Chapter Ninety-Five: A Fine Thing That Keeps Switching Sides

Song Waning reached out to pick up the shell, only to notice that the flesh inside was riddled with wounds from shards of glass. Her hand froze midair, and everyone in the livestream thought she had decided not to pick up the shell after all.

“Song Waning, don’t! There might be something good inside!”
“At least pick it up and take a look, won’t you?”
“I’m telling you, there’s definitely a pearl in a situation like this, trust me!”
“No way—if Song Waning doesn’t take it, I’ll go and grab it myself right now!”
“Heh, first come, first served. I’m the closest one here.”

While the audience chatted enthusiastically, the next second they saw Song Waning scoop the shell up in both hands.

“Whoa, is Song Waning psychic or something? She really looked like she was going to leave it just now.”
“Well, that’s it, dream’s over, riches slipping away.”

Song Waning gazed at the battered shell in her hands and spoke, “Since your life has been so hard, let me help end your suffering. Shall I steam you, grill you over charcoal, or maybe braise you…?”

“Whoa! Ruthless!”
“That’s truly ending its pain.”
“That’s Song Waning for you—always saying the most unexpected things.”
“How could you eat something as cute as that shell?”
“Song Waning, you never fail to surprise us!”
“Steam it with vermicelli, that’s the best way.”
“Eat the vermicelli!?”
“Yeah, why not?”

Clearly, the person above had misunderstood.

Song Waning tossed the shell into her bucket without a second thought. “All right! I’ll steam you tonight!”

“No way—there could be a pearl in there, and Song Waning just threw it away like trash? She just threw it away!”
“Every move Song Waning makes is beyond our expectations…”

She turned away to search for more little creatures. In just one afternoon, she gathered a bucketful.

Carrying the iron bucket, which was now filled with her chosen little creatures—her “dinner,” as she called them—Song Waning was delighted. She found herself subconsciously eager to see Wen Jingxing and share her haul with him.

Very quickly, she caught herself. Why was she thinking of him like that? She reasoned it must be that she simply wanted to show off her spoils. Yes… that had to be it.

Yet she hadn’t walked far when she noticed a figure peeking out from behind a large rock.

“Who’s there!” Song Waning, wary of being followed for so long, finally couldn’t help but call out. Whoever was tailing her was doing a terrible job of it.

The next moment, a boy of about thirteen or fourteen emerged from behind the rock. He was dressed in ragged clothes and, caught by Song Waning, stood up sheepishly. “Um… big sister, I’m really hungry. Could you spare some of what you have for me?”

Song Waning glanced at her bucket, then at him, and pointed to the beach not far away. “There’s plenty over there. You can go find something to eat anytime.”

The boy shook his head. “No… that area is leased by someone else. I can’t go in.”

“I see.” Song Waning rubbed her chin. That made sense—the beach was surrounded by nets and even had people guarding the entrance; it might well be a private fishery.

How rich must someone be to lease out such a vast stretch of coast! If they could harvest so much seafood every day, it would be a goldmine.

Seeing how pitiful the boy looked, Song Waning relented. “All right, take whatever you want.”

To her surprise, the boy only picked out shellfish, leaving everything else untouched. How odd…

The boy selected several items, hesitating before finally leaving, clearly reluctant to dig through Song Waning’s bucket in front of her.

“She really does have a kind heart.”
“Yes, the moment she saw a hungry child, she didn’t hesitate to share her things.”

But the livestream audience soon sensed something was off. Why were there so many so-called “pitiful people” coming to ask Song Waning for help?

After the boy left, a little girl came over with the same excuse, also picking only shellfish. One or two would have been understandable, but after the girl left, a perfectly healthy middle-aged man came to beg as well.

And what was this place, anyway? It was a resort! Could real beggars even get in?

They had to be faking it. The chat quickly realized these people were just looking for excuses to trick Song Waning out of her prized pearl shell—nothing but a bunch of scoundrels!

“Song Waning, stop sharing—these people are all fakes!”
“A natural pearl! Such a rare opportunity, and these shameless people, it’s one thing to squabble online, but to actually show up and beg from Song Waning in person!”
“Song Waning, run! They’re all here to cheat you!”

But no matter how they protested, Song Waning couldn’t hear them.

Not that she cared; whenever someone came to ask, she would simply give them something. Still, it was curious—these people only wanted shellfish. She wondered if they were in cahoots, trying to scam her for her shellfish. Did that mean the shellfish tasted especially good? Maybe the rest weren’t as tasty?

In her previous life, Song Waning had never encountered such things, so all the seafood was a novelty to her. She didn’t know what any of it tasted like, but now it seemed obvious: the shellfish must be delicious, and that’s why everyone wanted to trick her out of them.

Fortunately, she’d kept one back for herself!

So Song Waning was especially generous. As the beggars went from timidly picking to boldly rifling through her bucket, she no longer cared. But the viewers in the livestream were on edge, terrified that, at any moment, her bucket would yield up that familiar shell.

Yet even when Song Waning turned the bucket upside down, no one saw the shell.

Now everyone was puzzled. Where had it gone? Had Song Waning thrown it away? What a terrible waste!

After she’d emptied her bucket, those raggedly dressed people stopped bothering her. She was quite content; even though all the shellfish had been taken, she still had plenty of other seafood. Eating less of one kind wouldn’t matter.

After getting into the car provided by the production team, Song Waning didn’t bother with the snack street, eager to get back as soon as possible.

Half an hour later, she finally arrived near the small villa. It was still early; the other guests were all out on their tasks. Even Wen Jingxing had only just returned and closed the door when someone knocked.

He was puzzled—if it was Song Waning, she would have had a key. Who else could it be?

He opened the door to find Song Waning standing there, holding a large iron bucket filled to the brim with seafood!

This morning, I dreamt that someone gave my book a bad review. Boohoo… so sad.
(The end of this chapter)