Chapter 2

I didn't sleep well. When I woke up, my eyelids felt heavy.

Ethan sat at the small table typing on his laptop, his white dress shirt glowing faintly in the morning light.

Campus heartthrob looks—truly captivating.

Hearing me stir, he brought over a glass of warm milk.

He affectionately pinched my cheek, his voice doting and magnetic:

"Baby, drink your milk."

Then he pulled out a paper jewelry box and opened it.

Inside was a tarnished silver ring that looked dirty and old.

He knelt on one knee, held the ring up in front of me, and said:

"Baby, this is the silver ring my mom took off her own finger and gave to me. It was also a gift from my grandmother to her."

"It's not expensive, but to my family, it means everything."

"We've only been dating for five months, but from the moment we met eight months ago, I fell deeply in love with you."

"Please don't refuse me, okay?"

I silently sneered to myself.

Wasn't this the exact suggestion from the comment section when he posted pictures last month?

A cheap alloy ring bought online for a dollar, free shipping during promotions.

And they'd written so confidently: Game props don't deserve expensive investments.

Their disgusting game involved deliberately pretending to be poor, deceiving girls who struggled to make ends meet, scamming them for money and sex.

And they justified it shamelessly: This is the only way to find girls who aren't materialistic.

Ha! Screw their "good girls!"

I stayed silent, lowering my eyes.

Ethan maintained his kneeling posture, his expression gradually tensing.

He was worried I'd reject this piece of trash.

I hid my left hand under the covers and viciously pinched my thigh. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes.

Then, overcome with joy, I extended my right hand and slipped my ring finger into the silver band.

I quickly pulled it back, as if afraid he'd change his mind.

"It's too precious. Are you sure you want to give this to me now?"

Ethan blinked, caught off guard.

He set down the paper box, using that movement to compose his expression. He gave me a sincere smile:

"Of course. I'm sorry, baby. This is all I can give you right now."

What award-winning acting.

I wiped away my tears and clasped my hands tightly together.

"Ethan, don't you dare look down on yourself!"

I pressed the ring against my chest and solemnly declared:

"I swear, it's more important to me than my own heart."

His expression froze slightly, the mockery hidden in his eyes quietly dissipating.

I shyly pulled him close, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his white shirt.

I mentally reviewed all the netizen comments from last night.

Ethan stroked my hair and murmured:

"I'm sorry. Last night... I couldn't hold back."

Fighting the urge to jump up and slap him, I gently pushed him away and turned to pull at the bedsheets.

Against the large expanse of sky blue, a spot of oxidized rusty red stood out prominently.

From where Ethan stood looking down, he could definitely see it.

I quickly bundled the sheet into a ball.

When I turned around, his face indeed showed poorly concealed smugness.

"Last night was worth commemorating. Baby, don't bother cooking. I'll treat you to pizza."

I stuffed the sheet into the secondhand washing machine, poured in detergent, and replied casually:

"Forget it. Takeout is expensive and dirty. I'll cook instead. We need to save money if we're going to buy a house someday."

Ethan looked deeply moved and tender.

"You're right, baby, but today's an exception."

Without waiting for my answer, he placed the order.

Then he walked over and held me tight.

"Don't worry. I'll definitely make you happy. I'm going to work and earn money now. You eat first, okay?"

The door closed.

As I listened to the washing machine rumbling, memories flooded back.