Chapter 11

The warm sunlight streamed through the library's massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow on Nancy Foster. Her smooth, long hair and thick eyelashes seemed to shimmer with a faint golden hue.

She sat upright with strict composure—rigidly proper, quietly well-behaved, and meticulously graceful.

Her slender fingers gently pinched the corner of a page as she turned it softly, her bright, expressive eyes filled with purity. After finishing a page, she'd pick up a shrimp chip, take a bite with a crisp crunch, then move on to the next page.

This cycle repeated a few times until the bag of shrimp chips gradually emptied.

It wasn't until Nancy reached for another chip that she realized it was the last one. She looked up at Kane Brook.

"I'm not eating anymore. You finish the rest."

A gleam of satisfaction sparkled in her eyes as she picked up the final chip, popped it into her mouth, and flipped to the next page.

Kane stared at her for a while, realizing that Nancy wasn't joking.

She really had agreed to lend him the money.

But why did it feel so surreal?

No IOU?

Not even a simple question about what the money was for or when he'd pay it back?

Kane, with the soul of a 38-year-old man, thought he'd easily see through the simplicity of a high school student. But he genuinely couldn't figure Nancy Foster out.

Then again, it made sense. In his past life, he'd never dealt with a rich girl before—no wonder he found her puzzling.

Maybe that's just how rich girls are.

At 4:30 p.m. sharp, Nancy suddenly slipped a bookmark into her book, stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and returned the book to the shelf.

She left at the same time every day, clearly bound by strict curfews.

But this time, just before leaving, she paused, turned around, and waved goodbye to Kane.

Maybe she's not so cold after all…

Kane watched her leave, then turned his gaze toward the giant window. Through the glass, he clearly saw the black Bentley parked downstairs.

The driver, wearing white gloves, had already opened the door, standing respectfully. A bodyguard stood nearby, expression stern and vigilant.

Nancy walked out of the library gracefully, quietly slipped into the car, and with the roar of the engine, disappeared into the streets bathed in the last light of dusk.

"Turns out the house of gold and the beauty like jade are the same person."

"…."

"Suddenly feeling a little hungry. I'll head home."

Kane put The Soft Rice Survival Guide back on the shelf, then rode his bike back to Hongrong Garden on North Second Road. On his way in, he bought a basket of soup dumplings at the neighborhood gate.

It was Wednesday—a regular workday.

Mrs. Carmen Yale worked at a government reception office, while Mr. Jonathan Brook was with the Health Bureau. That meant no one was home, so soup dumplings would have to do.

After a lifetime of takeout and instant noodles in his past life, Kane wasn't picky anymore. He didn't have high standards when it came to food.

Besides, this dumpling shop was genuinely good—thin wrappers, juicy fillings. They'd even opened chain stores a decade later.

Kane picked up a dumpling from the plastic bag and took a bite. Steaming hot and richly juicy—still the original recipe, still the familiar taste.

It's just that the weather was too hot, and after two dumplings, he was already sweating.

He tied the plastic bag and decided to finish the rest at home.

By 7 p.m., night had quietly settled in.

Mr. Jonathan Brook came home with two plastic bags, kicked off his shoes, and plopped onto the couch.

His forehead was dripping with sweat, and he was out of breath, urgently calling Kane to get him some water.

"Dad, where'd you go? Why are you so exhausted?"

"Your mom said vegetables at Nan Village Market are cheaper. I rode my bike for forty minutes, bought a ton—all your favorites."

Kane placed the water in front of him. "Isn't it just a few cents cheaper? Not even worth the hassle. Are we really that poor?"

Jonathan Brook took a sip of water, letting out a satisfied "Ah!" before speaking. "This has nothing to do with being poor. You're about to start university, and after that, you'll need to get married. There will be plenty of expenses down the road, so we need to save wherever we can. We can't afford to spend money recklessly anymore!"

Just as his words faded, the door creaked open.

Carmen Yale walked in, carrying a shopping bag from the department store, her face beaming with delight as she hummed a little tune.

Father and son exchanged a glance, unable to hide their amusement.

"What did you buy?" Jonathan asked.

"Sister Xu from my office told me the department store was having a half-off sale on wool coats. I got an amazing deal!"

Jonathan's eyes widened. "A wool coat? How much did you spend?"

With a triumphant smile, Carmen replied, "It was originally 888 yuan, but now it's only 488."

"Dad, is this what you meant by not spending money recklessly?" Kane Brook was stunned.

"You spendthrift woman! It's the peak of summer—why are you buying a wool coat?"

"What do you know? If it weren't the middle of summer, they wouldn't have discounted it!"

Jonathan straightened up, adopting the authoritative tone of the head of the household. "Kane just finished his college entrance exams. When the results come out, we'll have to throw a banquet and pay his tuition. There's plenty to spend money on."

Carmen kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room. "Isn't that exactly what I said? By the way, did you go to the South Village Market like I asked?"

"Of course I did. I did the math—vegetables there are a lot cheaper than the ones at the shop downstairs. We saved over twenty yuan this time."

"So that means we saved 420 yuan today?"

Jonathan frowned, confused. "Where's the other 400 from?"

Carmen held up the shopping bag. "I bought this wool coat for 488 when it originally cost 888. Doesn't that mean we 'saved' another 400?"

"Carmen, I've got to say, your idea of saving money is completely wrong."

"Jonathan Brook, I've been married to you for so many years, and I've barely bought any clothes. And now you're complaining about one wool coat?"

Kane chuckled quietly, finding this long-lost, familiar bickering between his parents oddly heartwarming. His dad was still in his prime—healthy, strong, with no gray hair at fifty-three, and not secretly driving for ride-sharing gigs until he passed out in the car just to save for his son's down payment. His mom was still young, still loved to look good, and could afford to splurge a little at the department store without skimping so much she wouldn't even buy meat.

This, without a doubt, was the happiest thing about his second chance at life.

But his smug grin didn't go unnoticed, and soon both his parents shot him matching glares.