The Poor School Heartthrob Was Secretly a Financial Titan - Chapter 19

“The tip I received from the foreigner today.”

As Zhao Xiurong took the money, the weariness on her face faded considerably.

“Giving tips again? You kid, how come you run into foreigners every day?”

Han Xuetao smiled but didn’t reply. He turned and went into his small room, changing into an old T-shirt. He casually took off his backpack and hung it on the hook of the bookshelf.

The bag in the bookcase was bulging.

Today was a great day—we beat up Zhou Cheng and his gang, getting a total of 68,000 yuan. We gave 20,000 yuan each to Liu Jun and Bao Da, and kept 28,000 yuan for ourselves. Adding to what we got a few days ago, we now have a little over 30,000 yuan in hand.

Han Xuetao stared at the bag, making plans in his mind.

This money definitely needs to be given to my parents, but not now. Pulling out 30,000 yuan at once would definitely scare them—these days, an ordinary worker couldn’t save that much even after ten years of work.

We need to find the right time.

Once I get to Ninghai and go to university, I’ll figure out a solution later. I’ll make up an excuse, like starting a small business with a classmate. My parents will nag, but it’ll be better than this.

At that time, I’ll have to trick my parents into going to Ninghai for a full medical check-up.

In his previous life, less than two years after he went to prison, his parents were both diagnosed with serious illnesses and passed away one after the other. It’s hard to say they don’t have underlying health issues. His father, in particular, was depressed because of the mess at the factory and loved to smoke; he definitely had lung and heart problems.

We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.

Just then, I heard footsteps outside.

Zhao Xiurong took the sixty yuan and went into the bedroom. A moment later, her father came out instead.

Han Defu, wearing his old coat and with his hair disheveled, clearly had just been woken up. He took two steps into the outer room, stopped, and called out to Han Xuetao’s room:

“Xiao Tao, come out for a moment.”

Han Xuetao pushed open the door. “Dad? You’re still awake?”

“I have something to tell you,” Han Defu said.

Han Xuetao nodded: “Dad, please sit down. I’ll pour you a glass of hot water.”

Turning around, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a thermos and an enamel mug, and poured a cup of hot water. When he brought it out, Han Defu was already sitting on the old sofa, with a green tool bag at his feet—the kind of canvas bag that electricians often use, worn white at the edges after several years.

Han Xuetao handed over the water, which Han Defu took but didn’t drink; he put it on the coffee table.

He bent down, picked up the green tool bag, placed it on his lap, and unzipped it.

Inside was a package wrapped in old newspapers, neatly square.

Han Defu opened the newspaper, revealing the money inside—stacks of ten-yuan, fifty-yuan, and one-hundred-yuan notes, neatly bundled together.

He handed the money to Han Xuetao.

“Take this money, eight thousand yuan. Count it.”

Han Xuetao was stunned.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

Han Defu looked at him with a deep gaze and an exceptionally serious tone.

“You have to go to university. You can’t ruin your future for eight thousand yuan.”

He shoved the money into Han Xuetao’s hand.

“I had your mother return the three thousand your uncle brought last time. That matter over there is settled.”

Han Xuetao opened his mouth.

“dad……”

“I can’t sell my son’s future for this little money,” Han Defu said. “Take this 8,000 yuan and use it to pay tuition. It should be enough for one or two semesters. As for the rest, Dad will figure something out for you later.”

Han Xuetao looked at the toolbox and the stacks of money inside, and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He looked up at his father.

“Dad, did you buy out your years of service?”

Han Defu nodded.

“It’s been bought out.”

He spoke calmly, without the resentment he usually displayed when discussing this matter. “That lousy company doesn’t respect people, and there’s no point in staying there. I refuse to believe that I’ll starve to death if I leave that lousy factory.”

He took out a cigarette and lit it.

“With my strength and skills, how could I not support this family? How could I not send my son to school?”

Han Xuetao held the bag in his hands; it was heavy.

Eight thousand yuan.

My father worked for twenty-three years and earned eight thousand yuan.

He remembered that just a few days ago his father had slammed his fist on the table and said, “Impossible! Even if the mayor came, let alone the factory director, he couldn’t explain this!”

Now he took the eight thousand yuan back and stuffed it into his son’s hand.

Han Xuetao’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

He lowered his head, staring at the old toolbox, not daring to lift it.

“Dad…” he began, his voice a little hoarse, the rest of the words stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

Han Defu stood up and patted him on the shoulder.

“Alright, go to sleep early.”

He gave a few more instructions, finished his cigarette, picked up the cup of hot water on the coffee table, took a sip, and turned to go into the bedroom.

The door closed.

Han Xuetao stood there, holding the bag, for a long while. Then he went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and cold water gushed down. He splashed the water on his face, then splashed it again.

I looked up and saw myself in the mirror.

Her eyes were still red.

He couldn’t remember the last time he cried in his past life. Maybe it was when he was released from prison and learned of his parents’ deaths? Or maybe even earlier. In the years that followed, he had weathered countless storms and forgotten what it felt like to cry.

But just now, he almost couldn’t hold back.

What he didn’t know was that the few dozen yuan “tips” he brought home every day for the past few days were the final straw that made his father make up his mind.

My son is so capable; he can earn several tens of dollars a day from his summer job.

How could he, as the father, let his son down? How could he hold his son back?

This afternoon, Han Defu went to the factory, found the factory manager, and voluntarily asked to buy out his years of service.

The factory manager was stunned after hearing this and asked the question several times:

“Old Han, are you alright? Didn’t you slam your fist on the table and say you weren’t going to buy it a few days ago?”

Han Defu didn’t explain, he only said one sentence:

“I’ve thought it through, let’s do it.”

Han Xuetao returned to his bedroom, looked at the backpack hanging on the bookshelf, and suddenly smiled.

He wants to give the money to his parents and is still looking for an opportunity.

As a result, his father gave him eight thousand yuan instead.

“Dad,” he said in a low voice, “you’re so annoying…”

As I laughed, my eyes started to sting again.

“…It makes me want to cry again.”

He rubbed his face, stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and wanted to put the tool bag his father had given him inside—

The hand stopped in mid-air.

Something flashed through my mind and then suddenly exploded.

Han Xuetao’s expression changed.

“not good!”

……

When Li Man arrived home, Gu Aizhi was knitting a sweater in the living room.

Hearing the door open, she looked up and stopped needlework.

“Oh, what happened?” She put down her sweater and stood up. “Why are your eyes so red?”

Li Man paused in her shoe-changing motion, then remained silent.

Gu Aizhi walked over and looked closer: “What happened? My daughter cried twice in two days of work?”

Li Man pouted, and that feeling of grievance welled up again.

“Mom…” she tugged at Gu Aizhi’s arm, “You don’t know, I ran into those gamblers again today!”

Gu Aizhi frowned: “We’ve run into each other again?”

“There’s something even scarier!” Li Man gestured. “There are several bald men in the room today, covered in tattoos, with arms this thick, they’re like walls when they stand there! They scared me to death!”

After her daughter finished speaking haltingly, Gu Aizhi’s expression changed.

“What a lousy place!” She pulled Li Man down to sit. “With such poor management, we’d rather not do this kind of work! We’re not going there anymore!”

Li Man shook her head: “No.”

Why not?

“How can you give up halfway through something?” Li Man said. “If I only go for two days and then quit, people will laugh at me.”

If Han Xuetao can do it, why can’t I? Just because he’s a boy? I’m the class monitor! You’re scared off because of a little thing? People will laugh at me!

“I’m going again tomorrow,” she said. “I’m determined to finish this summer!”

Gu Aizhi opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

She thought to herself: I don’t know what Lao Li was thinking. What’s so great about letting Xiaoman do such a lowly waitress job? If she really wants to work part-time to adapt to society early, she should find a proper company!

But she didn’t say it aloud.

Old Li generally doesn’t concern himself with trivial matters at home, but once he makes a decision, he’s always a man of his word.

“Okay, okay,” she waved her hand, “If you’re going, go the day after tomorrow. Mom has made an appointment with Aunt Liu tomorrow, so you can come with Mom to have dinner.”

Li Man was taken aback: “Which Aunt Liu?”

“It’s Uncle Zhou’s family from the court,” Gu Aizhi said. “Don’t you remember? Aunt Liu came to our house when you were little and even held you. She brought her son, Xiao Cheng, who is about the same age as you. They both graduated from high school this year, and I heard he applied to Ninghai University.”

Li Man frowned, somewhat displeased, and said, “How old was I back then? What could I possibly remember? We haven’t kept in touch since, and now you suddenly want to invite me to dinner?”

Gu Aizhi patiently explained, “Aunt Liu invited us to go on a trip together. Now you insist on working as a waitress instead of going. Why don’t you have a meal with her and tell her in person? She’s so enthusiastic. Your Uncle Zhou works at the court and often interacts with your dad at work. You have to do your duty to save face.”

Li Man was at her wit’s end.

“Then let’s agree to only have this one meal,” she pouted. “Don’t keep bringing this up.”

“Okay, okay, just one meal.”

Gu Aizhi returned to the sofa and continued knitting. Li Man poured a glass of water and sat down beside her.

The TV was on, but she didn’t pay attention to what drama was playing.

While I was drinking water, a scene suddenly came on TV—a girl was startled by something, screamed and jumped up, landing on the boy next to her, wrapping her legs around his waist and hugging his neck, refusing to get down.

Li Man paused, her cup still in her hand.

The images from today flashed through my mind.

At the door of room 508, she bumped into Han Xuetao’s arms, hugged him tightly, and cried uncontrollably.

He whispered something to himself, but she didn’t hear it. Then he put his arm around her and led her away.

She was so terrified that she didn’t have time to think.

This image suddenly popped into my head, and my face instantly burned.

“bass!”

Li Man stood up.

Gu Aizhi was startled: “What’s wrong?”

“No…it’s okay, it’s hot!” Li Man walked quickly to the refrigerator, opened the freezer compartment, took out a bottle of iced cola, and gulped down half of it before the burning sensation subsided a little.

She held the iced Coke bottle to her face and took a few deep breaths.

“Mom, I’m going to take a shower!”

The door slammed shut.

Gu Aizhi sat on the sofa, looking at the door, somewhat bewildered.

This kid used to be quite mature.

What’s going on these past two days?