Translator: Cinder Translations
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"You go ahead and say it," Xia Meng nodded. "I have my own ways of determining whether something is true or not."
"He's a psychologist who runs a mental health clinic," Fatty thought for a moment before continuing. "Officially, it's charity work, offering free consultations, but in reality, he charges fees."
"Moreover, his main clients aren't ordinary patients. They're wealthy women who feel empty, lonely, and cold at night. Dr. Jiang introduces them to some 'friends'—the talented and versatile kind—who can warm their barren hearts."
"Of course, that part requires a fee," Fatty emphasized. "But business has been slow lately, so he occasionally takes on side jobs."
As if recalling something, Fatty suddenly became serious. "But don't think just anyone can hire him. His status is special—he's the top performer. Appointments must be made in advance."
"The clients send their own cars to pick him up, and he never takes an open seat. It's either a private booth or a VIP room," Fatty paused before adding, "That's the bottom line."
"Alright, that's all I know." He stared at Xia Meng, swallowed nervously, then asked in a tentative whisper, "Do you believe it?"
"I believe your nonsense!"
Xia Meng's expression changed with anger. She jumped up and smacked Fatty's smooth forehead with a loud *pa!* Then, grabbing his ear, she furiously scolded, "You damn Fatty, are you tired of living?!"
Xia Meng wasn't surprised that Fatty wouldn't tell her the truth. She had expected him to make up some false information to brush her off.
But to fool someone like her, pure lies wouldn't work. He had to mix in some truth, at least enough to sound believable.
And she could extract useful information from this blend of truths and lies to further investigate their background.
After all, this Fatty was much easier to deceive than that sneaky Jiang Cheng.
But what shocked and infuriated her was how absurdly ridiculous the story Fatty had just made up was.
No, this wasn't even deception anymore.
This was pure mockery!
Did he take her for a fool?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. If she weren't afraid of making too much noise and attracting the people in Huang Manor, she would've beaten this Fatty to a pulp today.
**Rustle—**
"Who's there?!" Xia Meng suddenly turned in a direction.
Fatty immediately followed her gaze and saw a small head half-exposed on the wall. In the next second, it disappeared.
Xia Meng let go of Fatty and sprinted after it.
It was the little beggar from last night.
Although the glimpse was brief, Fatty, with his sharp senses, still recognized him. Without hesitation, he also dashed off in the same direction as Xia Meng.
Xia Meng was fast, and Fatty lagged behind from the start. So, after roughly determining the boy's escape route, he decided to take another path to intercept him.
This path was one they had taken before. First, it was relatively safer—without the doctor around, survival was the priority.
Second, the other side was a lake. The boy couldn't escape across the water, so this route had the best chance of cutting him off.
Sure enough, the ragged little beggar, after shaking off Xia Meng, wobbled along the top of the wall with his arms outstretched as if trying to balance himself.
Just as he crouched down to jump off the wall, he suddenly noticed Fatty squatting behind a rockery.
Startled, his body wobbled, and he nearly fell from the steep wall.
"Be careful!" Fatty instinctively warned.
The beggar boy steadied himself but immediately looked back, seemingly considering retreating. However, from his expression, it seemed Xia Meng was already closing in.
He had nowhere to go—behind him was the lake.
Even so, he still clutched his broken bowl tightly. The bowl was now empty, and the steamed bun he had had was gone, likely lost during his escape.
He glanced at the lake behind him, his throat moving unconsciously. Gradually, he seemed to make a decision.
"Don't!" Fatty suddenly called out. "Don't jump! There's something wrong with that lake—it's dangerous!"
By now, Fatty could see the boy's face clearly. Though he was covered in filth and dressed in rags, his exposed skin and frail frame indicated that he was still a child.
Fatty spoke gently, backing away slightly while keeping his gaze sincere. "I won't hurt you," he paused. "You can come down slowly and take this path instead."
The boy on the wall stared at him warily.
In the distance, rapid footsteps approached—it must have been Xia Meng getting close.
The boy glanced in one direction, then at Fatty, seemingly weighing his options.
But in the end, he crouched down and nimbly jumped off the wall.
As soon as he landed, he immediately put distance between himself and Fatty.
Seeing Fatty remain still, the boy turned and prepared to run.
"Wait!"
The boy hesitated, then looked back at Fatty with even more caution, as if suspecting a trap.
Until he saw Fatty pull a white steamed bun from his pocket. Then another. He placed them together, then plucked a large leaf from a nearby tree and carefully wrapped them.
"You must be hungry," Fatty placed the buns on the ground and stepped back. "Take them. I know what it's like to go hungry."
"If you're hungry again, come find me," Fatty added. "Don't steal anymore."
The boy's eyes fixated on the white, fluffy steamed buns. He swallowed, then dashed forward, grabbed the leaf-wrapped buns, and ran away.
By the time Xia Meng arrived, the boy was already gone.
"Where is he?" she asked, panting.
"He ran away," Fatty, also gasping for breath, replied. "He knows the terrain well—I couldn't stop him."
"It seems like he's been living around here for a long time," Xia Meng muttered, staring at the wall.
She had followed it all the way here, but being unfamiliar with the area, she had taken several wrong turns, ultimately letting him escape.
"We should head back for now," Fatty suggested.
They had been gone for quite some time, and the sun had shifted position.
Xia Meng glanced at the unfamiliar surroundings and felt a vague unease. "Let's go back first," she said. "We'll figure out how to catch him next time."
"Alright."
After they left, a hidden wooden door in the corner suddenly creaked open.
A small, dusty head cautiously peeked out.
Blinking a few times, the boy lowered his gaze.
In his tightly cupped hands, within the broken bowl, lay two white steamed buns.
(End of the Chapter)
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