Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation-Chapter 713 - 432 Don’t be Petty_2

But to suffer such humiliation, where would they put their faces?

Cui Yu roared, "Get him!"

After speaking, his figure instantly shot out like a leopard, rushing to the side of the chubby girl, and knocked her down with a shoulder charge.

Huang Zhongfei ran over to help Yu Wen up; her hair was a mess, her arm had been scraped, and her appearance was very ragged.

Meng Gui took on the role of a combatant, and in cooperation with Cui Yu, they quickly pinned the chubby girl to the ground and beat her.

Cui Yu twisted her arm, and if she dared to resist, he exerted force, twisting it viciously.

The chubby woman’s ugly face was filled with pain.

Meng Gui provided support nearby.

Cui Yu scoffed, "That’s it? You act all tough?"

At first, he had been worried that she would have astonishing combat power, but after fighting, he found that her armor and reflexes were several levels below those of Pang Jiao in his class.

Moreover, ever since his feud with Pang Jiao, Cui Yu had diligently researched ways to win, specifically devising tactics for those with a heavier build.

Jiang Yanan led Yu Wen over, angrily questioning, "She was kindly helping you, what right do you have to hit her?"

The chubby girl retorted angrily, "I hit because I want to hit!"

Cui Yu twisted her arm like a constable, "You dare to talk back?"

Meng Gui glanced at the girl’s face and made a judgment:

"Born a villain!"

Huang Zhongfei turned to look at Yu Wen, the physical injuries were minor, but the mental shock from being treated maliciously despite her goodwill was probably not slight.

Huang Zhongfei took out his phone, remaining calm, "Let’s call the police."

...

At 4:30 in the afternoon.

Xue Yuantong groggily walked to the door next door, looked down, and saw Jiang Ning sitting on the ground playing.

On the cool cement ground, there was a laid-out mat, Jiang Ning was playing with his phone barefoot, with a bottle of chilled cola by his side.

Xue Yuantong slipped off his sandals and sat down to join in the fun.

Next door, Dongdong had successfully recovered; he grabbed a pack of spicy strips, eating as he walked, his mouth oily.

Dongdong was much bigger than his peers and had a large appetite; he quickly finished a bag of spicy strips worth two yuan.

His hands were covered in chili oil.

Normally, he should have washed them clean with soap, but would Dongdong wash?

He subconsciously thought about wiping them on his pants, but halfway through, out of the corner of his eye, he spied a big white cat resting on a stone platform.

Dongdong’s eyes shifted, a hint of cunning crossing his black face; he approached, captured the big white cat, and wiped all the chili oil from his hands onto it, using the cat like a rag.

After wiping, Dongdong found that the sensation was quite soft, so he brought his face close and cleaned the chili oil from around his mouth as well.

His actions left Xue Yuantong dumbfounded. Could he even do something like that?

She had never seen such a deficient person.

After being wiped by Dongdong, the cat’s fur became oily, and when shone upon by the sunlight, it glistened.

The next-door Mr. Qian, fanning himself with a banana leaf fan, came out and seeing his shiny cat, couldn’t help but exclaim:

"Look how healthy my white cat is, see its fur, so like brocade, smooth and soft, my oh my!"

Mr. Qian, who considered himself a learned man, wanted to recite a poem on the spot, but alas, could really come up with no verse to describe the scene.

Upon hearing this, both Jiang Ning and Xue Yuantong couldn’t help but reveal slight smiles.

"If Mr. Qian knew his beloved white cat had been used as a rag by Dongdong, would he faint from anger?" Xue Yuantong pondered.

Having finished wiping his hands, Dongdong took his slingshot and played in the open space outside, aiming here and there.

Occasionally ’accidentally’, he aimed towards Xue Yuantong’s side.

His occasional antics were somewhat irritating.

Jiang Ning went back inside to retrieve a straight wooden sword he had made during his spare time, and with disdain said:

"What era is this? Still playing with slingshots, that’s for kids."

After speaking, Jiang Ning grasped the wooden sword and swiftly demonstrated a sword flourish, using "small magic" to ensure special effects, truly a dazzling and eye-catching display.

Dongdong was attracted by the stylish swordplay.

Jiang Ning: "Slingshots are outdated; where we’re from, playing with treasure swords is popular. Do you have a treasure sword?"

"You don’t have it."

With that, Jiang Ning sheathed his sword and returned to his house.

Dongdong couldn’t bear to be left behind and howled, "Wait for me!"

He ran back home.

After witnessing this scene, Mr. Qian shook his head and chuckled, adopting his teacher’s persona to advise, "Jiang Ning, you’re sixteen this year, why bother arguing with a little kid?"

Xue Yuantong glanced at the white cat with a peculiar expression, coming to his defense:

"Mr. Qian, you surely wouldn’t argue with Dongdong, right?"

Mr. Qian stood tall, his eyes condescending, and his esteemed teacher’s demeanor fully displayed, "Me, a teacher, argue with a child? How embarrassing!"

Jiang Ning scanned with Divine Sense and noticed that behind the bungalow, Dongdong was eyeing Mr. Qian’s ladder, looking for something to start smashing.

It seemed he planned to use it to make a wooden sword.

"Well said!" Jiang Ning applauded him.

Seeing his expression, Xue Yuantong immediately guessed what was on Jiang Ning’s mind.

"Of all the people here by the bungalow, I admire your integrity the most, Mr. Qian," praised Xue Yuantong, "They say that petty people can’t achieve great things, and those who achieve great things don’t sweat the small stuff. Isn’t that just like you, Mr. Qian?"

She clapped her small hands.

With this compliment, Mr. Qian felt elated. Considering Xue Yuantong was a good student and, in his eyes, cultured, it was said that the literati are often critical of each other, but to be praised by a cultured person today truly delighted him.

As the sky darkened, Xue Yuantong planned to prepare dinner, but Jiang Ning said, "No need to cook tonight, there’s food for sale at the river dam. Let’s take a stroll there."

"What about Chuchu?" Xue Yuantong hesitated, having already abandoned Chuchu once during lunch.

Jiang Ning replied, "No worries, Chuchu isn’t dumb; she knows how to find food."

They locked the door and headed to the river dam.

The cool evening breeze at the twilight river dam was refreshing and pleasant, with walkers coming and going. Some people set up stalls to sell vegetables, others sold popsicles and cold drinks, and there was even dinner for sale, resembling a mini night market.

Beside the tarred road, two tricycles were parked; one aunty’s stall sold tofu pudding, while another sold roujiamo.

Next to the tricycles, several small plastic tables were set up, most of them occupied by customers.

Xue Yuantong inquired, "How much for the tofu pudding?"

"1.50."

The price was normal, so Xue Yuantong ordered two servings, as the aunty skillfully asked, "Do you want coriander and garlic paste?"

"Yes," said Xue Yuantong, "but no pickled radish."

She disliked the strange taste of pickled radish.

"Alright, we also have other food for sale here," the aunty said, not forgetting to refer customers to her partner.

Jiang Ning stood in front of the roujiamo stall, looking down at the stainless steel basin filled with maroon streaky pork: "How much for the roujiamo?"

"Three yuan each."

Jiang Ning nodded, feeling sentimental, as roujiamo were really cheap now.

He remembered later on, following several price hikes of pork, the price of roujiamo soared—5 yuan, 8 yuan, 10 yuan, then stabilizing at 12 yuan—which ordinary folks could scarcely afford.

But even as pork prices fell, the price of roujiamo defiantly stayed high, without any decrease.

Jiang Ning ordered three roujiamo, spending only 9 yuan.

The aunties were quick with their tasks; within three minutes, Jiang Ning and Xue Yuantong had their meals served.

The gentle breeze at the river dam fluttered Xue Yuantong’s hair.

Jiang Ning tasted a piece of tofu pudding. The texture was smooth and silky, completed with a faint aroma of garlic and soy—a flavor to remember.

After biting into the warm roujiamo, the baiji bun encompassed the sweet, tender pork, complemented by crisp green peppers—just perfect.

Not to mention, though this was merely a street stall, the flavors were surprisingly exquisite.

During the meal, Mr. Qian, fanning himself with a banana leaf, passed by and spotted the tofu pudding. He couldn’t resist and bought a bowl.

"Hold the coriander," Mr. Qian demanded, maintaining his dignified teacher’s pose.

Being frugal, and despite being hungry, Mr. Qian didn’t order roujiamo. Had his home not been a distance away, he almost considered going back to fetch a bun to eat.

Mr. Qian noticed an untouched roujiamo on Jiang Ning’s table and chuckled, "Did you order three servings?"

Xue Yuantong, immediately wary, took a bite of the third roujiamo with an exceedingly defensive small gesture.

Her trivial action was profoundly hurtful.

Feeling slighted, Mr. Qian turned away in annoyance.