The old me spent money like water, arrogant and overbearing.
I lived in villas with swimming pools and lawns, never noticing—or even speaking with—these "small people."
Now, here I was, laughing and chatting casually with them.
"Can you really live in a place like this?" Her voice quivered slightly.
I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or something else.
"It's fine. Quiet, full of human warmth." I pointed to a side street ahead. "Are you tired? There's a small stall over there selling tofu pudding and fried cakes. Pretty good. Want to sit for a bit?"
She didn't protest.
The stall was simple—a cart, a few low tables, and plastic stools under an old locust tree.
The owners, a middle-aged couple, saw me and immediately greeted me warmly.
"Charles! You're back from work!"
"Oh, you brought a friend?"
"Sit, sit! We've got fresh brown sugar glutinous rice cakes today!"
I pulled out a stool for Sheena and wiped it down with a tissue.
"Two bowls of savory tofu pudding, extra pickled vegetables and dried shrimp. Four fried cakes, and two brown sugar glutinous rice cakes."
"Got it!"
The food arrived quickly.
I picked up the disposable spoon and fork, and began eating with care.
One bite of tofu pudding, one bite of fried cake, occasionally inhaling softly from the heat.
My face showed genuine satisfaction from the taste.
Sheena didn't touch her food.
She just watched me, her expression slowly shifting from complex to heartbroken.
The Charles she remembered had been impossibly picky with food—even Michelin three-star dishes could sometimes fail to impress him.
Now, he sat on a greasy little stool by the roadside, eating less than twenty dollar's worth of food, and yet he looked as if he were savoring a feast.
The contrast was more striking than any words could describe.
When I finished my portion and saw she still hadn't eaten, I pointed at the bowl in front of her.
"It'll taste better warm. Not quite what you're used to, but it's good—try it."
It was like a wake-up call. Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly picked up the spoon, took a small piece of rice cake, and tasted it.
"Charles..."
Sheena set down her spoon and opened her expensive bag again.
This time, she didn't pull out cash, but a bank card.
"There's three million on it. The password is my birthday."
I didn't look at the card.
"Eat. The tofu pudding will get cold."
I finished the last of my own bowl, drinking the final drops of broth.