Tao Dongdong did well on her final exams, and Uncle Tao bought her a bicycle as a reward. She complained that it was pink even as she rode around town with Song Erya perched on the back.
"I heard you're skipping a grade next semester and coming to ninth grade with me. How is your brain wired, exactly?"
"Can't help it. I'm a genius," Song Erya sighed in mock distress.
"..." Tao Dongdong really wanted to hit her sometimes.
After all those tutoring classes and one-on-one lessons with famous teachers, if Song Erya still couldn't outperform middle school students, she would truly have no face to show anyone.
Besides, her father had been a professor. Inheriting a bit of his intelligence wasn't asking too much, was it?
Each year, more and more tourists came to Coconut City. Song Erya pestered Song Fang to bring back some things for her while restocking the clothing shop.
Song Fang hadn't been keen on letting her do business outside, but Song Erya said the family couldn't rely solely on her sister—otherwise she'd be exhausted.
Song Fang's heart softened. What could she say after that?
Song Erya then shared her money-making plan with Tao Dongdong. Tao Dongdong found it both novel and exciting, smashed open her piggy bank at home to join in, and even volunteered to be the "driver."
When Song Fang returned with the goods, she brought a large bag of hair accessories, earrings, straw hats, and the like, including some round, full faux pearls. Song Erya asked Aunt Ming to string the pearls together with seashells, giving them a strong sense of design.
The two girls rolled up their sleeves and got to work. They rode all the way to Changlin Road, rented a stall for fifty cents a day, set up a small table, spread out a cloth, and laid out their merchandise.
Tao Dongdong was even bolder than Song Erya. She raised her voice and shouted, calling passersby over to take a look at their goods. The items themselves were popular with girls and not expensive; the priciest were Aunt Ming's handmade crafts.
People came to the seaside to look pretty, so sales picked up quickly. Song Erya priced the pearl-and-shell necklaces and bracelets a little higher, but they were her own designs and unavailable elsewhere. Those with extra money who wanted something novel were still willing to buy.
On that street, food stalls did the best business. Tao Dongdong eyed them enviously, wishing she could instantly turn into a master chef and set up her own stove.
A few days later, Ming Qiuyue appeared with another girl. After looking around, Ming Qiuyue asked Song Erya, "Where's Shen Mingsong? Is it just you here?"
Tao Dongdong coughed loudly, making it clear that she was standing right there. She sized Ming Qiuyue up and asked, "Why are you looking for Shen Mingsong? Who are you?"
Shen Mingsong was still out at sea with Uncle Tao's fleet.
Ming Qiuyue said she was Shen Mingsong's classmate. To support their business, she bought two necklaces and gave one to the girl with her.
The girl looked disdainful and shook her head. "What kind of junk is this? I don't want it. My mom brought me Australian white pearls from overseas."
Tao Dongdong's face fell instantly.
The girl rolled her eyes at Tao Dongdong and tugged Ming Qiuyue's arm. "Let's go, sis. It's so hot here. I want to go home and enjoy the air conditioning."
After they walked away, Tao Dongdong said, "Rich people are so arrogant, always looking down on others—just like my cousin."
In fact, Tao Dongdong's family was quite well-off too. They lived in the only two-story villa on Chaoxi Road, with a color TV and refrigerator at home. She'd heard her cousin's family was even wealthier, having moved to the capital years ago.
The next day, Ming Qiuyue came again. Shen Mingsong still wasn't there, and she looked a little disappointed. She lived on this street, and on the third day she once again "happened" to pass by.
Even Tao Dongdong sensed something was off. At her age, she was starting to grow curious about little romantic rumors. She asked, "Do you think that girl might be Shen Mingsong's girlfriend?"
Song Erya shook her head. "I don't know."
She thought again of Uncle Mingsong's first love.
Just like the year before, Shen Mingsong didn't come back from the sea until the lychees in his yard had ripened. Then he rode out on his tricycle to sell fruit again.
His skin was darker from the sun, his features more defined. Tao Dongdong said he looked like a wild man from the mountains—fiercer the longer you looked at him.
If Song Erya had to describe him, she'd call him a black panther: long limbs, a powerful yet sleek build, strength and wildness coexisting. Under the sunlight, his eyes always looked lazy, yet never lacking in aggression.
Shen Mingsong parked his tricycle beside their stall and told them to watch it for him—he had something to discuss with Lin Hai.
"Jinda" was an entire building of entertainment venues. The first floor was an arcade, the third floor karaoke. As soon as you went up, deafening music and cheers hit you. Even during the day, crowds gathered there to drink and sing.
Lin Hai liked staying on the third floor. At the end of the corridor was his office. As Shen Mingsong walked toward it, the distant music mixed with the sound of Lin Hai smashing a bottle.
"Do you even know what you're doing? What kind of person Zhou Qiang is—money over life—and you're working with him?"
The office had poor soundproofing. Through the door came Fang Wenbin's cold laugh. "If you don't live for money, what do you live for? You're doing well now, Lin Hai—wife, kids, a warm bed. Of course life's easy for you. I'm trash."
"Don't talk to me about wives. Yours ran off because you gambled—lost everything, even stole from me. If you hadn't taken a knife for me back then, I'd have killed you myself today."
"That's my business. You don't need to meddle."
Lin Hai flipped the coffee table, the crash echoing loudly. "Zhou Qiang is doing illegal stuff. You know that. His money—can you take it? Walk out that door today and stay as far away as possible from me forever."
Fang Wenbin's voice softened. "Brother, I've wronged you. But I was truly desperate back then. I've quit gambling now. I just want to earn money to pay you back, then marry again and have a few sons."
Lin Hai could no longer persuade him. He told him to get lost. Fang Wenbin opened the door and saw Shen Mingsong, his gaze cold, baring his teeth in a grin. "Enjoy the show?"
Shen Mingsong met his stare calmly, expressionless, as if none of it interested him.
Lin Hai called Shen Mingsong inside. Fang Wenbin walked away without looking back.
The office was a mess. The sofa had been kicked askew. Shen Mingsong didn't sit; he stood by the desk listening.
"You heard most of it just now. He's determined to work with Zhou Qiang."
Shen Mingsong merely nodded.
Lin Hai changed the subject, pulled a brand-new motorcycle key from the drawer, and tossed it to him. "Take it. The bike's downstairs."
"Thanks, brother," Shen Mingsong said with a smile.
Lin Hai was loyal to the core. Once he called you a brother, he treated you like family. He pulled Shen Mingsong into reminiscing about his youth with Fang Wenbin and even offered him a cigarette.
Shen Mingsong took it but didn't light it.
Lin Hai remembered something else. "You're still playing the stock market? That stuff isn't something to mess with lightly. So many people jump every year. You youngsters all like to gamble."
Shen Mingsong had watched his father trade stocks from a young age. Two years earlier, he'd entered the market himself. Back then it was small-scale, but after accumulating experience, he'd made some money—some invested in Jinda, some still in stocks.
"If I lose, I lose," Shen Mingsong said.
Lin Hai thought about it. Youthful recklessness had its pros and cons—let fate decide.
In recent years, the stock market had surged. Ordinary people flooded in. Some rode the wave to fortune; others went bankrupt and stood on rooftops. Every era had its rise and fall.
For small investors, even losses wouldn't drive them to ruin.
~
"When is Shen Mingsong coming back?" Tao Dongdong fanned herself, sneaking glances to the side as she muttered.
Ming Qiuyue was there again today. Seeing Shen Mingsong's tricycle, she was both surprised and delighted. Even without seeing him, she simply sat on the vehicle to wait, unfazed by the heat.
The girl from before was also there, constantly complaining about the heat, mosquitoes, the stench of the street, and how people haggled endlessly over a few yuan.
Yet she refused to leave.
Sweating, Song Erya told Tao Dongdong to stop staring. When customers came to buy lychees, she weighed them and took payment with practiced ease. Ming Qiuyue helped open plastic bags and pack the fruit.
Her delicate hand was scratched by a sharp twig, leaving a red mark.
The accompanying girl noticed and said, "Qiuyue, I told you to go home. You shouldn't be doing this kind of work."
Ming Qiuyue again urged her to leave.
"I'm not leaving. I want to see what that man looks like."
Tao Dongdong whispered loudly to Song Erya, "What's she showing off in front of us for?"
"Who are you talking about?" the girl snapped.
"Whoever answers," Tao Dongdong shot back.
"You! What right do you have to talk about me!"
The girl was habitually arrogant, her features sharp and mean. She raised her voice. "Qiuyue, these two look so shabby. The man you like must be just as poor and trashy. I heard he's a little thug."
Tao Dongdong was stunned. "Is she talking about us?"
"Yes, you," the girl said.
Song Erya froze.
In any era, the gap between rich and poor was vast. No matter how hard those at the bottom worked, their lives still looked pitiful in the eyes of the wealthy. Her blunt words cut straight to the heart—anyone more sensitive might have felt ashamed of their poverty.
Ming Qiuyue's face darkened. "Ming Zhilian, apologize."
"No. What did I say wrong?" Ming Zhilian retorted. "I'm going to tell Auntie that you like some poor delinquent."
There was even a hint of glee in her tone.
She ran off, leaving a flustered Ming Qiuyue to clean up the mess, apologizing profusely.
Tao Dongdong ignored her, looking down at herself, then at Song Erya. "How are we shabby?"
"I'm really sorry," Ming Qiuyue continued. "My cousin just speaks too directly."
"Mean is mean. Don't make excuses," Tao Dongdong snapped.
Just then, Shen Mingsong returned and frowned. "What happened?"
Tao Dongdong said bluntly, "Your friend said we dress shabbily, that poor people stink, and that you're the same. What kind of friends do you keep?"
"No, no..." Ming Qiuyue panicked. "It wasn't me. I'd never say that. Shen Mingsong, believe me, please?"
She looked at him pleadingly.
He nodded calmly. "I know. You wouldn't say that. Your cousin, though, maybe."
He'd heard worse before. Words like these no longer bothered him.
He lowered his gaze to Song Erya. Her clothes were clean, her cut hair had grown out a bit and was neatly combed. She didn't look well-off, but hardly shabby.
She showed no signs of crying or shame. Good—she was thick-skinned.
Seeing he wasn't angry, Ming Qiuyue relaxed and smiled again. "I've been looking for you for days. I even asked your teachers, but they didn't have your home phone number."
"There's no phone at my place. What do you want with me?"
She took two pristine tickets from her small bag. "My dad got tickets to the Star Theater. Want to see a musical with me the day after tomorrow?"
He didn't take them. "No. I wouldn't understand it."
She had expected that reaction. After hesitating and glancing at the two obvious onlookers beside them, she asked him to step aside and talk somewhere else.
***
IMPORTANT
It's a Human Translated Web Novel.
Free Chapter - Upto 20
Paid Chapter - 21 - End [One Time 3$]
OR
All Shop CN & Exclusive CN Access
[Patreon Link On Bio~]