Chapter 3: I Think I Know How to Make Money

Eight in the morning, the morning light had scattered away.

A burst of urgent cicada chirping drifted in through the window, finally rousing Chen Yansen from his slumber.

The room of barely more than ten square meters was crammed full of all sorts of things—three tall stacks of books and tutoring materials, two tall stacks of mock exam papers, and by the window sat a lacquered red wooden desk, likewise buried under books.

A poster of Xu Song was stuck to the wall, the style very non-mainstream.

"Get up, go make money!"

Chen Yansen checked the system, then pulled out his phone to glance at the time, and finally gave up hope—this was 2010, he couldn't go back.

He threw on a short-sleeve shirt, walked into the bathroom, and started brushing his teeth and washing his face.

Chen Yansen's home was a two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment, barely sixty square meters in total. It had originally been a family building of the salt industry company, and ten years ago Old Chen had bought it for thirty thousand yuan.

When it was demolished in 2020, the compensation came to a full four hundred and eighty thousand yuan.

A sixteen-fold increase!

"I'll find time to talk to Old Chen, get him to buy up the two apartments upstairs too—after all, it's a deal that can't lose."

Chen Yansen brushed his teeth and let his mind wander.

If you want to make money, you've got to get some seed capital first!

He'd already done the math last night—altogether he had just over three hundred yuan on him, and he'd even dug out the loose change he'd hidden in his stinky socks.

Looks like he'd have to 'borrow' a bit from Old Chen first!

Anyway, when the old man eventually kicked the bucket, that money would be his anyway; he was just taking it in advance, nothing wrong with that!

Thinking of this, Chen Yansen wiped the water droplets from his face, followed his memory, and slipped into Comrade Chen Guobin's master bedroom.

The nightstand, the second photo album.

Chen Yansen found two bank cards without any trouble—one belonged to Old Chen, the other to his mother, whom he had never met.

For years, Chen Guobin had deposited a sum into each card every year, as Chen Yansen's college fund and future expenses for marrying a wife and having kids.

The password, Old Chen had told him in person!

In 2018, Old Chen fell seriously ill; if Chen Yansen hadn't desperately pulled strings and found a hospital, there was an eighty percent chance he wouldn't have pulled through.

After Old Chen came to, the first thing he did was tell Chen Yansen where the two bank cards were and the passwords.

"A man like Old Chen actually managed to raise a scumbag like me."

Chen Yansen laughed at himself.

He flipped to the last page of the album—there was a yellowed old photograph; without lamination, it would long since have fallen to pieces.

In the photo, Chen Guobin was in a sharp suit, tall and straight, grinning foolishly, with a gentle, graceful young woman leaning against his shoulder in a linen dress, her face full of smiles and happiness.

As someone who'd been through it, Chen Yansen understood his father's feelings perfectly well.

A love that slowly fades usually doesn't torment a person for too long; it's love cut off abruptly that drives a person mad.

His wife had died in a difficult childbirth, leaving behind a baby wailing for milk.

Old Chen had been both father and mother to raise Chen Yansen to adulthood.

Of course, no one is a saint—when he was little and got into mischief, driving Old Chen to the brink of emotional collapse, the old man would also unceremoniously kick him hard with his big foot.

Hitting him while crying and cursing: "If it weren't for you, my wife wouldn't have died!"

That was when he realized that, for Chen Guobin, the son was just an accident—the wife was the true love.

After enough beatings, Chen Yansen's stubborn temper flared up too; he wouldn't even call him 'Dad' anymore, going around calling him 'Old Chen, Old Chen' all day.

In a way, the drive and boldness he later had when starting his business were also kicked into him by Old Chen, one kick at a time.

"Mom, the money you saved for your son—I'm taking it to use first. Later I'll marry you a few more daughters-in-law."

Chen Yansen grinned shamelessly at the photo.

With that, he put Old Chen's bank card back in its place and tucked his mother's bank card into his pocket.

He pulled out his phone and called Wang Zihao.

"Haozi, ten minutes, meet me at the crossroads."

Chen Yansen said straight out.

"To the internet cafe?"

Wang Zihao's words were muffled—he clearly hadn't woken up yet.

"Only kids play games all day. Daddy's taking you to make money!"

Chen Yansen said, speechless, telling it like it was.

"Huh? You mean, going to do a summer job?"

Wang Zihao scrambled up from the bed, looking astonished.

It was damn near August already; since the gaokao ended, the two of them had been hanging out at internet cafes and pool halls every day—forget finding a summer job, they hadn't even gone to take their driver's license test.

"Cut the crap, get over here now."

Chen Yansen couldn't be bothered to argue and hung up directly.

Then he went downstairs, found a Giant bicycle in the hallway, plopped down on it, and pedaled out leisurely.

Halfway there, he realized he hadn't eaten breakfast.

So when he finally saw Wang Zihao, the guy immediately charged over and started spraying: "You bastard Chen Yansen, please, for the love of God, act like a human being! You said ten minutes, but you're a whole half hour late."

Water splashed everywhere, spit flying!

"Here, knew you hadn't eaten, brought you breakfast."

Chen Yansen wiped his face in disgust, quietly stepped back, and handed over a cup of soy milk and a tofu-skin roll with a youtiao.

"At least you've got some conscience, you little punk."

Wang Zihao let out a sheepish grin, grabbed them in one go, and started chewing and gulping in big bites.

"Right, why'd you suddenly think of doing a summer job? Out of pocket money? I've still got two hundred, take it first."

Wang Zihao slurped down a mouthful of soy milk and fished out two hundred yuan from his pocket.

"Work? There's no way I'd ever work in this lifetime."

Chen Yansen said, waving a hand.

"You're not planning to take me to sell myself, are you? Let me tell you in advance—my Big Lao Wang family has clean and upright traditions. Selling out my dignity and body is something I absolutely cannot do."

Wang Zihao laughed roguishly, his belly rolls jiggling nonstop.

"You wish. Even if you wanted to sell yourself, someone would have to actually buy you."

Chen Yansen shot back mercilessly.

Eighteen-year-old Wang Zihao was a bit chubby, stood one meter seventy-eight tall—four centimeters shorter than him—and wasn't all that handsome either. What rich older woman would stomach that kind of rough fare?

"What do you mean?"

Wang Zihao glared, clearly a little unconvinced.

"Exactly what I said."

Chen Yansen's tone was airy, his eyes teasing, his face full of mockery.

"Forget it, let's not talk about that. Are you really breaking up with Zhou Keyuan?"

Wang Zihao changed the subject.

"Have I ever even been together with her? We're not boyfriend and girlfriend, so there's no 'breaking up' to speak of."

Chen Yansen retorted, looking completely indifferent.

"That's true enough."

Wang Zihao couldn't figure out his best friend's romantic changes, but from the other's attitude it wasn't hard to tell that Zhou Keyuan was already a thing of the past.

"Internet cafés, luggage, digital audio-visual, milk tea, clothing, supermarkets, mobile phones, beauty and daily chemicals, idol shops…"

Chen Yansen stopped responding and turned his gaze toward the rows of shops not far away.

He was considering which industry and which product to start with to quickly scoop up his first pot of gold.

Plans kept flashing through his mind, only to be passed over one by one.

"I know too little about this era. Better sweep the whole street first, then decide."

After a moment's thought, Chen Yansen actively cut off his train of thought.

"I'm done eating. Where to now?"

Wang Zihao wiped his mouth and looked up to ask.

"Sweep the street."

Chen Yansen swung himself onto the bike and rode south. Whenever he spotted a shop that interested him, he'd stop, walk in, look at the goods, and ask the prices.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Wang Zihao, seeing how serious and methodical he looked, asked curiously.

"Talk less, learn more."

Chen Yansen didn't bother explaining, focusing intently on studying the goods in the display window.

"Nokia 5200, priced at 850"

"Hua Tian k801, priced at 988"

"Sony Ericsson t303c, priced at 999"

"Bird v788, priced at 1388"

"Ramos mp3, priced at 159"

"Tsinghua Unisplendour mp4, priced at 399"

"…"

Chen Yansen recorded the prices with great interest, and a money-making plan gradually took shape.

Before 4G networks were fully rolled out, in a marginal small town like Spring Shen, whether clothing and general merchandise or digital products, there was a huge information gap compared to first-tier cities in both stocking and pricing.

Information gap is cash!

"Haozi, come with me to the internet café again. I think I roughly know how to make money now."

Chen Yansen grabbed Wang Zihao and ran outside.

"Forget the money, just take me instead. I'm about to drop dead from exhaustion."

Wang Zihao was drenched in sweat. After spending the whole morning accompanying Chen Yansen through four streets, his calves were trembling, and being yanked like that nearly made him drop to his knees.

"You wish. 'Take you'? More like take your sister."

Chen Yansen stopped to wait for him, saying irritably.

"You beast! My sister is only fourteen this year!"

Wang Zihao knew his best friend was joking, but that didn't stop him from taking the chance to curse him out.

"Heh, she really is fourteen this year, but she's more scheming than any forty-year-old."

Chen Yansen cursed under his breath.

In his previous life, he had nearly stepped into the graveyard of marriage, and the chief culprit was Wang Zihao's own sister—Wang Ziyan.

Fortunately, he came to his senses in time, corrected his ways, and returned to the open sea.

He didn't keep going further and further down the wrong path.

"How could I, Chen Yansen, hang myself from a single tree! In this lifetime, I must stay far away from her."

Chen Yansen silently resolved himself.

(End of this chapter)