"My name is Dou Nan." He reached out his hand, his face blushing slightly. Somehow, I thought he seemed excited, his eyes even moist. Surely not, just a blind date and he's moved to tears?
I had no choice but to shake his hand briefly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but I ended up rubbing off a palm full of cold sweat. Was he afraid of me or did he like me? I didn't know, but he truly was Dou Nan, acne man. Although that's a sign of youth, youth doesn't need to be so excessive, right?
"How old are you?" I couldn't help asking.
"Twenty-five." He smiled shyly, "Didn't Stock God Bei tell you?"
"He did." I looked at him skeptically, "But you—you look very youthful, I mean—you seem very young."
He laughed, each pimple on his face shining, a mix of pride and helplessness, "Lots of people say I look young, but I don't think it's such a good thing. After all, twenty-five isn't old, and this makes it sound like I'm immature and unreliable. That's not good for my career prospects."
