Chapter 12: Those Years When Rich Women Chased Me Everywhere I Went

After staying at home for less than two days, school finally started.

On the day of registration, as soon as Fang Xinghe stepped inside, the classmates in the class exploded again.

"Damn, bro, you're really awesome!"

"Holy cow! Is Fang Xinghe this handsome?"

"He was just slightly handsome last semester, but after a whole vacation, he's practically catching up to Takeshi Kaneshiro."

"Just so-so... *slurp*."

"Fang Xinghe is so cool, I really want to date him..."

This time, even the good students and well-behaved girls in the class couldn't sit still; one by one, they whispered to their friends, their eyes never leaving the male succubus for a moment.

To compete in the Magic Capital, Fang Xinghe had specially dyed his hair a pure red.

The sides were shaved down to just green stubble, while the hair on top, neither long nor short, was styled with wax into a tuft resembling a burning dark-red flame.

With a maxed-out appearance score of 99, it meant his perfect bone structure could match any hairstyle.

Now that his whole face was revealed, he was absolutely slaughtering everyone.

To highlight that unruly temperament, the scheming boy had also shaved his eyebrows a bit thinner, adding another three points of sharpness.

The effect was so shocking not only to them, but Fang Xinghe himself was about to become narcissistic.

Generally, only shallow men care excessively about their own looks, but Fang Xinghe felt he was different—I'm not shallow, I'm specially shallow!

Gaga gaga~~~

As for why it was red hair...

Slam Dunk had just finished not long ago, and Jordan's deification had driven the expansion of the basketball craze; with such high-quality heat to ride, what kind of troll leader would you be if you didn't take advantage of it?

Now he was truly impatient to get to the exam venue; when the time came, he would slaughter wildly, brutally leaving no grass growing in the sea of blood, forcing reporters to actively write articles praising him.

My first meeting with readers nationwide, does that count as the most sincere one?

It must count; the media will love him to death.

When Old Fang entered the classroom, he habitually glanced toward the back, suddenly slapped his forehead, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Fang Xinghe, what are you up to again?"

"Bringing glory to our alma mater!"

Fang Xinghe lied with a straight face: "I'm going to the Magic Capital to compete soon; that place is already extremely xenophobic. We can't let people think we're from the countryside, otherwise even if we win, we'll be seen as just having gotten lucky with dog shit, don't you agree?"

"Hiss... when you put it that way, it really seems necessary..."

Teacher Fang smiled bitterly and shook his head, then took out a certificate: "Here, your competition certificate. Keep it safe; absolutely do not lose it."

Fang Xinghe didn't need to ask for leave to go out and play, but for the competition, the school had to issue a certificate; otherwise, Group B wouldn't recognize it, and he would be classified into Group C.

"Thank you, teacher. By the way, you should manage Fang Yuting; she's been pestering me again recently..."

Fang Yuting, who was quietly sneaking over, widened her eyes in shock, her whole body trembling with rage and turning ice cold.

Is this man a dog?

Can't you restore your cold arrogance and unruliness?

No.

Fang Xinghe raised an eyebrow at her, then happily watched as her own father grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her away.

The result was that Lu Tingting got the benefit—she could just turn her head and cling to the Eagle King.

However, without Fang my lord charging ahead, she returned to being quiet, obediently studying with her male god, which was very cute.

Studying on one side, exercising on the other, time flew by quickly.

On March 23, Fang Xinghe embarked on his journey once more.

That so-called fast train to the Magic Capital wasn't actually much faster, but since this time the ticket could be reimbursed, Fang Xinghe chose a sleeper berth.

Having been steeped all the way in the mixed smell of stinky feet, scallion pancakes, corn tea eggs, and white liquor cigarettes, Fang Xinghe dashed off a new essay titled "The Jianghu on the Green Train."

His focused writing posture attracted the big sister on the bunk opposite.

She was truly a wonderful sister in her prime, mature and elegant, intellectual with big breasts, radiating an aura that attracted bees and butterflies.

Ever since she boarded the train in the Imperial Capital, the other two big brothers in the same carriage had tried to strike up a conversation more than once, but unfortunately received only polite and distant rejections.

As a result, she actively extended the branch of nectar to Fang Xinghe, wanting to chat.

"Little student, are you creating something?"

"Sister, get straight to the point."

Fang Xinghe looked up and glanced at her, then casually withdrew his gaze.

"If you're bored, I'm busy. Do you like this face, or are you just looking for someone to kill time with? Come up with a plan."

"You child are really interesting."

The sister completely put down the "Soul Mate" in her hand, showing every sign of digging to the root and having a long chat.

But when Fang Xinghe saw the magazines on her table—"Soul Mate," "Translated Forest," "Reader," "Youth Digest"—he really didn't want to deal with her.

Later, this bunch of concentrated chicken soup turned the tables and shifted their ground abroad, but he still knew the old joke about "high-concentration Yilin."

They just bullied the current Chinese people for not having seen the outside world, forcibly prying their mouths open, shoveling dog food in, and if you wouldn't eat, they'd whip you with a stick... what the hell is this?

So even though a manuscript fee of one thousand yuan per thousand characters was within easy reach, Fang Xinghe had never thought of submitting to them.

As a Gen Z reborn person, he would rather starve to death than leave behind such a dark history.

Fang Xinghe really didn't want to deal with her; he found this kind of early-era female literary youth with only big breasts very annoying.

But, the sister was just too good at this... she brought so much food!

So Fang Xinghe responded half-heartedly, during which shamelessly mooched four buckets of Master Kong instant noodles, two bags of vacuum-packed braised chicken, four bags of Niutou beef jerky, and various fruits, snacks, and AD Calcium Milk.

The two big brothers were so envious their corns turned red, but how could they learn this? There was no way to learn it.

Then, chatting until almost getting off the train, Fang Xinghe still revealed nothing of his background, while the sister even spilled the story of her ex-boyfriend owing money and not paying it back.

During that time, she asked several times: "You seem quite mature; are you really not yet eighteen?"

Facing her subtle hope, Fang Xinghe smiled at her in a particularly ungentlemanly way: "More than eighteen, is that okay?"

That smile was purely for show—the high-sugar-content, shallow smile of idols in later eras who knew they were handsome, carefully practiced to maximize their charm.

Who wouldn't be confused by that?!

The Young Lady's ears instantly turned slightly red; she shyly covered her mouth, and her eyes began to hold the seductive look that often overflows after a woman has fully ripened.

Then she sat down on the lower bunk over here, which was Fang Xinghe's berth.

Perfect, new writing material has been acquired too—"The Years I Was Chased by Rich Women Everywhere I Went."

When the draft of the new article was finished, Shanghai finally arrived.

Fang Xinghe pulled up his pants and left—a rhetorical metaphor; he hadn't actually taken them off.

Shanghai thirty years ago was a sight Fang Xinghe could never have imagined.

The area near the train station was chaotic, extremely chaotic.

It wasn't clean after exiting the station either; the red-armband volunteers were trying hard, but unfortunately, the places they could actually manage were very few.

Thus, the moment Fang Xinghe showed his head, he was targeted by ill-intentioned thieves, black-car drivers eager to start their shifts, old ladies who might or might not be scammers, and hotel proprietresses dressed up like flowers shouting, "Our girls are good-looking."

How wonderful, Shanghai is so enthusiastic.

Fang Xinghe slapped away a hand reaching toward him and swept a sharp gaze over; that wretched, skinny man immediately walked away as if nothing had happened.

There are plenty of targets; if one is hard to handle, just switch to another; no need to stubbornly persist.

The competition staff had explained in advance how to take the subway, but before Fang Xinghe could execute it, the Young Lady forcibly pulled him to turn toward the opposite side of the road.

"Let's go, little brother; wherever you need to go, I'll take you."

The moment he saw her ugly, boxy Mercedes-Benz, the young man instantly realized that the gold content of his looks was still continuing to rise.

Fine then, let's hitch another ride.

Arriving at the intersection of Zhaojiabang Road and Dong'an Road in the Young Lady's car, Fang Xinghe signaled that he had arrived.

Before getting off, the Young Lady stuffed another business card into his hand and instructed, "If you have any trouble, call me immediately."

"Okay, thank you, Sister Lei."

Fang Xinghe's attitude was extremely well-behaved; then, after getting off the car and crossing the intersection, he casually threw the business card into a trash can.

This Shanghai Young Lady, obviously from the second generation, could indeed solve many troubles, but the troubles she herself carried far exceeded Fang Xinghe's current level.

So, let our fate end here; let us forget each other in the rivers and lakes; I have no business sticking to you.

Little Fang walked away carefree, but he didn't know that the Young Lady had been watching him from inside the car until she saw him throw away the card; she gritted her teeth while laughing: "Little rascal! Acting so proud, truly annoying..."

What a coincidence, isn't it?

Li Qigang, the general secretary of the New Concept Organizing Committee, also had arrogance as his first impression of Fang Xinghe.