Fake heiress Real heroine

Chapter 257
Chapter 257
Car music blasting, sunshine pouring down, it felt like a spring getaway, if one for the gun in the front seat and prin clothes in the
back.
Jason’s first stop was Lafield, where the biggest hot pot restaurant in the country was located. He ordered a lover fear wits extra
spice.
“When you’re here, you gotta eat spicy food. Here, I’ll get you the number one special he sad making mee Quinn taken care of.
Before the food arrived, Quinlyn’s nose started to tickle, the air was filled with the smell of ceili
Once the giant pot arrived, bubbling with red oil.
Both of them swallowed hard, feeling nervous.
“Yes! This is going to be fun.” Jason grinned, grabbing his chopsticks and dunking food in pulling out balls for Quintym
“Eat this, kid!” Quinlyn didn’t refuse.
Ten minutes later.
Jason was screaming. “Aww, my mouth, it hurts!” He held his face, nearly rolling on the table, tears and not foving Wit drink
gone, he rushed to steal Quinlyn’s drink, gulping it all down.
Meanwhile, Quinlyn felt fine, finishing her meat balls, still hungry, so she started cooking meat.
Jason’s tongue was on fire, nearly unable to speak, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you from Chamiloria? You can handle
the spice?”
Quinlyn shook her head. “Nope.”
“I don’t believe you. You really don’t look fazed, just sweating a bit, Jason argued, glancing at her.
Feeling innocent, Quinlyn offered a possible explanation. Tve eaten lots of weird stuff before, maybe my stomach’s tougher

now.”
Like the corpses Jolie dissected, her stomach adapted and neutralized poisons.
“Huh, what could you have possibly eaten?” Jason was curious, clutching his aching belly and lounging around.
Quinlyn thought for a moment and began listing. “Little flowers, grass, mud, straw mats, paper.

“What! Why did you eat those?” he interrupted.
Quinlyn tilted her head. “When my grandpa died, I was sick, and no one was home, so I just ate what I found.”
Sleeping on straw mats and drinking muddy puddle water when having a fever; she still remembered the taste of sand in her
mouth.
Jason stared at her for a few seconds, realizing she was serious. He hesitated but asked, “How did you survive after that?”
“I was healthy,” Quinlyn admitted, proud of her small frame. “I got better and started stealing food.”
“Stealing isn’t a good habit,” Jason said.
“Yeah, I know.” She nodded, accepting her mistake.
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It was just a couple of potatoes from the fields, she was too weak, so once the recovered, she’d forage for wild veggies. People
in the village ignored her, so she ran around the hills, learning the terrain, which helped her become a lookout later.
She rarely thought about her childhood, as life along the border was boring and mostly solitary. The city had so much to offer
people like Stanley, Joseph, Larry, Flowyn, and Barrow.

Lost in thought, she suddenly noticed a big pile of meat in her bowl.
She looked up, seeing Jason was busy serving her, holding a slotted spoon and puffing on a cigarette.
“Since you can eat it, don’t waste it. But if you get a tummy ache, don’t blame me!”
“Okay, Quinlyn had no objections as long as she was full.
Eating a lot felt spicy yet satisfying
By the end, Quinlyn was just fine, but Jason couldn’t hold it and dashed to the restroom.
When he returned, he saw Quinlyn in a heated argument.
“She crashed into me! I spilled my drink because of her! It’s her fault!”
The boy was small but loud, his parents watching with approving smiles from the next table.
Quinlyn stood calmly across, wiping a stain off her jacket. Thankfully, it was water–resistant, so a little cleaning would do.

She wasn’t mad, looking up to calmly state. “You ran into me first.” She turned to walk away, not wanting to argue.
But the boy wouldn’t let it go. He yanked her hat. “You can’t just walk away! My parents saw everything! Didn’t your parents
teach you to apologize when you bump into someone?”
Quinlyn glanced at the adults nearby and remarked, “Direct relatives have vested interests. Without other evidence, their
testimony is unreliable. We can check the security footage.”
The boy and his table looked confused.
“What evidence? I don’t care! My parents are here!” He yanked at her hat with all his strength, trying to embarrass her.
Quinlyn leaned back, ready to push him away when suddenly he was lifted.
“Hey! Pulling on a girl’s clothes? Think that’s funny?” Jason easily hoisted the kid as if he were a wet fish, swinging him around.
The hat pulled tight around the boy’s neck made him cough violently. “Mom! Dad!” he cried out in panic.
The parents, initially amused, jumped up, knocking over chairs, shouting, “Let go of my son!”

Jason smirked, feeling cheeky. He shoved the boy toward them, their combined weight tumbling onto the steps like bowling pins.
Friends at their table rushed over, ready to confront, but Jason raised his fist, diving into the brawl.
Quinlyn didn’t react but watched as Jason, usually laid back, went wild, knocking over seven or eight people within seconds.
He then turned around to grab the boy’s hat. The parents tried to intervene but were met with a gun pointed at their heads.Their
eyes widened in disbelief.
“Ah, so now you’re scared? You didn’t expect to see your son bullying someone, did you? You teach him to be brave and stand
up for himself, but neglect that supporting others can be just as important.”
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“However, you have overlooked one point. Blindly siding with your own kid and picking on others? Well, sometimes karma bites
back–hard.” The cold gun barrel tapped their heads.
Pale–faced, the couple didn’t dare to say a word, knowing their son had been the instigator. But with friends watching, their boy
doubled down, and no adult around to call him out. It was easier to say nothing.
Jason dragged the boy closer, throwing him at Quinlyn. “Apologizt, or I’ll shoot your parents.”
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