The Poor School Heartthrob Was Secretly a Financial Titan - Chapter 20

A middle-aged man, balding and wearing thick glasses, sat on the living room sofa, talking to his mother while holding a teacup. Two gift boxes, bright red in packaging, sat on the coffee table; they were clearly malted milk powder.

“Principal Liu, I’m really counting on you for this,” the man said with a beaming smile. “You know the situation in our class, do you think you could…”

Before she could finish speaking, she saw Zhou Cheng come in, immediately stood up, and smiled even more broadly.

“Hey, Xiao Cheng’s back?” He rubbed his hands together. “I heard he did well on the college entrance exam? When the acceptance letters come out, Principal Liu has to let us know so we can all have a drink together!”

Zhou Cheng glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

Liu Xiumei waved her hand: “The results haven’t come out yet, so it’s hard to say. Besides, his father doesn’t allow the family to hold these kinds of events.”

The man gave a thumbs up: “Judge Zhou is truly strict with himself!”

Zhou Cheng, too lazy to look at this sycophant, turned to Liu Xiumei and asked, “Mom, where’s Dad?”

“They haven’t come back yet,” Liu Xiumei said. “They might be a little late today.”

Zhou Cheng nodded: “Then I’ll go back to my room.”

He went into his room, closed the door, but didn’t turn on the light.

I stood behind the door and listened to what was happening outside—the bald man was still rambling on and on, and his mother was only half-heartedly responding.

Zhou Cheng gently opened the door, peeked in, and seeing that no one was paying attention, he crouched down and quietly slipped into his father’s study.

The study was small, with a table, a chair, and a large dark red cabinet against the wall.

Zhou Cheng walked over and opened the cabinet door.

Inside, various gift boxes were neatly stacked—Moutai, Wuliangye, Zhonghua cigarettes, Longjing tea, and several boxes of exquisitely packaged American ginseng.

Zhou Cheng reached in familiarly and groped around among the boxes at the very back.

The first item was a box containing Moutai liquor. He opened it; it was empty, lined with a red silk cloth, and underneath the cloth was a stack of money—about two thousand.

He took out a few sheets, spread out the red silk cloth, covered it, and put it back in its original place.

The second box. The same procedure was followed, and a few more cards were drawn.

The third item was a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes, in two cartons, with an envelope inside containing a thick wad of paper.

He weighed it in his hand and pulled out half of it.

He quickly saved up seven or eight thousand yuan.

He put the money in his pocket, then reached for the box of American ginseng. Just as he opened it, the door creaked open.

Zhou Cheng’s hand trembled, and the box almost fell to the ground.

Zhou Jianguo stood at the door, holding a briefcase, his face so gloomy it looked like it was about to drip water.

“Dad…Dad?” Zhou Cheng’s throat tightened. “Why are you back?”

Zhou Jianguo looked at him, then at the open box in his hand, and said in a flat voice:

“You enjoy unpacking boxes so much?”

He came in and sat down in the chair.

“Keep unpacking. Take all these boxes apart and give me an account. I want to see how much money you’ve made in total over this period.”

Zhou Cheng stood still, without moving.

Zhou Jianguo slammed his hand on the table: “Tear it down!”

Outside the study, in the living room, Liu Xiumei, who had just seen off her guests, heard the commotion and hurried over.

“Old Zhou, what are you doing?” She pushed open the door, grabbed Zhou Jianguo’s arm, and pulled him out. “Why are you getting so angry at the child? This isn’t a courtroom!”

Zhou Jianguo was pulled out by her and sat on the sofa, his face still looking very unpleasant.

“If only this were a courtroom,” he said. “I’d sentence him to ten years immediately and let him reflect on his actions in there!”

Liu Xiumei frowned: “How can you talk like that? It’s your own son, and you want to arrest him?”

“You keep spoiling him,” Zhou Jianguo said, lighting a cigarette. “If you keep spoiling him like this, it won’t be long before I end up in jail myself!”

Liu Xiumei sat down next to him and reached out to press his arm.

“Alright, alright,” she lowered her voice, “Is the transfer still not going well?”

Zhou Jianguo took a drag of his cigarette. “In officialdom, there are always more wolves than meat. Which position isn’t coveted by a bunch of people? This time, the competition is especially fierce.”

Liu Xiumei said, “Why do you have to be transferred out? You’re doing just fine as the presiding judge now, aren’t you?”

Zhou Jianguo shook his head: “The ceiling for the public security, procuratorate and judiciary system is too low. If I don’t transfer out of this system and go to work in the government, my future growth will be limited. And my age is also a factor.”

He paused, his voice turning serious: “Otherwise, why do you think I went to such lengths to get Xiao Cheng into Ninghai University?”

Liu Xiumei fell silent.

She’s a school principal, but her son’s grades are poor, and her husband has to find connections to help him. It doesn’t sit well with her when this is brought up.

“I think Xiao Cheng is having a hard time pursuing Sun Tingting, the daughter of Director Sun. That girl is just like her father; she’s very materialistic and always looking up to others,” Liu Xiumei said indignantly.

Zhou Cheng emerged from the study at some point and stood at the entrance of the corridor.

“Dad,” he began, “Isn’t the money I’m taking all to pursue Sun Tingting? Her dad works in the Finance Bureau. If I’m not generous with my money, she won’t even give me a second glance.”

Zhou Jianguo looked up at him: “Have all the boxes been opened? Give me a number, how much have you taken in total during this period?”

Zhou Cheng lowered his head: “I don’t remember.”

“You bastard!”

Zhou Jianguo slammed his hand on the coffee table, sending the ashtray flying high into the air.

Liu Xiumei quickly tried to smooth things over: “Sun Tingting is just so-so, if you can’t win her over, so be it.”

She beckoned to Zhou Cheng: “Xiao Cheng, come here.”

Zhou Cheng walked over and sat down on the sofa.

Liu Xiumei said, “I’ve made an appointment with Secretary Li’s wife for dinner tomorrow. Her daughter graduated from No. 1 Middle School, ranked first in her grade, and is even prettier than Sun Tingting. You’ll come with me tomorrow; be observant. If things don’t work out there, then work hard on this side.”

Zhou Cheng nodded.

Zhou Jianguo sneered: “Whether it’s Sun Tingting or Secretary Li’s daughter, those girls can get into Ninghai University on their own. But you, I have to swallow my pride and beg for help.”

Zhou Cheng retorted, “Dad, it doesn’t matter whether I go to university or not, isn’t it all for you?”

Zhou Jianguo stood up abruptly.

“For me?”

He strode over to the coffee table, took a brown paper envelope from his briefcase, and slammed it onto the coffee table.

“Then you shouldn’t go either!”

Zhou Cheng was stunned.

“They turned it down anyway, and the money was returned!” Zhou Jianguo pointed at the envelope. “You shouldn’t go out to eat with your mother either. What are you doing chasing after girls? They’re all from prestigious universities, and you’re nothing. How dare you even try to pursue them!”

He turned around, strode into the study, and slammed the door shut.

Liu Xiumei opened her mouth, looked at the envelope, then at her son, unsure of what to say.

In the study, Zhou Jianguo sat in a chair and lit a cigarette.

Amidst the swirling smoke, he inhaled slowly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

After a long while, he picked up the phone on the table and dialed a number.

“Hello? This is Zhou Jianguo…”