“Damn you, I just came over to remind you to smoke less, and by the way, ask if you want some late-night snacks.” David Clark raised his hand, about to smack this clueless guy, but immediately remembered the beautiful woman standing behind him, so he quickly pulled his hand back—if he left an impression of being violent, he’d be done for.

“Late-night snack my ass.” Cliff, who never expected in his life to reach 160cm and was known as the dog-walking master, grinned. Unlike David Clark, his teeth were yellowed from excessive smoking and drinking, and he’d lost nearly a quarter of them in fights—truly a sorry sight.

“Get back inside, if you scare the girls going to the bathroom at midnight, I’ll slap you to death.” David Clark lowered his voice.

That guy obediently closed the door, squatted inside to smoke, rubbed his growling stomach, and said gleefully, “Uncle Eight Liang is so cool, and this is just on the train. Once we get to Shanghai, how many decent women and virgins will he mess with?”

At the place selling late-night snacks, Claire Sutton ordered a potato and beef rice, and got two bottles of mineral water. There was water on the train, but she felt that things you paid for were more reliable. David Clark ordered four fast food meals. Leo said he didn’t want any, because he was afraid it would ruin his plans, but David Clark wasn’t stupid enough to let Leo go hungry. That guy might be a fool, but when it came to loyalty, he was the real deal—he’d risked getting his leg broken by his grandpa to sneak out, and even brought his favorite dog, Laifu. So David Clark specially bought him two meals.

When David Clark rushed to pay before Claire Sutton, he was mortified to realize he hadn’t brought any money. Was there anything more embarrassing in the world? Just as David Clark was feeling awkward, Claire Sutton noticed his predicament. The would-be queen, who was easygoing about such things, pulled out her wallet and joked, “Just consider it your reward for escorting me here.”

“I’ll go back and get the money.” David Clark darted out in a flash, moving so fast it was impressive, slipping past someone coming the other way like an eel.

“He really went back to get the money? Isn’t he a bit too honest?” Claire Sutton couldn’t help but laugh, but she still paid the bill, guessing he’d be back in a few seconds. Sure enough, in less than a minute, he came running back with a hundred-yuan bill, slapping it on the counter to the waitress’s astonishment.

“It’s fine, I already paid.” Claire Sutton smiled, amused and in a good mood. She could tell that this guy, who was not only ordinary but also a bit naive, was a self-respecting but not very well-off peer. Although they’d had some friction at first, sometimes a fight is the start of a friendship. Besides, she was never sensitive about money—her family was well-off, and she was used to being treated like a princess by boys.

David Clark thought for a moment, then put his money away without fuss. He took all the food and walked back to the carriage with Claire Sutton. On the way, he called Leo out to eat. Claire Sutton took her fast food and drink, blinked, and asked, “When are you guys going to sleep?”

“Not sleeping.” David Clark replied with a guileless smile.

After Claire Sutton closed the door with an unchanged expression, she immediately made a victory gesture, climbed onto the bed, turned on the TV, and happily ate the beef rice that was only good for filling her stomach. She felt just a tiny bit guilty for leaving David Clark and his group outside the carriage, but she knew that after she asked that question, the honest and adorable Eight Liang bro would choose to stand guard at the door like a “door god.” Claire Sutton chuckled, “Such a good guy, but too bad I’m only interested in cunning, handsome men.”

The peacock guy, who actually fit Claire Sutton’s picky taste, ate the truly awful fast food in silence. Leo wolfed down his food, making sure to give all the meat to the mutt Laifu. David Clark continued reading a magazine while eating—an old habit of his. He’d read random books everywhere: on the train, in bed, in the bathroom, at the table. Luckily, he always ate slowly, chewing carefully, which was quite different from his real personality.

“Uncle, this chick’s not playing fair.” Leo, wearing a pair of fake designer slippers that were faker than fake, mumbled. He’d always done terribly in school, but he wasn’t stupid.

“How’s she not playing fair?” David Clark replied absentmindedly.

“She knows you’re a straight shooter, so she shouldn’t try any tricks on you. She just wants the carriage to herself, right? Just say so, would you not agree? But she’s so sneaky, it makes me feel bad for you.” Leo grumbled. He liked to pronounce “弄” as “嫩,” so whenever he got into a fight, his catchphrase was “I’ll mess you up” or “If I don’t mess up your ass today, I’m not Uncle Eight Liang’s nephew.” That’s how the legend of “Eight Liang Chrysanthemum” spread in a certain circle in Tangshan.

“Girls, who doesn’t have a few little schemes? Why do you care? She’s not bad—at least the food we’re eating was paid for by her.” David Clark kept his attention on the magazine, sounding indifferent.

“Uncle, you’re just too decent. I never passed a single elementary school ethics class, don’t have that kind of moral standard. If we were in Tangshan, I’d definitely mess with her.” Leo muttered under his breath.

“How many times have I told you, you can mess with anyone, just don’t mess with women.” David Clark sighed, kept eating, and turned the page of his magazine.