Zhu Qing slightly lifted her eyelids and tugged a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, her voice a bit cold, "How can literature be measured by money?"
Having said that, she seemed to have lost interest in talking. She took back the newspaper from Cheng Aihua's hands, tucked it into her own book, and then leaned against the bed frame, picking up a book to read, showing no interest in talking to anyone.
Everyone then dispersed.
Tan Yan was somewhat embarrassed by her sarcastic tone and then felt a bit annoyed.
In this dorm, half of the students came from families that were barely making ends meet. Only those like Zhu Qing, who came from a bit wealthier families, always carried themselves as if they were above worldly concerns.
