Chapter 692 — The Female Thief Yu Xiaoke
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
A hundred or two hundred and he wouldn't complain? Wei Zhao was so amused he nearly laughed in anger. This beggar's appetite was enormous—asking for one or two hundred? Wasn't he afraid of tripping over his own tongue?
If he had asked for eight or ten yuan, Wei Zhao might not have bothered with him and simply handed over some loose change to send him on his way. But this beggar was going too far, and Wei Zhao was naturally annoyed. He gave the man a cool once-over and said a single word: "Scram."
But the beggar did not leave. Instead, with a rogue's shamelessness, he planted himself against the hood of Wei Zhao's car and refused to budge. "If you don't give me money, I'll sit right here, and you won't be going anywhere today! What have I, a cripple, got to fear? Go on, try me—see if you dare come back!"
"Hah..." Seeing the beggar so obstinate, Wei Zhao actually smiled. He pulled the silver needle case from his pocket, opened it, and regarded the beggar coolly. "Your leg is ruined? Perfect. Let me fix it for you."
With that, Wei Zhao drew out a silver needle and made to stab the beggar. The man was horrified—he had never expected Wei Zhao to carry silver needles on him—and his nerve failed him at once. Shooting Wei Zhao a venomous glare, he turned and hobbled away quickly on his crutch.
Wei Zhao gave a cold laugh and put the needle case away. To deal with that sort of person, one had to be even more overbearing than they were.
Wei Zhao locked the car and was about to enter the hospital when a young girl blocked his path. Wei Zhao frowned slightly. The girl was quite pretty—a oval face, large eyes, gently arched brows, with a certain flavor of a romance novel cover about her. Only her expression left much to be desired: fierce, as though she wanted to devour someone, her face filled with fury, as if Wei Zhao owed her a great deal of money.
"Hey, what kind of person are you? Have you no sympathy at all? That was a disabled man, for heaven's sake! Not only did you refuse to give him money, you scared him off with a weapon?" Yu Xiaoke was furious—truly furious. What she loathed most was the type of person like Wei Zhao, rich and heartless: driving such a fine car, yet possessing not a shred of compassion! Refusing to give money was bad enough, but threatening a beggar with a weapon? That was wickedness of the highest order!
"With a weapon?" Wei Zhao was briefly taken aback, then recalled the silver needles he had been holding earlier. It seemed this young woman, so eager to right wrongs, had misunderstood him. But Wei Zhao could not be bothered to explain; he shook his head and turned to leave.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Yu Xiaoke was angrier still. She seized hold of Wei Zhao's clothes and would not let him go. The man before her not only showed no remorse, he treated her words with indifference, wearing an air of utter nonchalance! If she did not deal with him today, how could she live with herself? This fat sheep who looked rich and heartless—if she did not fleece him herself, surely even heaven would blame her for it!
"Talking about what? About that beggar?" Wei Zhao frowned. "If you pity him, then go give him money yourself."
Wei Zhao slapped Yu Xiaoke's hand off his clothes, and a flicker of barely perceptible mockery crossed the corner of his mouth.