"You're selling a cup of instant noodles for 50 yuan? Doesn't that seem like robbery to you?"
Ye Tianxin heard a noise in the distance.
"Yes, it's 50 yuan, and it doesn't matter whether you buy it or not
The salesperson in the shop looked arrogant.
"Never mind. We'll pay for it. Our son is hungry."
A young woman was persuading her man.
The three-year-old boy next to the man was crying with hunger.
The man lowered his head and gently comforted the little boy beside him.
He was really reluctant to buy the noodles because 50 yuan was half of his pay rate per day.
However, his child was so hungry. How could he bear to see him like that as a father?
Ye Tianxin squeezed into the crowd and asked the salesperson, "How much do you usually sell for a cup of instant noodles?"
The person aside said to Ye Tianxin, "5 yuan."