Mr. Sun, finally free of the hot potato, bolted faster than anyone.
De'an was left utterly speechless, watching him vanish in the blink of an eye.
"Seriously? Before we came, he was so friendly with me, acting like we were about to become the closest of brothers. How can he not even be willing to buy me a meal? That's just too much."
Wang Jun's expression was complicated. "You'll find out, in time. Mr. Sun… he's even stingier than Zhao Jing."
Zhao Jing scoffed. "I mooched one meal off you—one that you offered, by the way. Have you gotten addicted to slapping labels on me? But you're not wrong. I *am* stingy. From now on, don't even think about asking to borrow my books, notes, or exam papers. I'm like a Pixiu: things only come in, they never go out."
Having been thoroughly rebuked, Wang Jun quieted down.
He was no match for Zhao Jing in a war of words, so he quickly pulled De'an toward the serving line.
