A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves

16: You can't live just for the sake of living

Jian Qiao was startled by Rege's stern rebuke. He quickly raised his hands and made a retreat.

"My lord, I'm sorry for offending your young lady. I didn't intentionally profane her," he said very apologetically.

Profane her? She's a dirty □□! You shouldn't have touched her head! You're the one who was profaned!

Rege had a lot of words he wanted to say, but he couldn't say any of them in front of the courtesan. His education required him to maintain basic gentlemanly manners.

The courtesan had been weeping to the point of collapse.

Two shop clerks approached her, trying to soothe her, and handed over a spotless white handkerchief.

It was only when the courtesan took the handkerchief that she realized her hand, along with the pink jewel, was actually smeared with red, white, and black streaks. And those streaks came from the powder she wore on her face, along with the cheek rouge, lip color, and eyebrows dyed with charcoal.

From this she could tell her face was grimy with tears.

No wonder the clerk looked at her with a frightened expression, as if he'd seen a ghost.

The courtesan screamed "Ah", then covered her face and rushed out of the jewelry store. She was used to being despised, humiliated, and even trampled on, but she didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of the gentleman Earl, not even a little bit!

This street was a celebrated jewelry district. The people who most loved to patronize this place were not only noble women and social flowers, but also robbers and thieves. They preferred women who were alone and didn't seem to be noble, so they could get rich returns without much trouble.

And the courtesan who ran out crying would make the perfect target.

Rege raised his hands and hastily explained to Jian Qiao, "You don't have to be sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you just now. I don't know how to explain it to you—anyway, I'm not angry and she's not my young lady. I don't have any relationship with her at all!" With these words he hurriedly ran out.

As a knight, he had to ensure the safety of that lady.

By the time Jian Qiao returned to his senses, the door of the shop had already closed, and the chimes hanging above the door beam made a soft jingling sound to prove someone had just come and gone.

"What happened to them?" Jian Qiao pointed to the door.

The two clerks shrugged their shoulders, their faces equally baffled.

---

Rege found the courtesan crying in a dark alley at the end of the street. She'd curled herself into a ball like a wounded puppy, clutching the worthless pink gem in her hand.

"Get up, I'll take you back." Rege strode over, his voice full of impatience.

He didn't have the slightest interest in this woman, so he had no intention at all of asking why was crying.

"I miss my mother." The courtesan, on the other hand, had developed a need to confide in someone.

She lifted the hem of her skirt, rubbed at the pink gemstone as if it were a priceless treasure, and wiped her flower-like face again, choking on a sob. "My family was always poor. We couldn't even afford a whole piece of fabric. So my mother would collect rags from the garbage to make my skirts.

"You know, ever since I was little I never had a new skirt. My dresses were always full of patches. Bizarre, ugly, mismatched, all kinds of patches. In those worn out skirts I was ugly as a toad! People always laughed at me, and I'd run home crying and find a dark place to hide.