The firecrackers celebrating the opening of the shop had yet to be swept away from the storefront, and the sign read "Chapman’s Noodle Restaurant" in four large characters.
Hannah was montarily at a loss for words, fiddling with her school uniform pocket, "Is it not okay for to change my mind?"
Arnold Simmons straightened up, smiling, "Sure, whatever you want."
He walked ahead again, with two backpacks hanging on his shoulders, pressing down the faint indifference between his brows.
Hannah, very happy, followed him, walking by his side, "Arnold, how about I treat you this ti?"
Arnold looked ahead at the road, mindful of the traffic lights, and reached out to pull Hannah along, "Why, you think I can’t afford to treat you?"
He looked at the young girl next to him with a half-smile.
Hannah touched her nose, "I just... last ti I said I’d treat you, but in the end, you paid, so I figured this ti it’s my turn."
"There’s no need to fuss about treating," Arnold said as he held onto Hannah and crossed the road before letting her go, "If you like it so much, next ti it’s your turn."
Although the noodle restaurant was newly opened, there weren’t many people inside yet as it wasn’t ti for students to get out of school.
Compared to the small, fly-ridden place they’d visited before in a deep alley, this "Chapman’s Noodle Restaurant" looked much more spacious and clean, with two waiters—one in charge of taking orders and the other serving dishes.
Of course, the prices were also significantly higher.
Just a bowl of beef noodles with the sa taste and portion size as last ti now cost two to three tis more.
Hannah tugged at Arnold’s sleeve.
The young man stood upright, seriously inspecting the special nu of the day placed to one side, but he still lowered his head cooperatively, "What’s up?"
There were few people in the restaurant, and they were the only ones ordering at the mont. The two waiters were all smiles throughout, ready to co over and offer their attentive service at any mont.
In such an atmosphere, it felt embarrassing to leave without ordering sothing substantial.
Nevertheless, Hannah leaned in closer and whispered, "Arnold, how about we switch to another place?"
She still rembered that Arnold’s current situation wasn’t good.
Arnold looked at her and tilted his head, "Didn’t you say you wanted noodles?"
Hannah tugged at his sleeve, unusually avoiding his gaze, only looking at the sky-blue backpack on his shoulder, her voice still soft, "I suddenly don’t feel like it anymore."
After speaking, she looked down at her toes, pressing her lips together, suddenly feeling a bit somber.
She always knew Arnold’s past wasn’t good, whether he ntioned it himself or she heard it from others.
But however painful, it was still just the past.
The past could be persuaded to forget, or one could choose to face it calmly. However, when "this past" beca an experience that she was currently witnessing, it was a different feeling altogether.
Arnold looked down at the young girl avoiding his gaze and suddenly found it amusing, "I an, don’t you think you, the new classmate, are being a bit too fickle?"
At his words, Hannah looked up at him.
Arnold didn’t say anything, just pulled her over to sit down at a seat by the side.
He put down the two backpacks from his shoulders, and when the waiter ca over to ask what they wanted to order, he replied that they would think about it for a while longer before ordering.
The waiter naturally didn’t mind, glanced at Hannah sitting quietly on the side, and walked away.
Thinking it must be a little lovers’ spat.
Arnold leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed and casual, his gaze fixed on Hannah across from him, he tapped on the table and leisurely said, "I’m giving you two minutes, tell for the last ti what you want to eat."
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