"Please put on this coat," Bidegla said, as he took off his own suit and draped it over the woman in purple.

"It's so cold now, why don't you find some thicker clothes to wear?" Bidegla's voice softened as he spoke, realizing that this situation was his fault.

"I was afraid I wouldn't find you when you came," the woman in purple buried her head in Bidegla's chest, speaking softly.

"Are you a fool?" Bidegla was somewhat speechless.

"I'm just afraid I won't find you," the woman in purple spoke, then grabbed the back of Bidegla's hand, unable to help herself.

Bidegla felt a sense of satisfaction as the softness in front of him reacted, but with so many people around, he dared not do anything to this woman in purple.

"Could you let me go for now?" Bidegla spoke, looking somewhat embarrassed as he noticed his reaction growing, almost reaching the woman's abdomen.

After all, this was their first meeting, and he felt embarrassed at his own behavior. Thinking of this, Bidegla's face turned a little red.

"No, my legs are numb," the woman in purple spoke, her face turning red as she noticed the reaction between her legs and his.

"Are you going to squat here for over two hours like this?" Bidegla's eyes widened in disbelief at her words.

"Yes," the woman in purple spoke, then tightened her grip on Bidegla's waist.

As she moved, Bidegla felt his reaction growing even larger, almost reaching the woman's abdomen, and he could even feel the heat coming from her delicate body.

This situation was becoming quite awkward.

But since the woman said her legs were weak, Bidegla couldn't just push her away, could he? And to have a stunning beauty like this woman in purple holding onto him, with countless people around envying him.

After about five minutes of being held, Bidegla endured dozens of strange looks before finally saying, "Can you stand on your own now?"

"I can," the woman in purple spoke, then reluctantly let go of Bidegla.

Glancing at Bidegla, the woman's face was flushed, much different from when she scolded those hooligans earlier. She looked like a girl in love.

"Where is your luggage?" While the woman's blushing face made Bidegla's heart flutter, he hadn't forgotten about the main issue.

"I don't have any luggage," the woman shook her head, then tightly clasped the suit she was wearing.

"Never mind, let me find you a place to stay first," Bidegla shook his head and turned to walk down the embankment. The woman in purple quickly caught up, as if afraid Bidegla would leave her behind.

When Bidegla reached the main street, the woman in purple grabbed his hand and said, "I have a car, come with me."

She thought Bidegla was going to hail a taxi, so she held onto him.

"You have a car?" Bidegla was slightly surprised to hear this from the woman in purple.

"That's my car," the woman in purple nodded and pointed to a red Ferrari not far away.

Seeing the red Ferrari, Bidegla was also surprised, then glanced at the woman in purple. A Ferrari was a luxury sports car worth millions, it seemed that his game wife was not simple, she could afford to drive a Ferrari.

Without saying a word, Bidegla took the car keys from the woman in purple's hand.

Driving the red Ferrari of the woman in purple, Bidegla directly surged into the flow of traffic.

"By the way, what's your name? I seem to remember your surname is Jones," Bidegla spoke in the car, his face somewhat embarrassed.

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"You don't even remember my name." Upon hearing Bidegla's words, the woman in purple's eyes reddened, as if she was about to cry.

"My memory is a bit poor, I can't recall it for a moment." Bidegla responded with a wry smile, thinking to himself, "I was just fooling around in the game, I didn't bother to remember your name."

"I'm Tamma Jones, you can call me Tamma, or... call me your wife." As she said this, her voice was so low that Bidegla could barely hear it, almost like the sound of a mosquito flapping its wings.

"I'll just call you Tamma." Bidegla forced a laugh, refraining from calling her his wife.

Although Tamma Jones was an exquisite beauty, Bidegla was not the kind of person to call a woman his wife upon first meeting, as the term "wife" is not just a title, but also a responsibility.

Until he was ready to take on that responsibility, he wouldn't speak recklessly.

In the game, he could fool around, but in reality, he was still the true Bidegla.

"You can call me whatever you want, I won't mind." Upon hearing Bidegla's words, Tamma Jones smiled in response, but the disappointment in her eyes slowly became hidden.

"Why are you holding your stomach?" At this moment, Bidegla noticed Tamma Jones' discomfort and asked in confusion.

"I...I'm hungry." Tamma Jones blushed, then hesitantly said, "I haven't eaten anything. I left home this morning in a hurry to see you, so I didn't eat anything."

"You silly woman," Bidegla scolded, but without any real intention to scold her, after all, she was in this state because of him.

Driving the Ferrari, Bidegla took her to a hotel. She hadn't eaten all day and yet she was still standing.

They ordered a large table of food, and Bidegla watched her eat alone, not touching anything himself.

Perhaps Tamma Jones was truly hungry, as she was eating without any grace, completely devouring everything in sight. A nearby waitress found it somewhat amusing, but refrained from laughing.

Those who could afford to eat at this place were truly wealthy, and if she inadvertently caused dissatisfaction among the customers, she might lose her job.

So she held it in, not daring to laugh, her face turning somewhat red.

"Take your time, no one is going to steal your food." Watching Tamma Jones eat so voraciously, Bidegla shook his head helplessly.

In just a short while, she had already eaten five or six out of the more than ten dishes. Bidegla even doubted how her small stomach could hold so much food.

"Alright, I'm full." After about ten minutes, Tamma Jones finally satisfiedly patted her flat stomach with her hand, with a look of contentment.

"Waitress, bring the bill." Bidegla beckoned to the waitress not far away.

"Okay." The waitress wore a professional smile and then said, "Sir, your total bill comes to twelve thousand two hundred, rounding down, that will be twelve thousand."

"I'll pay with my card." At this point, Tamma Jones took out a bank card from her wallet and handed it to the waitress.

"Upon seeing Tamma Jones' bank card, the waitress cast a hesitant glance at Bidegla.

"Let's just use hers," Bidegla calmly suggested, though he felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized his wallet was not in his pocket, likely left in his car.

If Tamma Jones didn't cover the bill, he would need to provide a proper explanation.

For most people, twelve thousand is a significant sum, perhaps even several months' worth of wages. However, Bidegla wasn't in need of that money, especially since Tamma Jones could afford a Ferrari worth millions.

"Alright, please wait a moment," the waitress took Tamma Jones' card and walked towards the exit.

But as she reached the door, she muttered a small, disdainful comment under her breath: "No money, yet he brings a beautiful woman out for dinner. Shameless."

Her voice was barely audible, but Bidegla's sharp hearing caught it. Even so, he couldn't produce the money now, nor could he argue against her words.

People will speak as they please.

"Tamma, don't worry. I will give you the twelve thousand, and I'll treat you to this meal," Bidegla turned to Tamma Jones and assured her.

"No need, I don't need a free meal, and besides, I’m your wife. My money is also yours, isn’t it? I understand your situation to some extent, so I won't take your money," Tamma Jones responded to Bidegla's offer.

"You understand my situation?" Bidegla was taken aback. "What do you know about my situation?"

"I know you don't have much money. I don't need you to support me. I can support you," Tamma Jones said, her face turning slightly red, indicating shyness.

To offer to support him in such a manner required audacity.

"Goodness," Bidegla was speechless. While being supported by a beautiful woman was a delightful prospect, Bidegla would never resort to living off someone else. He could earn money, but he had no respect for selling himself for it.

"How do you know I have no money?" Bidegla asked again.

"I know you have no money," Tamma Jones replied confidently. "I inquired about you from your brother and learned about your situation. If you had money, why would you have such poor equipment in the game?"

"Trust me, I will support you in the future," Tamma Jones continued, a look of happiness still on her face.

Seeing her expression, Bidegla widened his eyes, unsure of what to say.

What relevance does a game have to reality? Must one spend money on a game?

Nonetheless, what she said was true. A month ago, Bidegla was penniless, lacking both money and status. If she had said this a month ago, Bidegla would have been thrilled, but now, he remained calm. He could obtain tens of millions at any time, so why worry about money?

"Are you upset?" Tamma Jones asked cautiously, thinking her words had wounded Bidegla's pride.

To her surprise, Bidegla quickly smiled and said, "You want to support me, but do you know how much money you'll give me each month?"

"I can offer you fifty thousand dollars a month, and if that's not enough, I can increase the amount," Tamma Jones spoke as if afraid Bidegla would refuse.

"Wow," Bidegla was surprised to hear her words, not expecting Tamma Jones to be a wealthy woman who can afford to sponsor someone.