I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping
Chapter 1319 - 910 discs to buy

Chapter 1319: 910 discs to buy

"Woo woo..."

Even though the crying was indeed pitiful.

The only flaw was: not a single tear was shed.

Yes.

It was purely "dry sobbing."

"If you keep crying, your subordinates will come rushing in again. You wouldn’t want to have two nightmares in one night, would you?"

The masked man actually spoke.

"I want to cry!"

The woman’s reaction was equally baffling.

With a few cameras set up around them, it could easily pass as a movie scene!

Of course.

There was no way they were shooting a film—not because of their acting skills.

From start to finish, both of their performances were top-notch, like a clash between immortals, evenly matched in skill. It’s just that, with their net worth, no film crew could afford them.

"I don’t mind. But if your subordinates see this scene, your glorious image might be utterly ruined from now on."

The masked man spoke nonchalantly.

Despite trespassing into someone’s home with a weapon, he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about being discovered.

His words appeared to wield more power than the dagger in his hand. The effect was immediate—the woman’s crying stopped in an instant.

Take a look at this masterful display of control.

In terms of acting, she might not even lose to Pei Yunxi, who cracked the international market!

The woman opened her eyes. It was as if her tearful, anguished display moments ago had never happened. She tilted her head slightly, catching sight of the cut strands of her hair, and a faint flicker of heartache appeared in her gaze.

This seemed like genuine emotion.

"Bastard!"

She suddenly sat up and swung her fist at the masked man. Well, to be fair, the dagger was still lodged in the floor, so there was no need for extra caution.

But given her nationality, shouldn’t she have said "Baka" instead?

Of course.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Truthfully, with her level of strength, her punches posed no real threat. Even so, the masked man didn’t show the slightest bit of mercy. Assertively and dominantly, he grabbed her wrist like a proper alpha male.

"Miss Fujiwara, I suggest you calm down. Right now, it’s just a man and a woman alone here. I’m a man; you’re a woman. If I really wanted to do something to you, I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to resist."

Fujiwara Reiki’s breathing quickened as she locked eyes with the man. "I don’t believe you’d go that far."

"Never underestimate a man’s resolve. And also, don’t underestimate the power of your allure to men."

The masked man released her wrist.

"If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to test me. But you’ll have to bear the consequences yourself."

Sure enough.

Fujiwara Reiki stopped moving, glaring "intensely" at him. "Is playing tricks like this fun for you?"

"Quite fun, actually."

As he spoke, the masked man raised a hand, removed his mask, and revealed a clean, handsome young face.

Seeing the "true face" of her trespasser, Fujiwara Reiki showed no surprise at all.

"Can’t you just enter openly? Must you sneak around?"

Being able to track down her address wasn’t surprising in the slightest. If he couldn’t, now that would be strange.

"Just following your example, Miss Fujiwara."

Jiang Chen maintained a half-crouch, his arm resting on his knee, holding the mask in one hand with a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

"I thought you’d already prepared to graciously welcome me."

"Mr. Jiang, I thought you were a gentleman."

Jiang Chen showed no reaction. "I still think Mr. Jiang Chen has a better ring to it."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Fujiwara Reiki chuckled softly, her smile radiant, bright as blooming flowers, and so quick in changing moods it left one astonished.

"As long as it pleases you, you can call me whatever you like."

Her gaze grew deep, emanating a mesmerizing allure.

Jiang Chen didn’t back down, meeting her soul-piercing eyes head-on, and bluntly said:

"Then how about you call me ’Yamete’? Just for kicks."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak..."

Fujiwara Reiki’s expression froze. Then, her eyes began trembling uncontrollably, as if waves of unknown emotions were crashing and surging within her.

After a moment.

She let out a soft breath, visibly forcing a smile onto her face.

"It seems Mr. Jiang is also an admirer of our Dongying films. Who’s your favorite teacher? I could arrange for her to personally tutor you."

Jiang Chen showed no embarrassment. He was never one for thin-skinned modesty anyway. Besides, Dongying films—renowned globally and even becoming a pillar industry of Dongying—how many young people in Shenzhou hadn’t appreciated their artistry?

Probably less than ten percent.

And those would likely be hypocrites.

If it were Luo Peng, this topic alone could spark an all-night heart-to-heart. But Jiang Chen wasn’t a diehard fan. His few encounters with such films were more coincidental. To this day, the only teacher he remembered was Kouten Ue I, who was now a mother herself—hardly an appropriate subject for lengthy discussion anymore.

"Tonight, I came for no other reason than to seize the moment of solitude and have an honest conversation with you."

Honest conversation.

The phrase sounded proper.

But in this context, it undoubtedly took on a different flavor.

Fujiwara Reiki lowered her gaze.

This was the living portrayal of "the most tender lowering of her head," shy as a lotus swaying in a cool breeze.

Jiang Chen paused in silence.

"When you left, you said that the next time we met, I might not recognize you. And yet, who would have thought, a seemingly ordinary foreign language teacher turned out to be a Fujiwara Family heiress?"

Inside Jiang Chen’s pocket, a recording pen blinked faintly.

Fujiwara Reiki, who seemed ready to say something more, raised her head.

"Mr. Jiang, why do you always insist I’m this Teacher Xiang Tian? Do we look that alike?"

Jiang Chen remained silent.

"Although I don’t know this Teacher Xiang Tian, I feel that if she knew how much you cared for her, she would surely feel very fortunate."

Tonight.

Jiang Chen didn’t mention Koda Kaoru by name. Clearly, Fujiwara Reiki proactively admitted she was the "ghostly" woman from the Fujiwara Dance Troupe.

Of course.

Admitting this was no problem at all.

It was just a dance, after all. They couldn’t possibly prosecute or exile her on some absurd post-Revolution anti-superstition charge, could they?

But admitting to being a spy—that was another story.

Facing Jiang Chen’s stare, Fujiwara Reiki’s lips curled into a faint, warm smile.

"Mr. Jiang, do you really want to meet her that badly? I can help you. Give me all her detailed information. As long as she’s in Dongying, even if it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, I’ll help you find her."

What a courteous offer.

But undeniably, it warmed the heart.

The fright from her ghostly dance seemed to fade into insignificance.

"Miss Fujiwara, may I ask for a favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"Could I have a look at your lower back?"

"..."

What a blatantly open request.

Fujiwara Reiki didn’t scold him for being shameless or vulgar. Instead, she blushed slightly. "Mr. Jiang really wants to see it?"

Jiang Chen stayed silent.

Fujiwara Reiki bit her lip, casting a glance at him full of hesitation and complex emotions. Finally, she turned around. At the same time, she swept her long hair aside, exposing her slender and unguarded back to Jiang Chen.

"Well then, Mr. Jiang... go ahead and find out for yourself."