Tang Rao stayed at Fang Jinxiu's large warehouse for two more days.
"Tang Rao, are you a fucking scammer or not, don't you have a house? Why don't you go home, why are you squatting here every day—what are you trying to do? Aren't you rich? You could stay in hotels, if you like, buy one, sleep in room 801 today, move to 802 tomorrow, 803 the day after tomorrow—it's all up to you!" In the warehouse, Fang Jinxiu nestled on the sofa, clad in a fuzzy one-piece garment, clutching a bag of potato chips, crunching away.
"I have a house," Tang Rao said solemnly.
"Then go live in your own damn house!" Fang Jinxiu yelled.
"I am at home," Tang Rao said seriously, "just now, I've bought this warehouse. So, theoretically speaking, it's actually you who is squatting here."
Fang Jinxiu's expression was priceless, and her potato chips tumbled down.
"Holy shit, could you be any more scheming and cruel!" Fang Jinxiu shouted.
