Chapter 51

Today’s afternoon match produced a major upset.

Li Lifen, known as the “Six-Fingered Keyboard Demon,” averaged only 141 characters per minute in the Chinese character input competition, performing far below her usual standard.

Fang Qingye, a young employee from the Nanxin Branch with no prior reputation, typed at 151 characters per minute and won first place in this event.

The Nanxin Branch finally secured its first championship in any competition, lifting the spirits of all team members and lifting their overall ranking to the middle of the eight teams!

After the competition came the award ceremony; Fang Qingye went onstage to receive his prize, taking the certificate and a red envelope marked with 20,000 yuan from the branch leadership.

But showing up to collect the award in a tank top and shorts looked rather absurd.

Of course, the envelope didn’t actually contain twenty thousand yuan— the bonus would be transferred directly to the winner’s salary card afterward.

After the competition, the team ate dinner in Jinghai, then happily returned to Nanxin by bus.

Fang Qingye naturally drove his own car home.

Back home, Fang Qingye quickly took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and felt refreshed and invigorated.

His phone, lying on the bed, rang; he picked it up and saw it was Xia He calling, so he answered.

“Are you home yet?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I never expected you to type that fast.”

“You’ve said that already several times,” Fang Qingye said, exasperated: “Senior, you’re way too excited today!”

“Of course I’m excited—you don’t know how many new hires our bank used in this competition; every other branch was waiting to laugh at us. You saw how Director Hu looked before the match! Afterward, he was completely deflated... Hmph!”

“This also proves from another angle that my decision to heavily promote new hires into the competition was entirely correct!”

“Senior’s decision is correct! Senior’s decision is brilliant!” Fang Qingye replied lazily.

“Heh... that’s a good cheer. And don’t worry—I won’t treat you like a typist; that would be a waste of you. I’ve already told Director Wu not to assign you any extra typing tasks!”

That’s more like it...

Fang Qingye had genuinely worried about this issue.

In the workplace, the more capable you are, the more work you get.

But with Xia He, this problem didn’t exist.

“Hey, Xiao Fang, you just won twenty thousand yuan—on the bus, everyone said you should treat us,” Xia He added.

“Senior, I can understand others asking me to treat them, but you can’t say that... I fought for the unit and for you, and now you’re not treating me—you’re trying to squeeze me for cash?!”

“Don’t worry—I’d never shortchange our hero! Yesterday I already discussed it with Director Su: for all award winners, the branch will match the division’s bonus amount! Now are you satisfied?”

So that’s another twenty thousand yuan?

That’s more like it...

“Satisfied! Senior, next time we play ball, I’ll pay for the court!” Fang Qingye replied with a smile.

“Stingy! At least add a bubble tea!”

On Friday, Fang Qingye and Xia He went to Yikangyuan to play ball—he indeed paid for the court and the bubble tea.

After playing, Xia He sipped her bubble tea contentedly, sighing as she drank:

“Ah, I’m done.”

“What’s done?”

“I’d already quit bubble tea, but since I started playing ball with you, I’ve started drinking it again... I’m getting fat, and it’s all your fault.”

Fang Qingye picked up his bubble tea, took a sip, and ignored her.

Life returned to calm; his attention turned to the stock market.

Beijing Tourism, which started on June 20 at around 12 yuan, had surged to 29 yuan—up 1.41 times—time to sell!

After playing ball and returning home at night, Fang Qingye logged onto Tonghuashun and placed a sell order for all 1,240 lots of Beijing Tourism at 29.0 yuan.

Just waiting for the market to open tomorrow to collect the money!

He closed Tonghuashun and quietly logged into QQ.

Surprisingly, the Dongguan girl’s avatar didn’t flash today.

He glanced at a few classmate groups—all idle chatter, nothing valuable, so he ignored them. He’d left several stock groups, and the ones he hadn’t left were mostly muted—no need to check.

As for that “IQ over 150” idiot group, he didn’t even bother opening it.

The next day, all stocks were sold; he netted 2,245,387 yuan, bringing his total funds to roughly 3.59 million yuan!

Not bad, not bad...

Fang Qingye was satisfied—could he call himself a small millionaire now?

For now, he’d take a break.

Making money wasn’t urgent—he’d take it slow. If he spent all day thinking only about money, what difference would it make from before his rebirth?

Fang Qingye closed Tonghuashun and opened Warcraft.

On August 8, the Olympics opened in Beijing, drawing the attention of the entire nation, as everyone immersed themselves in the joy of the sporting spectacle.

Fang Qing didn’t care much.

Aside from badminton, he had little interest in other sports, and besides, he’d already seen them before his rebirth.

But Zhang Yimou’s Olympic opening ceremony was truly excellent; after seeing later ones—especially Tokyo and Paris—he wondered what the hell those were.

A circus of demons.

When he came home from work that afternoon, his father Fang Jianwen—who rarely ate lunch at home—had returned early. Over dinner, Fang Qingye heard his father say: “Xiao Ye, tomorrow your mother and I are going away for a while.”

Oh...

The critical period for middle school admissions had arrived; over the past few days, people had been coming to his father one after another. Clearly, he was about to disappear again.

“Where are you going?” Fang Qingye asked.

“We’ve planned it—we’re going to the Hulunbuir Grassland. Plane tickets are already booked.”

Oh wow... what a great place to hide.

Fang Qingye muttered inwardly, then asked again:

“Where are you flying from? Huijing or Shanghai?”

“Shanghai—direct flight to Hulunbuir.”

“Then I’ll take a day off tomorrow and drive you to the airport?” Fang Qingye suggested.

His father refused: “Just go to work! We’ll take the train or bus ourselves!”

But his mother said: “Isn’t it better for our son to drive us? It’s scorching hot—why force yourselves onto crowded buses? Don’t waste good fortune... Xiao Ye, take the day off!”

“Okay!”

After dinner, Fang Qingye sent text messages to Wu Shengli and Xia He, explaining he had family matters and needed a day off—he received approval quickly.

The next morning, after breakfast, Fang Qingye loaded his parents’ luggage into the trunk and drove them on the highway straight to Shanghai. It took three full hours to reach Hongqiao Airport.

He found a nearby restaurant for lunch, then saw his parents through security before driving back to the county. He got home by nearly five in the afternoon.

No one was home—freedom!

He turned on the air conditioning, took a shower, changed into a tank top and shorts, and didn’t bother cooking. He went to a restaurant outside his compound and ate a bowl of fried rice with fermented soybeans. Too hot to go anywhere—he returned home and prepared to turn on his computer and play Warcraft. The game hadn’t even loaded when someone knocked on the door.

He left his bedroom to open it and saw a middle-aged man, nearly forty, standing at the threshold, clutching a briefcase under his armpit.

“Is Director Fang here?” The man smiled broadly when he saw Fang Qingye open the door.

“My dad isn’t home—he’s traveling with my mom,” Fang Qingye said, standing at the door and making no move to let him in.

The man’s face fell with disappointment. He pressed: “When will he be back?”

“I don’t know exactly, but he’ll definitely return before school starts.”

The man hesitated, then said: “I’m Zhang Jie. Everything I’m asking your father to do is written in this envelope. Please pass it on to him.” He pulled out a thick envelope from his briefcase and shoved it into Fang Qingye’s hand.

“No, no,” Fang Qingye quickly refused: “I can’t take it—my dad would kill me if I did. Here, I’ll give you my dad’s phone number—you can call him directly.”

“Alright, alright, thank you!” The man slipped the envelope back into his briefcase, descended the stairs, and pulled out his phone—clearly intending to call.

Fang Qingye smiled inwardly.

Good luck getting through!

Fang Jianwen’s phone had dual SIM cards—his work number had long since been turned off...