Jiang Nian patted her head, "Alright, don't be sad."
"It's not your piggy bank that got smashed, boohoo!" Song Xiyun cried, partly for the broken piggy bank and partly because the money was returned.
No one can understand the shame she feels about poverty, like carefully offering the family's best pastry, only to find out it's used for Qingming tomb-sweeping.
Something normally used to prop up a table leg and never eaten was politely returned to her. The gentle return seemed like a thorn in her side at that moment.
Four hundred in change probably means nothing to him.
"Hmm, you have a point," Jiang Nian waved her over, "Well, baby, I have to go home and talk to my piggy bank."
Song Xiyun cried even harder, "Are you even human!"
"Stop crying, it's just a piggy bank," Jiang Nian said, "Now that we're here, you unexpectedly gained over four hundred bucks today, how about treating me to something nice?"
