The Poor School Heartthrob Was Secretly a Financial Titan - Chapter 10

The floor manager saw him and nodded. He responded with a sound through his mask and continued working.

He wiped the tables, mopped the floor, cleared away cups and saucers, and refilled the tea. He moved around the entire sixth floor, his hands never idle.

Actually, they were keeping an eye on 612’s movements.

Liu Jun’s current identity is that of a middleman from Guangdong, who met Huang Xiaolong on the train—the son of a textile factory director.

After the meal, Huang Xiaolong invited Wei Tao and Zhou Cheng over. Wei Tao’s maternal grandfather was a retired deputy director of the People’s Congress, and Zhou Cheng’s father was a presiding judge of the court. As soon as these two sat down, Liu Jun knew they had fallen into his trap.

For two consecutive days, I attended every single session.

9:15.

The door to room 612 opened.

Several people emerged, their faces grim. Huang Xiaolong led the way, his chubby face ashen. Wei Tao followed behind, head bowed. Zhou Cheng emerged last, the mole on his lip twitching with each movement of his cheek.

Liu Jun walked at the back, a smile plastered on his face.

“Young Master Zhou, Young Master Wei, Young Master Huang,” he said, cupping his hands in greeting, “I’ll treat you tomorrow, let’s go to a bigger place. And this card game, we need to raise the stakes, playing for a penny or two isn’t fun!”

The three men looked even worse, and without saying a word, they strode away.

Liu Jun stood there, waiting for them to walk away before his smile faded. He turned and walked towards the restroom.

Han Xuetao followed him in with a mop.

In the restroom, Liu Jun looked around, took out a wad of cash from his pocket, counted out six bills, and handed them over.

“I won 1,600 today, so I’ll keep 1,000 as capital.”

Han Xuetao took the money and put it in his pocket.

Is one thousand enough?

“That’s enough.” Liu Jun lit a cigarette. “Three greenhorns, trying to gang up on me? They’re too naive.”

Han Xuetao nodded. “Don’t let your guard down. They’ve been deliberately keeping you on their toes these past few days.”

“I’m not a fat sheep, I’m a fat wolf.” Liu Jun grinned. “Besides, there’s your Tyrannosaurus Rex outside, Master. I’ll devour them without hesitation.”

Han Xuetao asked, “How’s your technique practice going?”

Liu Jun’s eyes lit up: “That card-switching trick you taught was brilliant! You switched cards right in front of them, and none of the three of them noticed.”

“Practice slowly. I’ll teach you a few more moves later,” Han Xuetao said.

Upon hearing this, Liu Jun rubbed his hands together excitedly.

“Alright, let’s get going. Don’t rush the rest; let them fall into the trap slowly.”

Liu Jun stubbed out his cigarette, pushed open the door, and left.

Han Xuetao took out the six hundred yuan and looked at it.

He works as a waiter here, earning five yuan a day, 150 yuan a month. His mother was laid off and does odd jobs, earning only about 100 yuan a month. This 600 yuan is equivalent to half a year’s work for him.

In two days, he had already received more than a thousand yuan from Liu Jun.

I get off work at 10 p.m.

He went home and opened the door; the house was quiet.

The door to Father’s room was closed, and the light was off. Mother sat at the old table in the outer room, sewing a sweater by the light of a table lamp.

The dim light shone on her face. She squinted, sewing slowly, stitch by stitch.

Han Xuetao stood at the door, feeling as if something had squeezed his heart.

In his past life, he wondered if his mother had also done the same, lighting a lamp and waiting for her son who would never return.

“mom.”

Zhao Xiurong looked up, saw it was him, and smiled.

“You’re back? Are you hungry? I’ve left some rice for you in the pot.”

Han Xuetao walked over and sat down at the table.

He hesitated for a moment, then reached into his pocket, pulled out a fifty-yuan note, and placed it on the table.

Zhao Xiurong was taken aback. She put down the sweater in her hand, picked up the bill, and looked at it.

“Where… did this come from?”

“I earned it by working,” Han Xuetao said.

Zhao Xiurong stared at him, her eyes widening slightly.

Her son had told them about working a few days ago. He wanted to do some part-time work during the summer vacation to get some exposure to society. She and Han Defu discussed it and felt that their son was old enough to get some experience. They didn’t expect him to earn much money; they just wanted him to broaden his horizons.

He’s only been gone a few days?

“Didn’t you just go?” Zhao Xiurong asked.

“Three days,” Han Xuetao said.

“Fifty dollars in three days?” Zhao Xiurong’s voice changed. “Tao Tao, tell Mom the truth, where did this money come from?”

Han Xuetao had already prepared his explanation.

“There are foreigners at the place where I work,” he said. “A few foreigners came today, and the waiters couldn’t understand them, so I went over and chatted with them for a bit and helped them order. The foreigners were happy and gave me a tip.”

“Tip?” Zhao Xiurong had never heard of this term before.

“It’s a reward,” Han Xuetao said. “Foreigners like this.”

To be honest, Han Xuetao really wanted to give all 1,000 yuan to his mother, but that would definitely scare his parents!

Sure enough, Zhao Xiurong’s expression relaxed slightly upon hearing this, but she immediately tensed up again.

“This money… doesn’t need to be handed over to the store? Doesn’t your manager say anything to you?”

“I’ve already handed over the big prize,” Han Xuetao said. “It was a reward from the manager. He said I know English and that I’ve brought honor to the store.”

As Zhao Xiurong listened, she gradually felt relieved.

She held the fifty-yuan note, turning it over and over to look at it several times, and suddenly her eyes started to sting.

“My son can earn money for his mother now,” she looked up at Han Xuetao, smiling, her eyes sparkling. “Mom is happy, so happy.”

Looking at his mother’s smile, Han Xuetao felt a surge of bitterness welling up inside him.

He lowered his head, picked up the steamed bun on the table, and began to eat it heartily along with the leftovers from the plate.

In his past life, he was so successful and so rich, but his parents were gone. They never saw any of the money he earned, the villas he bought, or the luxury cars he drove.

This life will be different.

He looked up at his mother.

“Mom,” he said, “when I make money, I’ll buy you a big villa and let you live in the best house.”

Zhao Xiurong was amused by his words.

“A villa?” She shook her head with a smile. “How much would that cost? Mom probably won’t live to see that day.”

“We’ll see,” Han Xuetao said, chewing on a steamed bun. “I’ll even buy you a car so you can go wherever you want. You and Dad can enjoy your retirement from now on.”

Zhao Xiurong smiled so hard her eyes crinkled, and she reached out to pat his head.

“Mom doesn’t expect villas or cars,” she said. “I’ll be at ease once you settle down at your workplace, find a wife, and start a family.”

Han Xuetao didn’t say anything more and continued eating with his head down.

After finishing her meal, Zhao Xiurong put away the bowl, took the fifty-yuan note, and pushed open the door to the inner room.

The room was dark, and Han Defu was lying on his side, seemingly asleep.

Zhao Xiurong walked over, sat down on the edge of the bed, and nudged him.

“Wake up, wake up.”

Han Defu turned over and opened his eyes groggily.

“what?”

Zhao Xiurong slapped the fifty yuan on his arm.

Han Defu looked down and was stunned.

“Where did the money come from?”

“Your son earned it,” Zhao Xiurong said, her voice brimming with barely suppressed joy. “Your son speaks a foreign language, and today he served some foreigners, who gave him a tip. Their manager even rewarded him!”

Han Defu was fully awake.

He sat up, picked up the bill, and looked at it in the light coming in from the window.

“You’ve only been gone a few days?” he asked.

“Three days,” Zhao Xiurong said.

Han Defu stared at the bill for a long time without saying a word.

If you earn fifty in three days, how much will you earn in a month?

Wouldn’t that be five hundred!

His monthly salary is 328 yuan, and he often doesn’t even receive the full amount.

Zhao Xiurong chimed in, “Isn’t my son better than you? Education really pays off. He’s the only one in the whole hotel who can speak English!”

Han Defu did not respond.

He stared at the fifty-yuan note, gazing at it blankly for a long time.

Then he scratched his head and sighed.

“Xiao Tao should go to university,” he said softly.

The smile on Zhao Xiurong’s face slowly faded.

The room quieted down, with only the occasional bark of a dog coming in from outside the window.

Neither of them spoke again.