He raised his brow slightly. The gesture was elegant, a little careless, and his tone carried a hint of amusement as he asked, “Otherwise, what do you want?”
“Simple. Money,” Yang Mian replied cleanly and decisively.
Her words were as straightforward as beans poured out of a bamboo tube. Then she stretched out her hand, palm up—completely like a little money-seeking imp, openly and unapologetically asking for payment.
Huo Yanshen quietly watched her movements. For some reason, a trace of laughter rose in his chest, and he actually let out a soft chuckle.
In his long and complicated history, surrounded by all kinds of women, this was the first time someone had so openly and matter-of-factly asked him for money.
The women who usually approached him always had ulterior motives in their eyes—either vanity, or ambition for his power and status. But someone this direct? That was genuinely new.
“How much do you want?” Huo Yanshen asked, a faint, curious smile still on his lips.
He assumed this bold woman might ask for a huge sum. After all, anyone daring enough to ask him so directly usually had a big appetite.
In his world of luxury and excess, transactions often involved astronomical figures.
Seeing him ask, Yang Mian blinked slyly and raised one finger, her expression mysterious and expectant.
Huo Yanshen paused slightly. His mind instantly ran through numbers.
Ten million?
In his experience, anyone bold enough to ask him for money would at least operate at that scale.
After all, a single dinner or transaction in his circle could easily reach millions.
“Give me one hundred yuan. I want to eat. I’m starving,” Yang Mian said crisply.
Her voice was clear and pleasant like spring water—but the content of her words hit like a bomb.
“One hundred yuan???” Huo Yanshen couldn’t help but suspect his ears had malfunctioned.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at her, as though she were some alien creature.
He had expected millions—maybe even more—but she asked for just one hundred.
To him, that amount was negligible. In his usual environment, even a glass of water in a high-end venue cost more than that. What could one hundred yuan even do?
“Yes, one hundred is enough,” Yang Mian repeated firmly.
Her gaze was clear and serious, without the slightest hint of joking.
In truth, her understanding of money was limited.
In her childhood memories, one hundred yuan from her grandparents was already a large sum—enough to buy a steaming bowl of noodles, a simple meal, or a handful of snacks she could happily enjoy.
Even today at noon, her school meal had only cost around that amount.
So to her, one hundred yuan was more than enough for a meal.
“…Alright, one hundred, right? I don’t have cash. Can I scan a code?” Huo Yanshen asked helplessly, though amusement lingered in his voice.
“Scan a code? Uh… I didn’t bring my phone,” she realized belatedly.
“What now?” he asked.
“Then you just treat me. I’ll order, you pay,” she said quickly, eyes bright with a new idea.
“Fine,” he agreed, lips curving slightly.
He found her increasingly interesting.
As the two casually discussed food, the group that had been chasing Huo Yanshen earlier was no longer so fortunate.
“Aaah—!”
Painful screams cut through the silent night.
Those attackers were already severely injured, rolling on the ground in agony, their bodies twisted unnaturally.
“Did you hear something?” Yang Mian asked, puzzled.
“No,” Huo Yanshen replied calmly, pretending ignorance. Of course he had heard everything.
Those people had dared to target him—they would naturally bear the consequences.
But there was no need for this innocent girl to know about such bloody matters.
“…Oh.” She didn’t ask further.
Huo Yanshen looked at her. “Weren’t you going to eat? Let’s go.”
“Alright, I won’t be polite then,” she answered cheerfully, showing no hesitation at all.
“Not afraid to follow me? What if I’m a bad person?” he asked with interest.
Yang Mian tilted her head and examined his face carefully. “From your physiognomy, you’re not a bad person.”
She couldn’t see his past or future—but judging by face reading, he wasn’t evil. At worst, he wasn’t a saint, but he definitely wasn’t a cruel murderer.
Still, she couldn’t see the origin of the blood on his hands.
Normally, there shouldn’t be anyone she couldn’t read at all.
Unless… this person was stronger than her.
That thought made her curious. Just who was he?
Huo Yanshen couldn’t help laughing. “Face reading? You know that too?”
He thought amusedly: What kind of strange little mystic is this?
“You don’t believe me?” Her eyes sparkled like stars, full of expectation.
And for reasons even he couldn’t explain, Huo Yanshen heard himself say, “I believe you.”