Even though the heating in the family building wasn’t very good, Zhao ii was still sweating under the quilt. She threw off the covers and, in the moonlight outside the window, looked at the blinking notification light on the desk, which was left on after she’d forgotten to turn off the computer. On a whim, she got up and edited a text ssage to send.
Shi Yang got ho to find his mom curled up on the sofa watching TV. Hearing the door, she turned her head and saw it was him, hurrying up to greet him, "You’re back?"
Shi Yang glanced at the clock on the wall, "He isn’t ho yet?"
Shi Yang’s mother nodded, "He said he had a social engagent."
Shi Yang made a sound of acknowledgnt and was about to head to the bedroom to change clothes when his mom called him back, "Wait a minute."
Shi Yang stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his mom.
Shi Yang’s mother picked up a bank card from the coffee table and handed it to him, "Your dad asked to give this to you, said it’s still a bit short, but he’ll find a way."
Shi Yang looked down at it, noting the pinyin letters engraved in the bottom right corner, spelling his na.
Shi Yang raised an eyebrow.
Shi Yang’s mom shoved the card into his hand, "Yangyang, your dad cares about you."
Shi Yang let out a noncommittal hum, taking the card, "I’ll pay him back."
After saying this, he headed for the bedroom, his mother following, nagging, "Yangyang, you can’t always be like this. He is your father."
Shi Yang’s response was the slam of the bedroom door.
Leaning against the chair, Shi Yang held the bank card between his fingers, his emotions suddenly becoming complicated.
He was never an emotional person, too rational, too self-centered, always making decisions independently. Once he committed to sothing, no one could change his mind. Ever since he was a child, the resentnt towards his dad, even if he believed it had faded with ti, left traces that perhaps softened but never completely vanished.
He longed for independence, to control his own life, yet he repeatedly had to seek his father’s protection.
A deep sense of frustration washed over Shi Yang, conflicted and resistant, yet forced to compromise. These thoughts flared up wildly, leaving him with a subtle emotional turmoil.
Shi Yang adjusted his chair, sitting properly in front of the desk, rhythmically tapping the bank card on the surface.
The website developnt project had basically broken into the market, the hardest part was over. Now it was ti to reap the rewards. If things continued as they were, in two years at most, he could not only repay all the money he took from his father but also easily buy a house.
But the thing with websites is, although they’re hot at the mont, what he’s doing is too localized. In three or four years, it will be completely outdated, and by then, the franchise resources in Li Shuren’s hands would be long distributed. Even if he wanted to squeeze in, he’d only get scraps.
Shi Yang always trusted his instincts. He threw himself fully into anything he was interested in, so when he realized the opportunity Li Shuren offered was indeed a chance, he was eager to seize it.
What he now wanted most was true independence, not just in life and finances but also psychologically. Therefore, he urgently wanted to succeed quickly.
Looking at the bank card in his hand, he wondered when he could officially have his own savings, which would mark true independence. In this world, to truly rely on oneself, nothing but money could achieve that.
Shi Yang knew these thoughts were sowhat extre and acknowledged his current restlessness wasn’t rational, but there was no help for it. Holding the bank card felt like gripping a burning hot coal, unable to calm down.
The phone in his pocket suddenly buzzed, the vibration pressing against his thigh muscle interrupted his chaotic thoughts.
Shi Yang took out his phone to see a text ssage, sent by Da Bao.
Unlocking the screen, he read the ssage, which contained only eight neat Song-style characters. He stared at them for a long ti, rereading the characters countless tis, then silently laughed. All his inner entanglents and worries vanished, previous hesitations quickly crumbled, and his goals began to beco clear again.
To make money, he had to seize this opportunity, no matter what price needed to be paid beforehand, as long as the final goal was clear, it was enough.
Shi Yang stared at the phone screen, a handso arc forming at the corners of his mouth. He must make money, and he absolutely had to, because there was sothing he longed to protect. Or even for this goal alone, it was worth fighting for desperately.
Shi Yang read the text ssage again, thinking of sothing, then chuckled and muttered to himself, "Seems like that’s not right?"
Zhao ii, in a flash of impulsivity, regretted the text the mont she sent it. She rolled around on the bed, wishing she could crawl into the phone to swallow those words herself.
"Ahhh!! So embarrassing!!!"
She stared at the screen showing the ssage sent successfully, on the verge of tears.
On the pale green phone screen, eight Song-style characters were lined up neatly.
Bro, that was my first kiss!!!
On a cold winter night, the milky white moonlight added a gentle feeling to the hazy atmosphere.
Qu Chaozong stood in place, watching Shi Yang’s car disappear around the street corner before turning to face Zhang Xin, who was staring intently at him.
He lifted a corner of his mouth, smiling rather mischievously, "Do you really like that much?"
Zhang Xin thought for a mont, then nodded earnestly, "Yes."
Qu Chaozong sighed deeply, glancing at Zhang Xin’s thin clothing. The wind blew, making the hem of her clothes flutter lightly like a puff of black smoke. Beneath the smoke were two slender straight legs. He gave a slight tilt of his chin, "Let’s go."
After speaking, Qu Chaozong turned towards the roadside, hailing a taxi, opened the front passenger door, and got in. Without looking back, he had just settled when he heard the back door open and close again.
Qu Chaozong gave the driver an address, then leaned back into his seat without speaking.
Zhang Xin rested against the car seat, only seeing a small tuft of Qu Chaozong’s hair over the seatback. In the reflection of the roadside lights, it glead faintly, indicating a sowhat stiff hair texture.
People with stiff hair are also strong-willed.
Zhang Xin suddenly recalled this saying, then felt a stir within. She sat up straight and, without much thought, reached out along the curve of the car seat and clasped Qu Chaozong’s ear, pressing gently with her fingertips.
Hmm, the ear bone is hard too, indeed a stubborn temper.
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