Zhang Yuanqi said nonchalantly, “One day when I publish a book, help me write a preface. That’s settled.”
“What do you mean, ‘settled’!? That won’t do.” Zhang Ye tutted, “My poems aren’t freely given. If you really like my poems, I can give you the book and give you my autograph.”
Zhang Yuanqi said without giving any face, “The autograph is unnecessary.”
Zhang Ye said angrily, “You won’t have any friends in the future by being like that!”
After finishing the noodles and washing the dishes, Zhang Ye looked at his watch. It was getting late.
“Are you leaving today?” Zhang Ye asked.