Why Is Mr. Handsome Always Angry? - Chapter 5

You might not believe this, but I escaped.

While the gawking crowd surrounded Mr. Handsome, I slipped away.

After squeezing out of the packed hospital, I ran for several minutes without stopping.

Breathless, I gazed up at the blue sky and wanted nothing more than to pull out my phone and post on WeChat: This bitch is alive.

As if I had a phone.

In fact, I had nothing.

My worldly possessions consisted of the clothes on my back and my priceless beauty.

I considered my situation briefly, then approached the beggar beside the road.

Beg? Impossible. I would never beg, not in this lifetime.

I crouched beside him and asked a truly earth-shattering question. “My good man, what imperial era are we in?”

He looked at me as though I was insane.

Not to be outdone, I looked at him as though I was someone being mistaken for an insane person.

We stared at one another until a bright clink broke the silence.

I had met my match.

He clutched the coin tightly. I nearly had to use my teeth to wrest it from him.

Passersby were drawn to the spectacle. Some even threw down a few banknotes—red ones.

I snatched up the money and sprinted away, leaving the beggar swearing behind me.

I never imagined I would sink so low. Even a beggar refused to surrender a coin in tribute to my beauty.

Then again, he might have been nearsighted.

That thought lightened my mood considerably.

Still, I hadn’t forgotten that I was running for my life.

My first priority was finding a safe hiding place. Everything else had to wait.

So I went into a restaurant.

Under the astonished eyes of the staff, I ordered an entire tableful of dishes.

That was nowhere near my true capacity.

Next time, if I brought more money, one table probably wouldn’t be enough.

I was satisfied.

After eating all those delicacies, I hummed a little tune and prepared to pay.

I pulled out my only banknotes and handed them breezily to the waitress.

“Sorry, miss. You’re ten yuan short,” she said.

What?

I didn’t believe it. I had calculated every dish carefully. My mathematical skills were so advanced that even my teachers thought there was no point teaching me anymore.

She recalculated the total in front of me.

Looking at that brutally realistic number, I felt certain that one occasional mistake couldn’t dim the brilliance of a great mathematician.

“Could I stay and wash dishes?”

I broke ten plates.

An accident.

But when I offered to wash ten plates in compensation for every one I broke, the manager chased me out of the kitchen.

I refused him with righteous indignation.

I knew he only felt sorry for me, having to wash all those plates alone. But I was not the sort of woman who casually sold her beauty.

During the pushing and shoving, I tripped him. He fell and hurt his forehead.

I was detained.

The staff said I wasn’t leaving the restaurant unless I called someone to pay compensation.

This was unlawful imprisonment.

But I did owe them.

I sat alone by the window, bored out of my mind, admiring the street outside.

The waitress came to hurry me along. When would my friend or relative arrive? Or they could add her on WeChat and transfer the money directly.

Afraid she would pity me, I was too embarrassed to admit I didn’t know a single friend here.

So I looked up and asked seriously, “Are you sure I can’t pay with my face?”

Then I encountered Mr. Handsome.

Wearing the same dark coat as that morning, he strode into the restaurant on those long legs.

I shrank into a corner and prayed he wouldn’t notice me.

Then he noticed me.

“Hey! What a coincidence. Here to eat too?” I gave a stiff little laugh and waved.

His gaze fixed on me. He approached, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of my seat to take me away.

The staff stopped him.

“Ahem. Here’s the thing. I was always great at math as a child. My teachers all praised—”

I had barely begun when he interrupted, visibly impatient. “Get to the point.”

“I don’t have any money. They won’t let me leave.” I lowered my head.

He glanced at me, then turned his cold gaze on the waitress.

She was a young girl. Seemingly frightened and unable to make the decision herself, she hurried off to fetch the manager.

It suddenly dawned on me: Mr. Handsome could ransom me.

“I didn’t bring any money,” he said calmly.

“No problem.” I patted his shoulder. “You can wash dishes.”

I had overestimated him.

“I know you’re only refusing because you don’t know how. Don’t worry. I can teach you,” I reassured him.

To my surprise, his expression grew even worse.

The plump manager appeared with a big adhesive bandage on his forehead.

“Outstanding meal charge, ten plates, and medical expenses. Two hundred in total.”

“Washing dishes…” I began gravely.

A vicious look from Mr. Handsome choked off the rest.

“Can we come back and pay tomorrow?” he asked evenly.

The smile vanished from the manager’s face. “Both of you want credit? Trying to get away without paying?”

He waved a hand. More than a dozen burly men immediately surrounded us.

The atmosphere turned explosive.

Knowing this was bad, I hurriedly shouted, “Let me make this clear first! You can hit him! You can’t hit me!”