Zhang Xin dressed up and took a velvet box out of her coat pocket, tossing it casually to the man.
The man fumbled to catch it, opened it for a glance—a high-end watch, receipt tucked inside, a five-figure price.
The man's expression immediately changed to disbelief as he looked at Zhang Xin: "What do you mean by this?"
Zhang Xin ran her hand through her hair: "Let's end this."
The man's eyes widened: "What?"
Zhang Xin turned her head, showing not the slightest hint of nostalgia or reluctance, as if discussing the weather, she said softly: "I won't be coming over anymore, you don't need to look for me."
The man stepped forward quickly, grabbing Zhang Xin's arm: "Why?"
Zhang Xin's face was emotionless: "Tired of it."
The man's voice raised slightly: "Tired? Did I not satisfy you? Or did I do something wrong? Just like that, what do you mean tired of it?"
