Only yesterday, they were still chatting online. Now, they were actually face-to-face.
Thatâs right, the person with the baby face beside her was her roommate, the author of Palace Walls, Yun Shuihan. She was already 30 years old. But because of her young appearance, people often mistook her for a college student.
Song Yaoyao paused. She dug through her backpack pulled out an autographed photo, and threw it proudly on the table.
If one didnât know, it looked like she was throwing money.
But in the eyes of a super fan like Meng Qiqi, this was more precious than money!
âAhhh! F*ck!â
Meng Qiqi finally believed Song Yaoyao. She wiped her hands on her shirt and picked up the autographed photo carefully. Hearts almost appeared in her eyes as she looked at it.
âOhhh, my husband is too handsome! Look at this autograph. His writing is so light, elegant, and grand...â
Song Yaoyao held onto her milk tea speechlessly. âAre you crazy? How does that look good to you when itâs so messy?â She shook her head.
Tang Xinrou sighed. âFangirls are frightening!â
âYou canât say that about my idol!â Meng Qiqi opened her eyes wide and patted the photo lovingly, saliva almost dripping from her lips. âLook at my husbandâs perfect face. His body is so sexy and his gaze is so deep! Oh God! Heâs almost charmed me to death!â
âUgh...â
Song Yaoyao almost vomited from disgust.
Yun Shuihan was a gentle person who spoke with a soft voice.
She smiled in embarrassment. âSorry, Qiqi goes crazy when Luo Xinguang is involved. Sheâs usually quite normal.â
As if...
Meng Qiqi held onto the autograph, not willing to let go.
âWhat do you think about what I just said?â Song Yaoyao asked.
âErrr...â
Yun Shuihan was a little amused. She was already 30. No matter how young she looked, her experiences were already imprinted deep in her bones.
âThank you for your appreciation, but I know my book isnât focused on a trending topic. Most drama watchers are young people. They like lots of sweet doting. Even if Palace Walls gets adapted into a drama, Iâm afraid... Anyway, selling copyright isnât easy...â
Slam!
Song Yaoyao interrupted. She dug through her backpack again, pulled out a black plastic bag, and threw it at her.
âThis...ân/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âYou donât have to worry about money. I can afford to buy your copyright. This is a small portion of the money. As long as youâre willing to sell it, then I can make it happen.â
Meng Qiqi was shocked. She opened the bag curiously and her eyelids twitched as soon as she looked inside.
âF*ck... So much...â
Sensing the gazes around her, she immediately lowered her voice and swallowed back the word, âmoneyâ.
The bag contained a stack of pink notes, amounting to roughly 200,000 yuan.
Whether it be a corporate slave like Yun Shuihan, or someone with no ambition like Meng Qiqi, this was a large sum of money.
Yet, what did Song Yaoyao say? This was just a small portion?
Her throat felt dry. âYaoyao, how did you get so much money?â
As soon as her voice fell, there was suddenly a honk outside the window. A luxurious car which she had ever only seen on television stopped outside.
A handsome man stepped out of the car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed into the store.
Tang Xinrou saw Huo Ningxi and rolled her eyes. âWhatâs he doing here?â
Meng Qiqi blushed and said quietly, âHeâs super handsome...â
Tang Xinrou: â...Donât you like Luo Xinguang?â
If Luo Xinguang found out that his fans were so fickle, he would probably break down in tears.