Epiphanies of Rebirth 35
Chapter 35
Shiku Lane ran through one of the oldest residential areas in the northern quarter of Yan City. To reach it, one had to drive north and pass through ten intersections, starting from the 2nd Middle Road, a kind of “boundary” which denoted where the urban area ended.
This was where farmers used to live. As time passed, due to the implementation of various policies, there were fewer and fewer people working the land for a living, and most residents eventually moved to the southern and eastern parts of the city. Shiku Lane became increasingly deserted and the large swath of farmland surrounding it was left without anyone to care for it.
The two pieces of land that Lin Jingzhe bought were adjacent to each other. They added up to 500,000 square meters, and together, formed a rectangle which enclosed almost the entirety of Shiku Lane.
This residential area was not an attractive place. The houses there were old and shabby, with courtyard gates corroded by rust and mostly left ajar for that very reason; in those places where there were still residents, one could see bicycles chained in place. This was actually one of the main reasons locals preferred to move away from this location: a complete scarcity of public transport. Nowadays, public transportation in Yan City was developing well, and the other three urban areas were connected with a dense network of bus lines, the most popular way for residents to commute to work. The northern area, however, consisted mostly of farmland—there weren’t many roads, and it followed that bus stops were sparse as well.
Developing real estate there would be no easy matter; even the deep-pocketed Dominion Properties had been dragging its heels when starting a project. Hu Shaofeng felt he was completely justified in calling the person who took that piece of land off Qi Kai’s hands a nitwit.
He held on to this opinion until the man he had sent to discreetly investigate brought back news.
New… Beginnings… Real… Estate…
Doleful, he shambled into Xiao Chi’s office.
He really didn’t expect that the “nitwit” would be Lin Jingzhe and wished he could swallow his words back—if Lin Jingzhe was a nitwit, then what would that make them?
Flux Realty and New Beginnings were cooperating. If Lin Jingzhe was incinerated by this fire he was playing with, their five million’s worth of investment would likely go down the drain.
Five million yuan was not a small amount for Hu Shaofeng. He’d pondered whether he should go talk with Lin Jingzhe in person but found that he couldn’t summon the courage, so the only thing he could do was come and complain to Brother Xiao.
Alas, he became one of the snitches he despised, but he really had no choice!
Upon hearing the news, Xiao Chi was unruffled. In other people’s eyes, Lin Jingzhe’s actions were irrational, but Xiao Chi had no problem with seeing his point of view, probably because their styles of thinking were similar.
The only thing that surprised him a little was that Lin Jingzhe had been willing to become involved with Qi Kai. Moreover, that piece of land was just too big—even if, objectively, the price for each square meter was not high, when it was multiplied by more than 300,000 square meters, it turned into an amount that few people were willing to pay. This was one of the reasons why Dominion Properties had failed to get rid of it sooner despite listing it for sale for so long. From what Hu Shaofeng’s man managed to discover, they seemed to have given Lin Jingzhe a sizeable discount.
After Lin Jingzhe integrated his two plots at Shiku Lane together, he had in his hands almost 500,000 square meters. With this single move, he made the land that originally nobody wanted much more attractive. If the northern side of the city was really going to be developed…
Qi Kai would foam at the mouth.
Unfortunately for him, Xiao Chi believed that the development of the north quarter was not far off in the future. After listening to Lin Jingzhe’s outlook for the future, he spent some time thinking about this matter. After an in-depth study, he discovered many points that he and the entire real estate industry in Yan City had failed to notice.
One of the most obvious was the development plan of the neighboring Changqing Province. Property developers tended to pay the most attention to changes in their own land; even the relatively far-sighted Xiao Chi couldn’t escape this flaw at times. Changqing Province, to the northwest of Yan City, had been developing rapidly in recent years due to the government’s support. It was a province focused on industry, with a large number of factories and new ones constantly opening as companies continued to relocate to it. It was also rich in mineral resources, and at the end of 1988, a huge reserve of a rare-earth mineral was discovered there, sending a shock through the whole country.
This rare-earth element happened to be one of the essential elements for the development of military power. Therefore, the status of Changqing Province immediately jumped upwards, and it gained much more prominence and influence. The mountainous area where the mine was found gained a network of expeditiously constructed roads, and it was said that at a meeting last year, someone had proposed to build a high-speed highway to Yan City.
A highway to Yan City? As a road leading directly to the seat of power, it should be called an elevator to the sky.
But after the news came out, there were no signs that this idea was being implemented, and it had been forgotten over time. Following this sudden hunch, Xiao Chi made some discreet inquiries.
The highway construction had been decided! Work would begin within five years!
In order to prevent profiteering, the news was kept strictly under wraps. However, unsurprisingly, Changqing Province could not maintain secrecy as well as Yan City, and it was a cinch for Xiao Chi to get the information.
Not only the news about the construction, but he even got the highway’s general route and planned junctions, as well as all the land surveyor data submitted until now.
He immediately realized that the highway would usher in a new wave of prosperity to the part of the city where its exit would be.
At present, the highway construction plan had not been finalized yet, so no one could be certain as to which urban area was about to become a land of gold, but Xiao Chi could think for himself.
The north quarter, currently empty, was the most reasonable choice.
This was why he’d been so determined to get those plots of land in the north at the last land auction.
There were still some things that surprised Xiao Chi, though. He’d thought that Lin Jingzhe was just a smart person who saw only a bit further than others and wanted to secretly grab a slice of the pie. He never expected that under the other man’s tender exterior, there actually dwelled an appetite not smaller than his own.
It was really…
So cute.
As for Qi Kai—Xiao Chi did not care if he would suffer. That guy was arrogant, overbearing, and had a strong backing; he was like a stinky piece of dog shit stuck to Elder Qi. Xiao Chi found him so aggravating that he itched to find someone to scrape him off. If he hadn’t cared for Elder Qi, he would have already done so.
Buddha was merciful. The Bodhisattva said that the solution to vexation was peacefully staying away from the source of the problem, so Xiao Chi found someone to beat Qi Kai up and then, using both overt and covert means, ran him out of Yan City. After that, Qi Kai was extremely unlucky, to a point where he even involved the Qi family, weakening it greatly.
The Bodhisattva’s advice was never wrong!
The dog days of summer had unnoticeably given way to autumn cool, and this season in Yan City tended to be short. Soon, people who not too long ago had been tortured by the scorching heat were hurriedly putting on winter clothes.
It was much colder here than in Qunnan Province. By the time winter break arrived, ordinary cotton-padded clothes were not enough to keep out the cold, and the heated dormitories became refuges of spring warmth amidst the world of ice and snow.
It was the first time students from southern provinces were encountering such weather, and it was difficult for them to get used to it. Lu Xiaojing spent the mornings sleeping in his dorm room, tightly wrapped in a quilt, and skipping morning classes. Chasing love, Wang Jun gritted his teeth and braved the severe cold. Only the hardworking Chen Jiankang dutifully continued going to the library every day.
Lin Jingzhe called Zhou Haitang’s dorm room to discuss the date of their return to Liyun Town—Spring Festival was coming, everyone needed to go back.
On Lin Jingzhe’s bed lay a fluffy and soft, pure white down jacket. The jacket wasn’t a loose style with baggy sleeves, widespread these days, but was a tasteful, straight-cut model—uncommon, and as such, not cheap. After the weather started to grow cooler, Mother Zhou bought two for each of the children, one black and one white.
In this era, it was easy for individual businesses to make money, and Zhou Haitang’s parents’ food stall was extremely popular. They seemed to have already repaid their debts in Liyun town, including the worker who falsely accused Father Zhou of speculating in the stock market—he was the first person Mother Zhou paid off. Apparently, after receiving the money, the other party called Hu Yu to ask about the Zhou couple’s contact details, but Hu Yu refused to tell him.
Now that his mom and dad were in clover, Zhou Haitang had money and more than enough to spare. A pity he basically never used it—now that his meals were taken care of by his parents, he could go around for half a month without spending even 100 yuan.
He shared his ambitious plans with Lin Jingzhe: “I want to save money, every cent that I can, and buy a computer.”
The freshman courses at the computer department of Wutong University were on track, and Zhou Haitang and Gao Sheng had already gained some insight into the strange world of computers. After grasping the basics, the magic of data and programming fascinated the two boys, especially Gao Sheng. According to Zhou Haitang, Gao Sheng had become so interested in the field of their studies that he even took the initiative to borrow books from the library and joined a school club to research strange codes all day long. The group was composed of a number of outstanding students in the computer department, almost all of them male, and according to Zhou Haitang, all of them were extremely boring—they were only interested in computers and had close to no social life.
Zhou Haitang was somewhat uneasy, worrying over whether Gao Sheng would become like this in the future.
Regardless, he wanted to buy a computer as soon as he could. The club could only use the school’s computer room for two hours every day, so Gao Sheng’s group often went out early in the morning and returned late at night since, without the access to the computer room, the club members could only gather in the dorm room of one relatively affluent member, taking turns to use his computer. Zhou Haitang felt sorry for the Gao Sheng who sometimes was struck by inspiration in the dorm room but could only jot codes down by hand in his notebook.
At this time, there were no Internet cafes in Yan City; many people had never even heard of the concept of a “network”. It was still three or four years before the first Internet cafe in China would open, and only after 1995 would they spring up in cities of all sizes like mushrooms. By then, computers would already be present in thousands of households. At present, computers were very expensive—even the cheapest one cost at least 10,000 yuan. Zhou Haitang might be getting a lot of pocket money now, but this sum was still far away for him.
Lin Jingzhe silently noted it down in his memory. He never thought that Gao Sheng would become genuinely interested in computers; it was beyond his expectations. However, since things turned out like this, his friends should indeed be provided with a computer.
Although he owed a lot of debt, that didn’t mean he was lacking money—he’d borrowed 40 million against the land he owned, and though he spent most of it to buy the land from Dominion Properties, he still had some left. As such, he didn’t hesitate to turn his plans into action. The next day he was relatively free, he dragged Gao Sheng out to buy a computer.
At the moment, something like an Electronics City didn’t exist yet, and buying a computer was troublesome. You had to find the right electronics store, there was almost no selection to choose from, and sometimes you still had to make a reservation and wait. It was just as well that Spring Festival was around the corner—by the time the students were back after the winter break, the computer should’ve already arrived.
Gao Sheng would’ve never agreed to receive such a valuable thing as a computer, so Lin Jingzhe said that he wanted to buy it for himself. As a result, Gao Sheng not only accompanied him, but he also brought his fellow club members, saying that they would help Lin Jingzhe avoid being cheated as some of them already owned computers and more or less knew the market prices.
And so, Lin Jingze was able to meet what was probably one of the first batches of IT specialists China would produce.
They normally nested in the university’s computer room and refused to leave their den—Zhou Haitang and Gao Sheng practically dragged them out of the school. This group of young men walked around the road with hunched backs and weary looks on their faces, dressed in randomly chosen clothes and thick winter jackets as this cold day demanded. Upon meeting Lin Jingzhe, they greeted him a bit stiffly; after that, unless their professional opinion was needed, they were so silent and quiet they might as well have been invisible.
As Zhou Haitang put it, they were “a bunch of eccentric, unsociable beings”.
The computers in this era were completely different from the desktops and laptops of twenty years later: the rear end of the monitor was large and the system unit was even larger, both heavy and ugly. The resolution and color quality of the display should also be passed over in silence. However, the moment they saw the computer, this group of youths who appeared to have no interest in anything seemed as if they were reuniting with a long-lost girlfriend—all of a sudden, they were full of spirit and crowded around the machine, the continuous clatter of computer keys resembling battle drums.
Gao Sheng originally acted as an intermediary between the two groups, but later was drawn into the conversation and joined the keyboard-tapping team. They opened some kind of program and discussed something using terms that Lin Jingzhe didn’t understand, typing in alien terms and codes. The owner of the electric appliances store watched them like a hawk, fearing that this group of ill-mannered youths would damage the valuable item.
Zhou Haitang tried to wake them up, but they were too engrossed in what they were doing. They looked to be very satisfied with this computer though—from what Lin Jingzhe did pick up in their mysterious language, they seemed to praise it as being better than the one in the school’s computer room.
Since they were happy with this model, Lin Jingzhe pulled the boss aside—the man wasn’t willing to move more than a step away—and asked about the price.
A complete set cost nearly 25,000 yuan. It was really expensive: that year, you could buy a car or, in a smaller city, even a house with that amount. Lin Jingzhe did not hesitate to pay the deposit of one-third of the price directly; the remaining two-thirds would be paid after the computer was delivered and confirmed to work without error.
At this point, the real destination of the computer could no longer be hidden because the delivery address filled out on the form was the address of Gao Sheng’s dorm room.
Once he was aware of Lin Jingzhe’s intentions, Gao Sheng refused immediately. He was so scared he jumped to his feet from the stool in front of the computer desk. It was something worth more than twenty thousand yuan! How could he accept it?
However, once Lin Jingzhe decided to give something to someone, he never gave that person any room to refuse. Gao Sheng could never successfully dissuade Lin Jingzhe even before his rebirth, let alone now, when he was much more experienced and cunning. Lin Jingzhe simply refused to let himself be dragged away until he finished filling out the form.
After leaving the shop, the club members instantly became calm and quiet again, the liveliness they had radiated a moment ago disappearing as if it was just an illusion. The only difference was that on the way back, they all began to sneak glances at Lin Jingzhe.
No one had expected that this computer would be bought for Gao Sheng. Most of the young people who entered the computer department this year had their own reasons—few of them actually came because they were interested in computers. Even if they developed an interest in them after entering school, getting the understanding and support of their families was rare. Computers were still an unfamiliar world. Ordinary people in China had no understanding of them; many only knew that you could play some games on them, and believed that studying computer science was not a serious endeavor. As such, although most of the club members were well-off, only a few of them had their own computers.
Gao Sheng and Zhou Haitang joined the ranks of the lucky ones, and the person who fulfilled their wish was not even a relative, but a friend of the same age!
This man must have amazing financial resources and must care about his friends very much. He was a good person!
Gao Sheng felt guilty after failing to turn down the computer. This was something he’d dreamed of, but he was not very happy—he never forgot that Lin Jingzhe still owed 700,000 yuan in Shen City. God knew how long it would take to pay that debt off, but now he was spending more money to buy them a computer.
Gao Sheng was glum. At this time, Wu Wangfei, the leader of their interest group, and Liang Pi, the vice-leader, came to find him.
Both of them were quiet in front of strangers, but when the club members chatted with each other and discussed things in their areas of expertise, they were always lively and bubbling with enthusiasm. Wu Wangfei asked shiftily, “Gao Sheng, isn’t your handsome friend very rich?”
Gao Sheng refused to take the bait. “No comment.”
“Come on! We’re all comrades-in-arms who have been fighting together for so long. You can ignore me but can you ignore our great cause, the holy computer code?” Wu Wangfei insisted, undeterred. “Your friend is clearly rich since he spent tens of thousands so easily, and he was willing to buy you a computer, which proves he’s smart and farsighted. Let’s bring him on board.”
Gao Sheng was a little unhappy. “What do you mean? You want to take advantage of him, don’t you?”
“No, that’s not what we mean,” Liang Pi said, pulling Wu Wangfei away and replacing him in the conversation. The way he spoke was more rational and organized: “Gao Sheng, you’ve been a member of the club for so long, don’t you know us yet? You know very well how groundbreaking the architecture we’re working on is.”
Gao Sheng fell silent for a while. The club’s current subject of study still went mostly over his head—it was a structure as large and complicated as some of the cases mentioned in the textbooks, focusing on real-time messaging. It drew from a similar application program popular abroad, but a few fresh ideas made it much more innovative.
For Gao Sheng, who already had a preliminary understanding of coding, it was something amazing, and it held a profound significance for other members of the club. Everyone met to discuss it every day, forgetting to eat and sleep as they strove to implement their ideas in the limited amount of time when they could use the computer room; every small bit of progress made them burst out in cheers of joy.
Wu Wangfei was the main initiator of this project. He had great expectations for the fruits of all their effort, and was absolutely certain that what they were studying would push the Internet into a new era. It was said that in foreign countries, computers were becoming more and more popular and many households with sufficient economic ability already purchased one. Many companies specializing in Internet technology had been set up overseas. The industry was developing rapidly and had a promising future.
However, in China, his ambition encountered countless splashes of cold water.
Wu Wangfei was two years older than Gao Sheng. He came up with the concept of this program two years ago and all along, he had been looking for a business partner capable of supporting his research. By now, his team had basically been established, but he still failed to find an investor.
He had no connections and wasn’t good at speaking; let alone strangers, even his family wasn’t supportive of his idea. To many, the vast virtual world he talked about was an illogical fairytale and researching it was bound to be useless. Didn’t this virtual world need people to exist? His “vast virtual world” required innumerable participants, but how much did a computer cost? How high was the current average income in China? How many households could afford a computer?
It had such a small share in the economy that it was probably preceded even by vendors selling breakfast on roadside stalls. Only a sucker would be willing to invest money into it.
After he mustered the courage to recommend his idea several times but got a cold reception each time, Wu Wangfei was even more afraid of communicating with others. He was like a lone soldier amidst enemies, besieged on almost all sides by people who questioned his goals and spared no effort to dispel his notions. His family had already planned out his future: he’d go to work in a danwei after graduating, get married, and have children—a proper way of life for ordinary men.
Under this contrast, the existence of Lin Jingzhe, who was willing to spend huge sums of money to buy a computer for a friend, was simply a life-saving straw.
Liang Pi’s situation was similar to that of Wu Wangfei. They and the other members of the club had put almost all their pocket money into the development of the program, but it was just a drop in the bucket compared to what was needed. They had persisted alone for too long and had been exhausted in the face of various difficulties; if they couldn’t find a sponsor with abundant funds, it was hard to say how much longer they would be able to keep their dream alive.
“M Country can do it, so why can’t we?” Liang Pi asked. “How many computers were there in China in ‘85, and how many are there now? Who would dare say that computers won’t become common tools in the future? We’re all confident in this project, aren’t we? It will be a great undertaking, and if it succeeds, we will go down in history!”
Gao Sheng did subconsciously believe that the project was feasible, but since it also carried a huge risk, he was reluctant to drag Lin Jingzhe into it. Although many Internet enterprises had been set up in foreign countries and the industry was beginning to take shape, this wasn’t yet the case in China.
The first person to eat a crab might taste something delicious, but more often than not, the first bite had to be taken with a conviction to risk death.
Wu Wangfei squatted beside the bed with his hands on his knees. His posture was casual to the point of being sloppy, his clothes were rumpled, and his face was tired, but his eyes burned with a strong light—
“The First Industrial Revolution was humans going from using only their hands to using machines. In the Second Industrial Revolution, humans began to use electricity… So many industrial revolutions have turned the world into what it is now. Don’t you think a new revolution is about to begin?”
As Wu Wangfei continued, there was a slight tremble in his voice. “I can already see that era—one in which everyone will use the Internet to know what’s happening in the world without leaving home, to study, to socialize, to entertain themselves, and even to solve basic necessities of life like food or clothing!”
“If it does happen, it will probably be at least a hundred years from now!” Gao Sheng was torn between laughter and tears at Wu Wangfei’s zealous appearance, but there was no doubt that he’d been persuaded.
I won’t try to convince Jingzhe to join us, but it shouldn’t do any harm to mention it. Gao Sheng thought that his friend was much smarter than himself and perhaps would have some fresh ideas that could help the group out of their predicament.
He hesitated for a long time, then let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll mention it to him, but only that, and I won’t hide all the risks from him.”
“Of course!” Wu Wangfei immediately sprang to his feet. “I’ll go with you, I know this project best! Don’t worry—I’m looking for a business partner so naturally I’m not planning to cheat him. Your friend is a good person, I can tell!”
Two weeks after New Year’s Day, winter vacation began. Yan University, along with most other colleges and universities in Yan City, immediately became half-empty as students rushed home like baby birds returning to their nests. Before Lin Jingzhe went back to Qunnan, he asked Fang Wenhao to take him to buy some things.
Liyun Town was different from Yan City—it would take at least four or five years for the things already popular here to spread to the small town in the south. The goods available in the capital were also much more diverse and abundant. Lin Jingzhe bought some good-quality, warm in nature medicinal materials, such as Chinese ginseng, Codonopsis pilosula, American ginseng, and so on. After that, he went to a mall to purchase several fashionable dresses and exquisite jewelry, and naturally, all kinds of cigarettes and alcohol couldn’t be forgotten. Once the essential purchases were finished, he was free to do some shopping for himself.
He had a habit from his last life: wearing new clothes for the New Year. When he was a child, they were given to him by his grandfather. After he became an adult, no one bought them for him, so he bought them himself.
The high-end shopping mall in the northern part of the city, which he was most familiar with, hadn’t opened yet. Instead, Fang Wenhao brought him to the most bustling commercial district in the eastern quarter, where most of the famous brand-name shops were gathered. The Chinese economy was recovering quickly and the wealthy were springing up overnight; international brands with some foresight had begun entering the domestic market some years earlier.
This part of the city was probably Fang Wenhao and his group’s usual stomping grounds—as he took Lin Jingzhe around, he’d already greeted several friends.
Lin Jingzhe wore the long, white down jacket Mother Zhou had bought for him. His face was almost buried in the high collar, making it appear even smaller. Everyone asked about him, thinking that Lin Jingzhe was Fang Wenhao’s distant cousin.
Being hailed constantly, inevitably followed by a round of greetings and introductions, was rather annoying, so Lin Jingzhe asked Fang Wenhao to sit down and drink tea with his friends while he went shopping by himself.
He wasn’t picky about the brand, but due to his real age, he couldn’t help but be partial to clothes that looked more mature and casual. As he walked around, a few of the men’s clothing stores caught his eye and he bought several pieces of clothing for himself and picked some for Gao Sheng and the others.
He had a bit of trouble though, since his friends’ heights seemed to have gone up again recently, probably from Mother Zhou’s stew—they were now even bigger than in his previous life. Lin Jingzhe held a jacket in the size Gao Sheng used to wear, unsure if it would fit him now. As he scrutinized it, hesitating, he heard a startled voice behind him: “Lin Jingzhe?”
He turned around and saw Hu Shaofeng tilting his head like a monkey. When the other man met his gaze, a smile appeared on his face. “It’s really you, Brother Jingzhe. I just saw your back and thought it looked familiar!”
Lin Jingzhe’s silhouette was graceful, and the shape of his head looked particularly elegant, which was easy to see as his hair was short. He stood tall and straight, with a slender neck and slim shoulders, and simply from the sight of his back, one could guess how handsome the face in front was.
Due to becoming business partners, the relationship between the two parties had eased a lot. Since Hu Shaofeng greeted him so enthusiastically, Lin Jingzhe smiled as well. “Hello, Brother Shaofeng, what a coincidence.”
His gaze moved to the person from whom Hu Shaofeng was almost inseparable, and his smile converged a little. “Mr. Xiao.”
The difference in the form of address clearly indicated the degree of intimacy. Xiao Chi glanced at Lin Jingzhe’s polite expression and slightly pursed his lips. Inwardly, he was going ‘!!!!!’ but it didn’t show on his face. “Mr. Lin.”
Lin Jingzhe looked at the girl accompanying them. She was very beautiful, but her temperament seemed a little cold. She stood beside Xiao Chi—was she his girlfriend?
He inquired, “This lady is…?”
“My sister, Xiao Miao,” Xiao Chi replied, and the girl nodded in greeting.
After Xiao Chi finished the introduction, he glanced at the paper shopping bags next to Lin Jingzhe’s feet. He recognized the brands since he’d just visited these shops with Xiao Miao. Lin Jingzhe bought so many things—for his girlfriend?
How henpecked! For shame, did he have no spine? Couldn’t she buy clothes herself? And he even had to choose them by himself—what about a man’s dignity?!
Xiao Chi was inexplicably angry. What he hated most was buying clothes! If it weren’t for Xiao Miao being in a low mood because Qi Kai was back in Yan City, he never would’ve accompanied her shopping even if she was his only sister. He felt that a big man picking and choosing clothes was very unmanly, and on top of that, then you had to try them on and look at yourself in the mirror in a public place with numerous people present! And so, his clothes were usually all bought by Xiao Miao.
It took Xiao Chi a moment to snap out of his daze and look away from the English letters on the bags. When he glanced up, he saw that Lin Jingzhe’s gaze was focused on him, a rare occurrence.
‘???’
He inconspicuously stood a little straighter.
Lin Jingzhe suddenly found that Xiao Chi was almost the same height as Gao Sheng, with Xiao Chi being just a tad taller and having slightly wider shoulders. The size he wore should fit his friend.
Thinking so, he asked, “Mr. Xiao, what size of jacket do you wear?”
Xiao Chi froze, then looked at him with bewilderment. Lin Jingzhe decided, ‘Might as well,’ and raised the leather jacket he held. “Anyway, would you mind trying on this jacket, Mr. Xiao?”
Xiao Chi: “?!?!?!”
He cleared his throat and replied, “Okay.”
He threw the coat hanging over his elbow to Hu Shaofeng, took the jacket Lin Jingzhe handed to him, and put it on.
It was made from wonderfully soft leather with superb workmanship, in a style that was currently fashionable. It looked very good on Xiao Chi’s tall, wide-shouldered and narrow-waisted figure.
Lin Jingzhe nodded, quite satisfied with the result. “How does it look?” he asked.
Great, very comfortable! It fits just right! You have such a good eye, you picked a jacket randomly and it’s just a perfect size for me!
A wave of sweetness flooded Xiao Chi’s heart. He turned left and right in front of the shop mirror, his expression much softer than usual. “It’s very comfortable, and the size is just right.”
Then he heard Lin Jingzhe say, “Okay, then I’ll take this one.”
Xiao Chi was pleasantly surprised, though he didn’t know why he was so pleased. Lin Jingzhe obviously couldn’t wear this size—was he buying this jacket for him?
He suddenly felt that the leather jacket looked extremely good and was particularly comfortable, so much that he didn’t want to take it off.
Filled with enthusiasm all at once, his sharp gaze swept around the shelves and racks in the vicinity a few times, then he grabbed several hangers with clothes and pushed them into Lin Jingzhe’s arms. “You try them on too.”
Does he also want to buy clothes for a gift? Lin Jingzhe thought. Xiao Chi gave him such a pile of clothes that he was a little unwilling, but it was hard for him to refuse since the other party did the same favor for him.
So he had to put them on one by one, from vests to cardigans.
Xiao Chi seemed extremely casual, signaling to the clerk to wrap a piece of clothing up almost as soon as Lin Jingzhe tried it on.
After the whole ordeal finished, Lin Jingzhe felt exhausted. He paid for the leather jacket by swiping his card and stood aside, politely waiting for Xiao Chi to check out.
Due to the number of clothes, it took several minutes. As the shop clerk packed them in bags, Lin Jingzhe raised the bag with his leather jacket, wanting to say goodbye to Xiao Chi and leave.
But a large, lean hand suddenly sprang out and grabbed the handle.
Xiao Chi clutched the bag, bowing his head and thanking him with a warm voice: “Thank you, Mr. Lin. I like this New Year’s gift very much.”
Lin Jingzhe stared blankly as he took away the jacket that was supposed to be for Gao Sheng, leaving the clothes that he paid for on the counter and walking away… away…
Gone…
Lin Jingzhe: “?????”
Hey, what would Gao Sheng wear for the New Year now?!
Hu Shaofeng: “?????”
If he wasn’t mistaken, Lin Jingzhe just wanted Brother Xiao to try on the clothes to help him choose the right size, right? Did he perhaps miss something?!
Xiao Miao: “???”
What the heck? Was the guy who just picked clothes excitedly the same one who looked bored to death in the women’s clothing store just now?!
Xiao Chi: “……”
He was very happy. He liked shopping for clothes the most!
Translator’s Notes:
- Wu Wangfei asked shiftily, “Gao Sheng, isn’t your handsome friend very rich?” – lit. ‘like a chicken thief’ [鸡贼]. It means a cheapskate, someone very stingy, who finds cunning and clever ways not to spend money or get more paying less, sometimes very petty. (A Chinese article with some examples.)
This word comes from a half-fictional character with the nickname of “Zhou Bapi” 周扒皮 which was well known during the 1950s and 60s.
“Zhou Chunfu 周春富, who owned over 200 hectares of farmland in Dalian, was also identified as a landlord. His story became widely known after the soldier-writer Gao Yubao’s semi-fictitious autobiography depicted Zhou as a landlord who allegedly mimicked a crowing rooster to get his hired laborers to work early. ”
In that fiction, Zhou was then mistaken as a chicken thief and shot by a Japanese soldier. The novel grew so popular in the 1950s and 60s that this word became a phrase in some areas. - Two weeks after New Year’s Day, winter vacation began (…); What would Gao Sheng wear for the New Year now (…) – this isn’t a mistake. The New Year’s Day mentioned first is one in the Gregorian calendar, January 1st. The New Year/Spring Festival mentioned thorough the chapter refers to the beginning of a new year according the traditional Chinese calendar or lunar calendar. The first day of Chinese New Year begins on the new moon that appears between 21 January and 20 February. The winter vacation lasts for approximately one month, and it includes the Spring Festival which lasts for 15 days. (Chinese New Year)
Translator: Eques
Editor: Luoshenhua
Consultant & proofreader: Austera
Eques:
There’s now a free Russian translation of DPB. This reminded me of a certain unpleasant matter and the fact that I’ve never mentioned it to EoR readers, so here we go:
A group on a certain Russian site, tl.rulate.ru, MTL-s and posts my translations. That would’ve been fine – as long as it was for free. Unfortunately, they paywall the chapters, which means the Russian readers have to pay for reading them. No, they don’t release free chapters at all – except for the first seven, the rest is all paywalled. That group have never asked for permission to use my translations (and they wouldn’t have gotten it anyway). I’m not going to contact them since the unpleasant situation with DPB already proved it would be futile, just be warned that what they’re doing is illegal. Yes, making money from the author’s work without holding a license IS ILLEGAL. This is pretty much the same as selling pirated movies.
So, the people who translate/MTL EoR into Russian, can you please honestly buy the novel on JJWXC and translate it by yourselves, without involving me? It’s enough you’re stealing my translation, I don’t want to suffer legal consequences because of you.
Excuse me for being rude but what happened with DPB exhaused my patience with the people from that site.
This isn’t going to affect EoR’s releases but be aware this matter is making me very unhappy.
I almost passed out from laughing so hard. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Thank you for your hard work.
” Every small bit of progress made them burst out cheers of joys” as an IT student, yep I definitely relate to this! And I really reallyyyy have the same prob as GS since being an I T student need a computer but I don’t have one . Yeah really sucks! You can’t implement your code on your paper so you really need computer🥺💚 not only I failed when I was on my first year, still I am unable to graduate because of thesis! Yeah computer is God! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
OMG IM LAUGHING XIAO CHI IM REALLY LAUGHING RIGHT NOW 😂😂😂
Someone! I feel the second embarrassment 😭💀🤣
Xiao Chi… brother, noo.
I am terribly ashamed of our Russian translators, unfortunately most of the translators from that site sin this. They translate from a FREE English translation, and put up a paid translation. (although there are many who translate from Chinese for free, but not about that). I honestly admit that such piracy is very common in our country. But this site is generally overkill. THANK you for the translation, I am very sorry that you are faced with such a situation. I would really like to send donations to the original authors, but I have no idea how to do it… Read more »
Okay, so the ML fell first and shockingly hard despite their VERY rough first meeting and second meeting. Hopefully he can persevere enough to crack the MC’s tough outer shell and get to the soft, kind, and sweet interior. Apparently the MC is a chestnut.