Chapter 22: Chapter Twenty-Two: A New World

Continuing the monotonous routine: morning exercise, studying stocks, making nuisance calls, looking at houses, flipping through books, and so on.

Day after day, no wonder he couldn’t find a partner—nothing he did had anything to do with women.

Before, life had no hope, and he had no ambition; he mostly just played with his phone and scrolled videos. Now that he had hope, his time was swallowed up by intense studying and making a living.

This is the greed of human nature—people are never truly free.

One day, as Wang Yan was busy making nuisance calls, a system notification arrived.

“Lin Youyou from ‘Thirty Is the New Twenty’ wishes: to be with Xu Huanshan.”

This was a previously popular drama; Wang Yan had watched some of it. In one sentence, ‘Thirty Is the New Twenty’ was “the story of three women,” and he still remembered parts of the plot.

For Lin Youyou’s task, Wang Yan guessed only two possibilities: either Lin Youyou truly loved Xu Huanshan, or her competitiveness drove her to outdo Gu Jia—after all, jealousy distorts faces.

The system granted him a year’s stay to observe what choice Lin Youyou would make after the fireworks factory explosion.

This task was quite interesting.

It had been a while since he’d watched it; he’d nearly forgotten the plot.

He turned on his computer, logged into his membership, and started watching episode by episode.

He spent his days working to earn money and his nights watching the drama. It took him four full days to finish it all, and he regained a clear understanding of the entire plot. In short, it was still all about money.

And this task didn’t even require him to do much—just get Xu Huanshan and Gu Jia to divorce early, and keep others from meddling uselessly. With Lin Youyou’s limited skills, Xu Huanshan was definitely not going to escape.

Wang Yan noted down some stock information—that was his key to making money. He couldn’t keep running to the Golden Triangle; that would look terrible.

After recording the key details, he drew the curtains, lay on the bed, pulled up the interface, and clicked confirm.

A blue flash passed, and Wang Yan vanished from the bed once again.

Wang Yan opened his eyes, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings, receiving information from the system.

This time, the system was quite considerate—he started with assets exceeding 100 million, a financial elite. According to the system, he was now in Gu Jia’s residence in Junyue Mansion.

He had experienced two worlds: the first with a net worth of 50,000, the second starting in prison. Compared to those, this one was practically a vacation.

After fully understanding the information, Wang Yan walked around the house.

The system had good taste—the interior was overall in a Jiangnan style. One large bedroom, one large study. The rest of the space, except load-bearing walls, was fully opened up. Interior landscaping and bookshelves served as partitions; some walls displayed books, others showcased artworks.

The living room featured Japanese tatami mats with a low table and several cushions—no sofas or coffee tables. There was no TV on the wall, only a massive ink painting. Except for a few spots, the entire floor was solid wood. The house had generous width and depth; sunlight streamed in, creating a comfortable, cozy feeling.

Looking out the window at the vast Huangpu River and the flowing traffic below, the sensation intensified.

Subtle, restrained, plain and unadorned—yet meticulously crafted materials, quiet amidst the bustle. It carried the feeling of “everyone else is drunk, but I alone am sober.”

The elegance instantly elevated; the pose was perfectly executed.

In Wang Yan’s view, the decoration was merely well-done—everything else was ordinary. He wasn’t just someone who’d been a billionaire; as his actual profession, he’d seen countless luxury homes—they were all small scenes to him.

It was still morning, the sun not harsh. Wang Yan stepped onto the balcony; the warm sunlight felt delightful on his skin.

Watching the river Gungun flow below, Wang Yan couldn’t help thinking of Liu Sihui—back then, they’d sat together gazing at the Huangpu River. She never spoke, never asked for anything, only looked at him with gentle eyes.

Her impression on him was too deep—he never married her, and now he felt regret.

He shook his head, putting aside thoughts of Liu Sihui. Such things would only grow more frequent; how could everything be perfect?

Junyue Mansion had a ceiling height of twenty-one floors; Wang Yan lived on the 18th. According to the system’s information, this unit was cheaper due to its floor level—worth roughly under fifty million, his 200-plus square meter apartment priced at over two million per square meter.

Additionally, he owned properties and commercial spaces in other cities, even in Paris. Combined with his holdings in various miscellaneous stocks and over seven million in cash, his net worth exceeded one hundred million.

The system didn’t specify where the plot stood, so Wang Yan didn’t know. Fortunately, Wang Manni was right downstairs in the mall—he decided to scout first.

He immediately turned back inside, tidied up, and went downstairs.

As he stepped out of the elevator, he saw property staff patiently speaking with a family of three.

The three were Gu Jia and her family, newly moved in.

Seeing them, Wang Yan understood—he knew the plot had just begun, and Gu Jia had just moved into Junyue Mansion.

Seeing Wang Yan approach, the property staff greeted him. Seeing Wang Yan nod and not leave, the staff understood and introduced them.

“Mr. Wang, this is Mr. Xu and Ms. Gu, residents on the 12th floor.”

He turned to Gu Jia and said: “This is Mr. Wang, who lives on the 18th floor.”

They greeted Wang Yan. Gu Jia handled it well: “Hello, Mr. Wang. This is my husband, Xu Huanshan. I’m Gu Jia. We look forward to your care and support.”

Wang Yan waved dismissively and replied politely: “Just call me Wang Yan. Let’s look out for each other.” He glanced at the child behind them, bent down, and said: “Hi there, what’s your name?”

The child, a bit shy, whispered: “Hello, Uncle. My name is Xu Ziyang. I’m four.” Kids learn the routine quickly.

Wang Yan chuckled, pinching Xu Ziyang’s nose: “Alright, little guy’s already good at Qiangda .”

He glanced at Gu Jia, standing quietly beside them, and said: “Haha, the kid’s lively.”

“Alright, I live upstairs. Let’s have dinner sometime when you’re free—get to know each other. You’ve probably got a lot to handle. I won’t disturb you.”

After saying goodbye, Wang Yan left. Behind him, Gu Jia asked the property staff about the man she’d just met.

Wang Yan was ordinary—he wasn’t strikingly handsome, nor ugly in a distinctive way; he was neither.

If not for the two worlds he’d endured, cultivating an air of distinction, no one would even glance at him.

Gu Jia’s impression of Wang Yan was that he was ordinary yet special—his eyes were magnetic; everything else was just average.

The property staff told her Wang Yan worked in finance with assets over a hundred million. To Gu Jia, that meant nothing—her own family had tens of millions; the gap wasn’t significant.

Wang Yan’s looks were unimpressive—he couldn’t change that. Without money, he’d be finished.

Habit is a powerful force. Wang Yan’s goal was to make Gu Jia accustomed to his presence. Even a virtuous wife and strong woman like her couldn’t escape Old Wang’s careful planning.

As long as you wield the hoe well, no wall corner is too strong to dig under.

Wang Yan left the building and headed for the nearby mall.

Easy to find—he turned two corners and saw the mall. With such a massive entrance right below, even a blind man could spot it. Wang Yan walked straight over.

From afar, Wang Yan spotted Wang Manni standing at the entrance. To be fair, she looked good—striking, especially eye-catching.

Wang Manni, standing by the store door, saw Wang Yan approaching and stepped forward: “Hello, sir. Welcome to Mishiya.”

Wang Yan nodded at her.

“May I ask your name?”

“Wang Yan.”

“Mr. Wang, please come in.”

“Are you looking for anything? We just received a new shipment of men’s wear—would you like to take a look?”

Wang Yan said: “Just pick out two casual outfits for me.”

Seeing his demeanor, Wang Manni understood—he wasn’t short on cash.

“Please have a seat for a moment. I’ll select two outfits for you to try.”

She measured his build, then turned to fetch the clothes.

Wang Yan boredly surveyed the surroundings and accidentally spotted Linda—the woman in the drama who constantly schemed against Wang Manni, stealing customers.

Linda had no customers now, and she glared at Wang Manni with venom.

Wang Yan shook his head—he had zero interest in her. People always blame others, never themselves.

After a while, Wang Manni came over and asked him to change into the outfits in the fitting room.

Wang Yan’s physique needed no explanation—he was a perfect mannequin. Wang Manni, with years of experience, had impeccable taste, always at the forefront of fashion.

Watching him emerge from the fitting room, Wang Manni was surprised—how perfectly the clothes fit. Paired with Wang Yan’s aura, they created an entirely new impression.

“Mr. Wang, this outfit fits you perfectly—it matches your demeanor exactly.”

Wang Yan looked at himself in the mirror and nodded noncommittally.

“Try on the other one.”

He tried both. He felt they were acceptable. He was used to wearing suits; suddenly switching styles gave him a fresh, eye-opening feeling.

“How do you feel, Mr. Wang?”

“These two. Charge my card.”

Two outfits—under 200,000.

In sales, the moment of closing brings strong satisfaction. Wang Manni happily led Wang Yan to the counter to process payment—this commission would be substantial.

At the door, Wang Yan invited Wang Manni: “Would you be free for dinner tonight?”

Looking into Wang Yan’s captivating eyes, Wang Manni was surprised—he’d invited her so abruptly, given their limited interaction. But wasn’t this exactly what she’d always wanted?

In her view, though Wang Yan wasn’t handsome, he had mesmerizing eyes. Moreover, he spent nearly 200,000 without blinking—his purchasing power proved substantial assets. He didn’t look old—around thirty—with the aura of a successful man. Why not get to know him?

“Don’t you think your invitation is abrupt?”

Seeing her reaction, Wang Yan understood: “People naturally gravitate toward beauty—and I think you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t give her time to respond: “Let’s add WeChat first.”

After adding each other, Wang Yan said: “Alright, that’s settled. I’ll pick you up at eight. I’m leaving now.” He’d seen the posted business hours at the door.

Watching Wang Yan walk away with his bags, Wang Manni’s heart stirred.

Over the years, countless men had invited her, but none as bold as Wang Yan. Loyal followers were everywhere; men wanting to keep her as a mistress weren’t rare. Suddenly, a unique man appeared—it was naturally refreshing.

At that moment, a woman with a tote bag approached. Wang Manni smiled and greeted her warmly.

Of the three female leads, Wang Yan thought only Gu Jia was relatively normal. No matter her values, as a mother and wife, she was competent—everything else was just average.

Wang Manni was the classic “want it all”—talked about materialism with the poor, love with the rich. She didn’t know her own worth, couldn’t see what role she played. She ignored her parents, chasing only higher branches. In the end, she forcibly whitewashed herself—just leave the country and it’s over. Is ten thousand yuan that easy to earn?

Zhong Xiaoqin wasn’t any better, despite ending up as a virtuous wife. Wang Yan didn’t want to comment on her and Chen Yu, nor did he plan any contact. One reason: Old Wang had no sexual interest in her. Another: they were happy doing whatever they pleased—it had nothing to do with him.

As for their relationships, Gu Jia and Zhong Xiaoqin got along better. They were classmates, sisters for years, both locals. Wang Manni, an outsider, was always on the fringes—similar to how Gu Jia was outside the housewives’ circle.

Back home, Wang Yan tidied up, then went out again.

Wang Yan went to the underground garage, found the car the system assigned him—a black top-spec A8, worth under two million. He started the car and drove to his company.

The system had set up a small office for him in a building near his residence—a twenty-minute drive away—with about twenty staff members under him.

To be fair, this system is really considerate, arranged perfectly.

Arriving at the company, he called in his manager and gave him instructions.

Mainly, he had to liquidate some previously held stocks and provide additional stock information for his subordinates to act on. The principal was over ten million—likely to yield substantial profits.

He handled some routine matters and made a few arrangements. These tasks were now effortless for Wang Yan; his skills in management, finance, and investment were more than sufficient—he dealt with them like child’s play.

His employees were also highly motivated; Wang Yan wasn’t heartless—he offered good compensation. The company had no major crises, no overtime, no KPIs or such nonsense. Everyone was capable, and overall, it was exceptionally relaxed.

After a flurry of activity, it was past five o’clock—time to clock out.

Wang Yan reserved a table at a famous Shanghainese restaurant; he hadn’t eaten this cuisine in a long time and still felt a touch of nostalgia.

Workers in service industries finish late; at eight, Wang Yan drove to near the mall. He didn’t go straight to find her—an adult must at least consider others’ feelings. Especially someone like Old Wang, with such clear intentions.

He sent Wang Manni the address via WeChat; soon after, she came over, carrying a bag.

Seeing Wang Yan roll down his window and wave at her, she smiled in response.

As a woman who had long dreamed of turning a wild chicken into a phoenix, she understood cars well. Seeing Wang Yan’s vehicle, she gained a deeper sense of his capabilities.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat, addressing Wang Yan beside her.

“It wasn’t long at all. Besides, waiting for a beautiful woman is no trouble.”

“No need to be so polite. Buckle your seatbelt—we’re off.” Wang Yan started the car and merged into traffic.

“After a full day of work, you must be starving. I booked a restaurant—everyone says it’s great. Eat plenty tonight; consider it a reward.” As he drove, Wang Yan spoke.