Chapter 0007 Huang Millionaire

Chen Liuge grinned. "I think her proposal is quite good."

"To me, the saying 'greatness hides in plain sight' is nonsense when it comes to you. No place could ever truly hide you." Shen Qingwu spoke earnestly. For someone like Chen Liuge, a mundane life was never in the cards. Even without Qin Ruohan, some other person or crisis would inevitably drag him back into the fray.

Besides, how many people in this world truly wanted Chen Liuge to vanish into obscurity as a nameless speck in the vast universe?

"Hah! A single compliment from you, Qingwu, beats a pound of Moutai's finest aroma." Chen Liuge laughed. Turning to Qin Ruohan, he added flatly, "I've heard your story. You can leave now."

Qin Ruohan tensed again. "You still refuse to help me?"

"Whether I help you or not has nothing to do with kicking you out. Did you think helping meant I'd invite you to dinner?" Chen Liuge rolled his eyes, embodying zero chivalry.

Qin Ruohan gritted her teeth. She'd never met such a clueless, stingy man. What harm would one meal do? Would it bankrupt him?

But needing his help, she swallowed her pride. "If you've decided to help… shouldn't we strategize? Just let me leave like this?"

"They gave you three days. What's the rush?" Chen Liuge retorted. "Live for today—that's my motto. Never do today what can be done tomorrow."

Hearing this absurd logic, Qin Ruohan doubted her choice. Entrusting her life to such an unreliable man felt like tragic folly.

Shen Qingwu chuckled softly. "You should go home. If my brother helps you, not even Bianzhou—let alone all of China—could produce someone capable of taking your life."

Ultimately, Qin Ruohan left the courtyard half-convinced, half-terrified. Chen Liuge, ever the miser, didn't offer to see her out. *Expect a free meal after begging for help? Not on my watch.*

Chen Liuge's penny-pinching, calculative nature practically begged for a lightning strike.

Once Qin Ruohan vanished, Chen Liuge's trademark laziness returned. "Qingwu, where are those 'rare talents' you mentioned? Do they even exist?"

"The phoenix feathers haven't hatched. The unicorn horns no longer exist." Shen Qingwu tugged his sleeve, serene.

"Haha! No wonder all of Beijing knows you're my favorite. In our family, you've always been the best at humoring my bullshit." Chen Liuge roared with laughter.

Shen Qingwu smiled wordlessly. In truth, she'd never once indulged his tall tales. To her, he'd always been the man closest to divinity.

Just then, a scrawny man in grubby clothes shuffled into the courtyard. Bald patches peeked through his disheveled hair. Beady eyes, rodent-like features, and a set of yellowed teeth completed the picture of pure猥琐 (wěisuǒ—creepy) and磕碜 (kēchen—disgusting).

This walking disaster was Huang Millionaire—a name laughably mismatched to his fate. Chen Liuge's neighbor, renting another room in the compound. Despite Chen Liuge's short tenancy, the two hit it off, often swapping tall tales.

Illiterate, penniless, and perpetually hungry, Huang had clawed his way from rural poverty to the city. He'd stolen, begged, swept streets—yet after a decade, remained destitute. Still, he refused to crawl back to the mountains.

*"I've got no face left and can eat any bitterness. As long as I'm breathing, I'll make it!"* he'd say.

"Brother Liu! Little Sister!" Huang beamed, his yellowed teeth on full display. Neither Chen Liuge nor Shen Qingwu flinched. They judged no one—high or low.

"Damn, Brother Liu! Did you see that woman earlier? A real stunner! I've hardly seen anyone that fine in my life!" Huang babbled. "Stared so hard I nearly fell into the ditch outside! Worth it, though!"

He glanced at Shen Qingwu. "Little Sister, I know you're above us common folk. Don't mind my crude talk."

Shen Qingwu smiled faintly. She didn't despise this struggling man. Few could endure his hardships without bitterness.

Chen Liuge finished washing vegetables. "Old Huang, you're all eyes and no action."

"Hah! A guy like me'll never even lick a lady's toes. Gotta let my eyes live the dream!" Huang cackled.

"Dinner?" Chen Liuge—the man who'd deny Qin Ruohan a meal—invited Huang without hesitation.

"Hell yes!" Huang produced half a pound of cheap baijiu. "My hoarded 'Burning Blade'! Let's drink!"

The meal was meager—greens, some meat, Huang's moldy homemade tofu. They savored every drop of the foul liquor. Shen Qingwu retired early, leaving the men under moonlight.

"Brother Liu… you and Little Sister… got big stories," Huang slurred after two shots.

"Oh?"

"Fancy folks look down on me. Street sweepers too. But you two don't." Huang stated crudely but truthfully.

"Why stay here?" Chen Liuge asked. "Country life's simpler."

Huang sipped his firewater. "Here I can struggle. Feel alive. Go back? No more fight. Gotta die in the city—it's my legacy. Stay, my kids might escape the dirt. Leave, my bloodline stays poor mountain rats forever."

He grinned. "Don't need riches. Just a wife—not even pretty. Someone to cherish."

Chen Liuge listened, respecting Huang more than most.

Huang belched. "Brother Liu, if you ever need me… this 100-pound sack of bones is yours."

"Deal." Chen Liuge joked, "How 'bout this: I'll take you, you bring bowls. You cry, I beg. We'll run a tourist trap!"

Huang blinked, then howled with laughter.

Drunk on three taels of liquor, Huang stumbled to bed. After tidying up, Chen Liuge called Qin Ruohan—regardless of the hour.

He asked brief questions: names, factions. No time for her elaborations. Two minutes, click.

Helping Qin Ruohan wasn't about pity. It was Shen Qingwu's words: *"She's like me. A year ago."*