Chapter 2: Send You 10,000 to Show Some Sincerity?

Shi Zhen had trained at the milk tea shop for three days and had already memorized all the recipes.

The store she worked at wasn’t a national chain brand, but an old-established milk tea shop in Xiaoshan.

The store manager, Chen Hong, was a woman in her forties and the owner of the milk tea shop.

Besides Shi Zhen, there were two other employees: one working the front counter and one as the tea barista.

The front counter girl, Xiao Yang, like her, was a recent graduate. Due to the poor economy, she was just taking the job as a temporary transition.

The milk tea barista looked about thirty, had large wavy curls, and her freshly manicured nails sparkled under the light.

To be honest, Shi Zhen had ordered from this shop quite a few times before, but seeing the unhygienic environment and the gunk trapped under the barista’s nails, she couldn’t help but ask:

“Sister Zhang, I saw in the employee handbook that milk tea baristas aren’t allowed to have manicures. Isn’t this…”

Shi Zhen cautiously pointed to Zhang Meiren’s hand and said, “This seems to be against the rules, right?”

Zhang Meiren rolled her eyes at her, letting out a scornful hum from her throat. “What do you know? You’ve barely been here a few days and you’re already trying to boss around the old staff?”

As she stirred the freshly iced milk tea, she added, “Chen-jie is my sister-in-law. She hasn’t said anything, so what are you making a fuss about?”

Shi Zhen awkwardly replied, “Oh, sorry.”

But in her heart, she couldn’t help but complain: So messed up. It’s just a milk tea shop, and they’re already playing politics!

Having just joined the workforce, Shi Zhen was confused. Are all adults like this? So scary. She wanted to go home. Maybe she should just be a pampered homebody again. Sob sob.

“Alright, it’s time. You can head home now. Be here by 8 a.m. tomorrow for your official first day,” Zhang Meiren said.

Shi Zhen nodded and forced a smile. “Okay, Sister Zhang.”

Walking out of the store, Shi Zhen felt like even the air outside was much fresher than inside.

So how do you survive a month with just a hundred yuan? Shi Zhen figured it like this: the cheapest local instant noodles cost 19.2 yuan for a box of twenty-four packs—basically enough for a month.

Bus fare was two yuan a day, sixty for the month, and that left her with twenty yuan for emergencies.

Perfect!

Back home, Shi Zhen finally pulled out the phone she’d been longing to use.

She didn’t dare use it at work—worried the manager would catch her and get a bad impression.

She opened Little Green Book, planning to record her survival for the day.

Unexpectedly, as soon as she opened the app, a new comment notification popped up.

Shi Zhen was shocked and delighted. Traffic had never favored her; her post had only a few hundred views in three days, let alone comments.

Even though Shi Zhen didn’t post for attention, having no one even glance at her story still felt kind of sad.

She tapped the green chat bubble icon and saw a message filled with local charm and a warm greeting.

Brother Xie: [Hey girl, where in Northeast are you from?]

Shi Zhen went silent. She checked Brother Xie’s IP—it showed Shulin.

Clicking into his profile, she saw nothing but age and IP. Not even a profile picture—it was a randomly generated default one from a new account.

He must be a warmhearted Northeast big brother living away from home.

Shi Zhen thought: Northeasterners really are passionate. Even a poor, down-and-out girl like her gets a bit of care.

Wanting to return the warmth of home to this big brother, Shi Zhen replied:

Zhenzhen: [Big brother, I’m from Xiaoshan.]

It was exactly 3 p.m. when Xie Qian finished his meeting.

Feeling exhausted after returning to the office, he pulled out his phone, thinking of finding something to relax.

The first thing he saw was a glaringly green icon.

It was the app he downloaded last night just to comment on a post.

Xie Qian opened it and stared, questioning his brain function from the previous night.

Sure enough, sleep-deprived people really do weird things. If it were now, even if Yueyue sent him a link, he’d barely glance at it, let alone waste time downloading and commenting.

After refreshing the app a few times, a mess of colorful content popped up.

Xie Qian frowned and was about to quit and delete the app when a pop-up window appeared, and his finger accidentally tapped into it.

Zhenzhen: [Big brother, I’m from Xiaoshan.]

Xie Qian couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He instantly imagined a little girl in a flowery cotton jacket and bright red hat, with big eyes, long lashes, and sweet dimples when she smiled.

Warm, soft light would surround her, but the moment you spoke to her, she’d respond in a thick northeastern accent.

Xie Qian laughed out loud. His mood instantly lifted.

Suddenly interested, he opened the private chat page.

Brother Xie: [Hey girl, Xiaoshan’s pretty close to Pingshan, right? I lived in Pingshan for a while when I was a kid.]

Seeing this almost instant reply, Shi Zhen put down her water cup and fell into deep thought.

Xiaoshan and Pingshan really weren’t far—only about two hours by car. But economically, the difference was huge.

Xiaoshan was basically a fifth-tier city, while Pingshan had already become a second-tier one.

Zhenzhen: [Big brother, your memory’s great! Xiaoshan is just west of Pingshan—two hours away.]

Brother Xie: [Has it snowed a lot up in the northeast lately?]

Shi Zhen glanced out the window. The bright sun was melting the snow, but the frost remained deep and didn’t dim the view.

She turned on her camera and adjusted the angle, taking a few pictures.

The photos showed the view outside her window. Just outside her bedroom was an old tree, bare in winter and covered in frost.

She picked the best two and sent them to Xie Qian.

Zhenzhen: [We had a heavy blizzard a few days ago. The tree branches almost snapped from the weight.]

Xie Qian chuckled and zoomed in on the photos, carefully examining them.

Sunlight always gives off a warm illusion, and the damp tree bark is deceiving too.

It makes you think it’s nice and warm outside, but the moment you step out and the cold slaps your nose, you’ll be cursing and rushing back inside for a coat.

At that moment, his assistant came in with some documents. As soon as he opened the door, he saw the normally expressionless CEO giggling at his phone.

Wei Lin froze, hands in the air, unsure whether to go in or retreat.

Breaking news! Huge scoop! The eternally stone-faced young master Xie might be in love!

Wei Lin tried to suppress the smile creeping across his face and the gossip in his eyes. He knocked on the door. “President Xie, I have a few documents for you to sign.”

Xie Qian wiped the smile off his face, took the documents, and signed them in his bold, flowing script after reviewing them carefully.

During the pause, Wei Lin tried to sneak a glance at the screen by tilting his neck, but the screen had already gone black—nothing to see.

After signing, Xie Qian knocked on the desk and cast a cold glare at Wei Lin. “What are you looking at?”

Wei Lin’s heart jumped. He quickly scooped up the documents and chuckled nervously. “President Xie, you…”

“Hm?” Xie Qian’s low, magnetic voice rumbled from his throat.

Wei Lin panicked and changed his tone. “N-no, nothing! I didn’t see anything! President Xie, don’t you know me by now? I suffer from spontaneous deafness and sudden blindness!”

He finished, nodding and bowing as he scrambled away.

You really couldn’t blame Wei Lin for being scared—Xie Qian’s appearance just wasn’t friendly.

Well over six feet tall, packed with solid muscle, his fists could be as big as two girls’ heads. A standard shirt couldn’t even handle his build.

Fortunately, all of President Xie’s clothes were custom-made. Otherwise, if he wore the standard dress shirts available on the market…

Tsk, tsk. No matter how you looked at it, it just wouldn’t seem proper.

Still, Xie Qian’s appearance was undeniably striking. A pair of phoenix eyes that, with the slightest upward tilt, could steal someone’s soul. His long eyelashes fluttered once, and it made people’s hearts itch.

He had perfectly inherited Lan Yudie’s flawless skin and high nose bridge. At a glance, one might mistake him for some pampered young master from a wealthy family.

But in the very next second, the aura of hostility surrounding President Xie could make people instinctively back away.

Wei Lin always felt that the reason President Xie didn’t have a girlfriend to this day was because he constantly wore that stern expression. No matter how refined his features were, they couldn’t override the intimidating presence he naturally exuded.

On top of that, his accent—just opening his mouth would scare away a bunch of pretty girls.

But did Xie Qian care?

He didn’t care in the slightest. Lan Zezhong had taught him from a young age that a man should be like a wolf, not a stray dog.

A wolf always keeps its tail low, waiting for the right moment to strike with a deadly blow. But no matter how fierce a dog is, there will always be a time when its tail wags happily in the air.

Xie Qian understood this deeply. He never acted cute to gain others’ affection.

He reopened his phone. The cursor in the chat box blinked steadily.

During that time, Shizhen had sent a few more messages. They were pictures of a snowy scene outdoors.

She had just gone out for a walk and, on a whim, took a few photos and sent them to Brother Xie.

Zhenzhen: [Bro, look how heavy the snow is. It almost never snows in Shulin. You probably haven’t seen snow from your hometown in ages, right?]

Hometown—that was a word that felt very distant to Xie Qian. Though his father was from Shulin, he never considered it his home.

Lan Zezhong had been gone for over ten years, and with his passing, the Lan family fell apart too. There was no longer any reason for Xie Qian to return to the Northeast.

A sense of belonging was something comforting—but Xie Qian didn’t have that. That’s why he often felt like a drifting duckweed.

He floated on a sea that didn’t belong to him—never sinking, but unable to reach the shore either.

Xie Qian exited the chat window and went back to look at Shizhen’s post.

There were many poor people in the world. He couldn’t help them all, nor did he have the time or interest to do so.

But today, a nameless fire rose in Xie Qian’s heart.

Through Shizhen, he saw that city, that land, and those days when people had to trade food stamps for rice.

His long, slender fingers tapped against the phone screen and typed out a long message.

Brother Xie: [Sis, I haven’t gone back in over ten years. How about this—you take a few photos for me each day, and I’ll give you 1,000 yuan per photo. Sound good?]

At that moment, Shizhen was on her way home, holding a bag of hot soy milk in one hand and an unwrapped popsicle in the other.

While walking, she had passed by a supermarket and couldn’t resist spending 4.5 yuan again.

As she walked and looked at her phone, the moment she saw Xie Qian’s message, she was startled. Her hand trembled, and—splat—the popsicle fell to the ground.

An elderly man walking by on unsteady legs chuckled and pointed at the fallen treat. “Aiyo, little girl, your ice cream dropped. Young as you are, how come your hands are already this shaky?”

Shizhen’s face turned beet red instantly. The chocolate flavor was still lingering in her mouth as she looked down at the fallen popsicle, wishing she could disappear into a hole.

Trembling hands were one thing, losing the popsicle was another. But did the old man really have to point it out? Now everyone around had turned to look!

Forcing a smile, she was about to make her escape when an auntie pointed at her face and said, “Hey pretty girl, what’s that on the corner of your mouth? Did your ice cream smear you?”

Shizhen froze completely. She cautiously licked the corner of her mouth with her tongue.

Sweet.

Wuwuwu… say no more. At this point, running away was Shizhen’s destiny.

She bolted home and slammed the door shut, her heart still pounding wildly.

She took out her phone and carefully read Brother Xie’s message again.

A thousand yuan per photo. A few photos a day—that meant she could earn several thousand yuan a day.

And “a few” was such a vague term. Three photos, nine photos—they all counted as “a few.” If she took nine, that’d be 9,000!

Shizhen felt like she had just won the lottery, but her cautious nature made her wonder if this Brother Xie was a scammer.

Meanwhile, Xie Qian waited and waited, watching the “typing…” message flicker above the chat box. He started to ponder deeply.

Was the offer too low?

Brother Xie: [Sis, what’s wrong? Is 1,000 too little? I’m not being stingy—how about 10,000 per photo instead?]

Shizhen’s eyes widened at the new message, her heart jumped, and her hand trembled again. Splash—the soy milk hit the floor.

Zhenzhen: [Bro, I only have 100 yuan left. Could you please not scam me? Do I really look like someone that gullible?]

Xie Qian: …

Brother Xie: [Sis, I’m not scamming you. What would it take for you to believe I’m not?]

Shizhen never believed she could get this kind of dumb luck. But what if?

What if she really had run into some rich, foolish big brother?

She didn’t believe she was lucky, but she did believe in the diversity of humankind!

A moment later, Brother Xie sent another message.

Brother Xie: [How about I transfer you 10,000 first to show my sincerity?]