Transmigrated as the Ex-Wife of a Heroic Man Chapter 951: Learning How to Be a Sc*mbag

Chapter 951: Learning How to Be a Sc*mbag

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“Absolutely! I informed my sister yesterday. If I don’t return with the signature, that girl will be furious.”

“I’ve told my mother about it as well.”

Song Zishan frowned slightly. “So, what’s the plan? Should we continue waiting?” She had intended to meet Su Wen today, but if they waited too long, it would disrupt her plans.

“Forget it. Let’s line up.”

“No need, I have a solution.” The speaker was a man with a relatively mature and composed demeanour among the group. He retrieved a large piece of banknote from his pocket and approached the front of the line. A brief exchange ensued, and the person ahead gladly vacated their spot, allowing him to take their place. Returning to the end of the line, he resumed queuing.

Eyes lit up among the others, and they followed suit. Soon, everyone succeeded in cutting the line. Since they paid for it, those ahead were willing to give up their spots, leaving those at the back with no choice but to protest, albeit feebly.

He could only mutter a few words.

However, most onlookers were envious of Su Wen’s popularity, impressed by the lengths people went to just to see her. Someone even dared to cut the line at a signing event.

The staff on-site witnessed everything and promptly reported it. Some came out to a.s.sess the situation. The Morning Post photographers captured the incident, likely to be featured as a quirky story in the newspaper.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yan was delighted. “This is good news. The more buzz there is, the more it means we’re famous. People have a tendency. The more they chase after us, the more others will join in.”

A savvy young man added, “Exactly! There’s a new bun shop near my place, and there’s always a line. I wasn’t keen on buns, but seeing the crowd piqued my curiosity, so I joined the line.”

“Yes, that’s the idea. Just you wait! Our signing event surpa.s.sed our expectations. People will be eager to collaborate with us without needing to hire a newspaper for the next event.”

Meanwhile, Song Zishan and the others had made their way to Su Wen.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Su Wen swiftly penned her name.

“Could you write my name? I’d like a dedication for my dearest reader, Jiang Yu.”

A pleasant voice interrupted from above. Su Wen looked up to meet a pair of smiling eyes—Qin Yu, the man who had orchestrated the line-cutting.

“My name is Jiang Yu,” he informed Su Wen with a grin.

Su Wen was momentarily speechless.

Was she being teased?

“You’re a grown man…” Su Wen’s implication was clear—was it appropriate for someone like him to read “The Sc*mbag’s Handbook”? Or perhaps he sought to learn from its pages how to be a sc*mbag?

“I’m a loyal fan of yours. I thoroughly enjoy your books.”

“Learning to be a sc*mbag?”

“What?”

Su Wen sensed he hadn’t read her book. His purchase was likely intended for family or friends. Despite its readership, mostly comprising women, Su Wen felt conflicted when her work was brought up.

Nonetheless, she refrained from further conversation. The people behind were growing impatient, and she wasn’t inclined to engage in ambiguous exchanges with strangers. As an author, she aimed to fulfil her readers’ requests, so she complied with his simple demands. Moreover, he wasn’t the first to make such a request, albeit his demeanour was more composed.

She couldn’t deem someone impolite solely based on their appearance.