed. If Big Playboy Mu had eaten breakfast without paying, it would have been forgivable, but if he found the food unsatisfactory and flipped his stall, it would have been a disaster—the stall was his livelihood, after all.
As Mu Hanyan walked along, the vendors along the road were utterly silent, not daring to make a move.
After walking a bit further, Mu Hanyan saw a dumpling stall. This was the place—she remembered the dumplings here tasted pretty good. At the moment, two other people were eating at the stall, but their faces changed when Mu Hanyan sat down. They couldn’t even bother with their dumplings, dropped a few copper coins, and ran away.
The stall’s owners, an elderly couple, also changed expressions upon seeing Mu Hanyan arrive. The old lady forced a smile and was about to speak when the old man snapped at Mu Hanyan, "We run a small business and don’t give credit! If you want to eat, pay up; if you don’t have money, leave!"
At these words, the old lady’s face turned snow-white, and she slapped the old man on the back, "Have you gone mad? This is Eldest Young Master Mu, from the City Lord’s Mansion." Both sons of the Lord City Master looked alike, but they were very distinguishable. Eldest Young Master had a bright red mole in the middle of his forehead—who else could this be if not Big Playboy Mu? Looking at how other vendors avoided him like the plague, was there any doubt?
"Eldest Young Master, good morning. May I know what you would like to eat? Ah, silly me, we only have dumplings. Would you like two bowls, Eldest Young Master?" the old lady asked cautiously with a squeezed smile.
"Two bowls," Mu Hanyan replied cheerfully.
"What are you waiting for? You old fool, go cook them!" The old lady slapped the old man’s back again, but anyone could hear the worry in her tone.
What was there to worry about, if not that her husband’s hot temper might lead to a confrontation with Big Playboy Mu? What good could come of that? ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
"Let me be clear, we run a small business and give no credit... Ouch, you old hag, hitting me again, you’ll be the death of me one day."
"We’ve been doing this for decades, haven’t I not killed you yet?"
"Heh heh, I know you couldn’t bear to."
"Quit your chattering and go cook the dumplings. Hurry up, our burial funds are depending on you."
"How are we to save for our burial funds if he eats for free?" grumbled the old man unhappily.
"Missing one plank from the coffin, can’t we just pick that up ourselves?" the old lady scolded, hands on hips.
Mu Hanyan couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
(Automatically published by Save Draft Jun, automatically seeking recommendation tickets, full-star ratings, automatically bestowing kisses)