The Last Ten Yuan

　　Upon hearing this, Huzi smacked his forehead. 

　　"Oh, right! The Headmaster's strange rule! Why would he forbid you to take on cases from Yanbei? It's our own backyard, where most clients would come from!"

　　"Fate works in mysterious ways, Uncle Huzi," I replied, forcing a calm I didn't entirely feel. "Opportunities will arise." 

　　Huzi's brow remained furrowed. 

　　"But Young Master… if nothing comes up in a fortnight, even with the strictest rationing, this money will run dry. You need a plan."

　　I offered him a reassuring smile. 

　　"Don't you worry, Uncle Huzi. I have a plan."

　　His dubious look spoke volumes, "Oh, you do, do you?" it seemed to say. 

　　Life, as they say, goes on. 

　　And with about eight hundred yuan to our name, survival for the next two weeks boiled down to stretching every last jiao. 

　　We held our breath, hoping against hope that fate would send a desperate soul our way, preferably one residing beyond Yanbei's city limits. 

　　The next few days were a blur of near misses and polite refusals. 

　　Several groups of potential clients darkened our doorway, their faces etched with worry – but each time, after a quick inquiry from Huzi regarding their residence, they were turned away, their pleas for help falling on deaf ears. 

　　Even Zhang Yuchen showed up twice, his desperation palpable, his daughter's worried face mirroring his own. 

　　Each time, Huzi remained firm, citing my master's bizarre edict. 

　　As frustrating as it was, I couldn't defy the old man's explicit instructions, no matter how irrational they seemed.

　　So, half a month vanished, along with our dwindling funds, leaving us with a grand total of ten yuan to our names. 

　　In those lean days, constantly shadowed by the fear of an empty stomach, the value of a single yuan became painfully clear. 

　　Eight years of rigorous training, of unlocking the secrets of the universe, and here I was, one bad business deal away from begging on the streets. 

　　My master's wisdom felt like a cruel joke. 

　　Huzi approached me, his face ashen. 

　　"Young Master… we're down to our last ten yuan."

　　Panic welled up inside me, but I fought it down. 

　　"You're sure, Uncle Huzi? There's nothing stashed away? Perhaps Master entrusted you with a secret fund. You know… just in case?"

　　He stared at me, aghast. 

　　"Young Master! I swear on everything sacred, I would never…!"

　　"Alright, alright, I get it!" I cut him off, my shoulders slumping in defeat. We were well and truly broke. 

　　"Come on," I said, my voice devoid of its usual confidence. "Let's find a restaurant."

　　Huzi's confusion was almost comical. 

　　"A restaurant? Young Master, ten yuan will buy us a single bowl of plain noodles. How do you propose we eat on that?"

　　"Don't worry, Uncle Huzi, we'll make do." I said, mustering a smile. 

　　"No rice, noodles, or cooking oil at home, and you're about as hopeless in the kitchen as I am. A restaurant it is!"

　　"But Young Master… we could buy steamed buns. Skip the vegetables, make it last a few more days…" he trailed off, hope flickering in his eyes. 

　　I shook my head. 

　　"You can pack away eight buns in one sitting, Uncle Huzi. It won't last long."

　　"Point taken," He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

　　And so, we found ourselves at a dingy little noodle stall, our last ten yuan riding on a single, steaming bowl of vegetable noodles. 

　　The aroma, usually so enticing, did little to alleviate the gnawing in my stomach. 

　　Huzi, I noted, was practically salivating.

　　Seeing his eagerness, I asked the owner for an extra bowl, carefully dividing the meager portion, leaving the lion's share for my perpetually famished companion. 

　　Honestly, the old man, for all his frugality, had nothing on Huzi when it came to appetite. 

　　He could easily out-eat both of us combined! 

　　Huzi, noticing my gesture, pushed the bowl back towards me, his expression a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. 

　　"Young Master, you're still growing. You need your strength. Take more. I'm not that hungry."

　　"It's fine, Uncle Huzi, really. Eat your fill. I have a small appetite."

　　"But Young Master…"

　　Our polite back-and-forth was interrupted by a voice dripping with sarcasm. 

　　"Well, well, if it isn't the illustrious Wu Jie! Sharing a single bowl of noodles? How the mighty have fallen!"

　　I turned to see Wang Chaoyang, a smug grin plastered across his face, flanked by his ever-present girlfriend, Li Na. 

　　The sight of them stirred up a mixture of annoyance and resignation. 

　　Li Na, I should mention, had once harbored a rather significant crush on me – one that I, unfortunately, had to rebuff. 

　　Not because I found her lacking. 

　　On the contrary, she was quite lovely. 

　　 But those were the days of my master's most stringent regulations. 

　　Any hint of romance, any whiff of a love life, would have been met with swift and brutal punishment. 

　　Wang Chaoyang, as fate would have it, had also been vying for Li Na's affections. 

　　My rejection, however reluctantly given, paved the way for their union. 

　　It was a fact he never let me forget.

　　Years ago, I had been… well, let's just say, an acquired taste. 

　　A shock of white hair and a face that could generously be described as "foxlike" were not exactly considered desirable traits. 

　　Puberty, however, had been kind.

　　 My features had softened, my hair regaining its natural color, leaving me… rather easy on the eyes. 

　　I bore a passing resemblance to those pretty boys from the music videos, much to my chagrin. 

　　Needless to say, Li Na hadn't been the only one vying for my attention throughout high school.

　　 But the threat of my master's wrath was a powerful deterrent. 

　　"Well, Wang Chaoyang, Li Na, fancy seeing you here," I said, offering a tight smile. 

　　"Can't believe a fellow classmate is living in such squalor," he said, his voice laced with feigned concern. "Come on, Wu Jie, order some decent food! The bill's on me." 

　　Without waiting for a response, he waved down the owner, proceeding to order almost everything on the menu, his choices clearly driven by a desire to humiliate rather than satiate any real hunger.

　　Huzi's face turned a delightful shade of green, his eyes darting between the rapidly filling table and our tormentor.

　　 Wang Chaoyang had no intention of paying, that much was obvious. 

　　 I caught his eye and shot him a calming look. 

　　This little stunt wouldn't break us.

　　Wang Chaoyang, his "generosity" spent, settled at the next table with Li Na, ordering a modest meal for themselves. 

　　Li Na, to her credit, looked acutely uncomfortable throughout the entire ordeal, her gaze flickering towards me every so often. 

　　I kept my eyes averted, pretending to be engrossed in the unfolding drama of a lone fly attempting to navigate the greasy surface of a soy sauce bottle.

　　Huzi picked at his food, his usual voracious appetite notably absent. 

　　The impending bill weighed heavily on his mind.

　　 Meanwhile, I dug in, knowing that a full stomach is a powerful weapon – especially when facing uncertain times.

　　Soon enough, they finished their meal, and Wang Chaoyang sauntered over, that sickeningly sweet smile back in place. 

　　"So, old chum, let me take care of that," he said, gesturing to the feast. "Can't have an old classmate struggling, can we?"

　　"Don't trouble yourself," I replied, meeting his gaze. "I have it covered." 

　　My pride, at least, remained intact. 

　　"Right, of course, just offering," he said with a shrug, barely concealing his satisfaction at my supposed predicament. 

　　He turned to leave, then paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. 

　　"Oh, one last thing, old friend. I'm hosting a little get-together tomorrow at the Yanbei Grand Hotel, a celebration of sorts, now that the university entrance exam results are out. I managed to snag a spot at a top university. Consider this an invitation. Be there." 

　　 And with that final barb, he was gone, leaving me to contemplate the irony of it all.