Fat Dragon looked up at Jin Dajun: "Jin Dasha, if anyone bullies you in the future, just come find us, okay? We'll definitely help you sort it out. But you've got to treat me to a meal."
"Treat you to a meal?" Jin Dajun felt a pang in his heart. Just one meal costs fifty school credits; even if he had mountains of gold and silver, he couldn't withstand that kind of expense. "I better go find Brother Batian, he can handle it."
Thinking of how Mo Batian had stepped in just now, Jin Dajun's heart warmed. Mo Batian was reliable, not like Fat Dragon, who would run off at the first sign of trouble, not caring about him at all. Just now, he had also lost a Sky Fleeing Talisman, which really hurt.
Seeing that Jin Dajun was ignoring him, Fat Dragon quickly said, "Jin Dasha, don't be stingy, okay? If it's too much, we won't go to the second-floor restaurant; just treat me to a meal downstairs."
