Qin Xiangnuan was already stifling frustration in her heart. If the other person wasn't selling the same thing, she wouldn't have been so angry, but this was essentially stealing the fruits of her labor. Now, it wasn't about the money, but the unshakable irritation within her.
Mr. Sun's suggested solution was still unknown to her, but she was determined to set up her stall tomorrow, not for Mr. Sun's assurance, but for herself.
She wasn't like she was in her past life—an introverted pushover, someone who didn't dare to talk back or fight back when bullied. Everyone targets the easy marks, and in her previous life, she had been manipulated and squashed like dough. This life, she refused to be anyone's dough to knead; she'd rather be a pancake—impossible to flatten no matter how hard you try.
