The scholar stared at Mu Shuangshuang for a long time, with a look as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.
"Is there something on my face?" Mu Shuangshuang pointed to herself and asked.
"No, gentlemen do not eat food that comes as a gift, I..."
"Haha..." Mu Shuangshuang couldn't help but burst out laughing.
These ancient scholars are really interesting—better to starve than to lose integrity.
But why does this sound awkward to her? When people are starving, what's the point of talking about virtue?
"What are you laughing at?" The scholar stiffened his neck, his face turning red, yet he still stared at Mu Shuangshuang intently.
"Nothing to laugh at. Didn't you say you don't eat food that comes as charity? The bowls at our house are still unwashed. Do you want to wash them for us? I'll pay you, and you can use that payment to get some of our bread. How about it?"
