"Wow," Lin Ziran carefully took the handgun as if handling a national treasure, admiring it from all angles, "This is a real gun."
"Of course it's real, it's Zhan Moxiao's own."
Like the Ou Lan Family, Ziran's Family was also impoverished. A gun was a rarity—acquiring one required a substantial amount of funds, and their families were just about making ends meet.
Lin Ziran couldn't get enough of Zhan Moxiao's gun, "Damn, it's truly befitting of the Empire's Richest Man, such fine craftsmanship, this material, tsk-tsk, really top-notch... Ou Lan, did Master Xiao give you this gun?"
"I don't know, he didn't say whether he would take it back or not, I just sneaked it into my bag."
"Lend it to me for a couple of days."
"No way, if he suddenly asks for it back and I can't produce it, I'm screwed."
"Lend it to me for a couple of days, and I'll teach you a secret to getting a divorce."
