Chapter 7: The True White Moonlight

The next morning, dawn spread across the sky.

Jiang Qin slipped out of the house, hopped on his bike, and roamed the city streets before heading to Jizhou Zoo.

It was Sunday and summer vacation—a double whammy. The zoo's entrance was a sea of people, more crowded than a temple fair.

An hour later, Jiang Qin squeezed his way out, nearly losing a shoe in the crush.

Once outside, he squatted by the entrance, chugged a big gulp of water, then fished out his Nokia and called Guo Zihang, telling him to come over.

Guo Zihang lived nearby. After getting Jiang Qin's call, he pedaled over in a flash, huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat but in high spirits.

These days, he lived for Jiang Qin's summons, always feeling like the next call might mean more cash. But when he found Jiang Qin, he froze on the spot.

There was Jiang Qin, squatting on the ground, holding two plucked chickens—one in each hand.

"Jiang Bro, what're you up to?"

Jiang Qin jiggled the chickens. "Bought these for ten bucks. Take one—get your mom to stew it for you."

Guo Zihang glanced at the zoo's sign, confused but awestruck. "You brought your own animals to the zoo?"

"Nah, I bought 'em here. These are for feeding the tigers. Market price is eleven yuan each, but since you're buying their chickens to feed their tigers, they knock it down to half price."

"So… why didn't you feed the tigers?"

Jiang Qin's eyes sharpened. "I bought these fair and square at half price—why the hell would I feed their tigers?"

Guo Zihang opened his mouth, hesitated for a beat, then said, "You're fleecing the zoo, huh?"

"Cut the chatter. Want it or not?"

"Want! I love chicken!"

Guo Zihang took the chicken Jiang Qin handed him, gripping its neck tight. After a glance, his expression turned complicated.

He could almost picture the zoo's tigers and staff reconciling accounts, baffled when the numbers didn't add up.

The tiger: "I didn't eat it—don't pin this on me!"

The staff: "Quit yapping, you ate it."

The tiger: "You stole my chicken and now you're blaming me? I didn't eat it!"

The staff: "If you didn't eat it, did a dog?"

"Jiang Bro, why'd you come to the zoo to buy chickens?"

"I'm planning to bulk-buy these half-price chickens, sneak 'em out, and sell 'em on the market for ten bucks a pop. Flip 'em, and I double my money."

"Then why'd you only buy two?"

"I scoped it out—the security guard at the gate looks pretty tough. I don't think I can take him, so I called you to be my vanguard, test his fighting skills."

"No way, Jiang Bro! I'm the biggest coward—forget fighting, I stutter when I curse!"

"Useless thing, only good for eating!"

Jiang Qin stuffed his chicken into a plastic bag and took another swig of mineral water.

Speculating and reselling could make money fast, sure, but he couldn't keep doing it. He didn't want trouble—just wanted to earn his cash standing tall. Besides, these small-time hustles were miles from his reborn goal.

Jiang Qin stood up, handed his chicken to Guo Zihang too, asking him to take it home, then biked off to his next stop: Jizhou City Library.

He was racking his brain over that first pot of gold, but every idea hit a dead end.

Damn it, missing a system really made every step a slog.

Even without a clear plan, he wasn't about to squat at home. He'd learned in his past life: once you get lazy, it snowballs. So he decided to hit the library, grab some books, and see if there was a golden house in there—maybe spark some inspiration.

How to Become a Charismatic Man Rich Women Love

Effective Opening Lines After Meeting a Rich Woman

Fifteen Gentlemanly Details to Win Over a Rich Woman

The Glamorous Transformation of the Third-Generation Tang Monk

Success Stories of Hooking Up with Rich Women

Jiang Qin picked a few books from the humanities section, ready to dive in.

Honestly, given his current situation, he figured the only shortcut to that first pot of gold was latching onto a rich sugar mama. A young, fit guy like him—making money with muscle wasn't shameful.

Jiang Qin carried his stack of books to the reading area, but before he could sit, his gaze was drawn to the southeast corner.

There sat a girl in a cinched-waist long dress. The small stretch of arm resting on the table was fairer than snow, her thick lashes framing eyes as lively as water. Her lips were rosy and full, her sleek hair cascading over her shoulders, shimmering like pearls in the sunlight.

The girl was engrossed in a thick book, flipping pages with focus, her gaze flickering, calm and well-behaved.

Jiang Qin froze, a related memory clicking into place.

Feng Nanshu—Class 1's academic goddess from senior year, the silent, untouchable flower of Chengnan High, the school's true white moonlight.

Rumor had it she was chauffeured to and from school in a winged sedan, complete with a driver and bodyguard. Her family background was a mystery.

Some said her dad was a tycoon in international trade, others claimed she was a princess exiled from Beijing's elite circles, and a few whispered she was an illegitimate daughter kept in the shadows. Theories abounded, but none held much weight.

Still, Feng Nanshu had that undeniable heiress vibe—aloof, friendless, never speaking to anyone outside of class answers.

Her icy demeanor, paired with the hulking bodyguard's intimidation, meant that despite countless admirers, no one dared confess to her.

Chu Siqi was already the youth for many, but next to Feng Nanshu, she fell short.

In college, Jiang Qin had met plenty of girls who could rival Chu Siqi, but Feng Nanshu remained the one who still dazzled him in memory.

Mr. Lu Xun wasn't kidding—there really were beauties in books.

But did Lu Xun actually say that?

Jiang Qin thought it over, shrugged—didn't matter. Famous quotes with no clear author were all Lu Xun's anyway.

Just then, Feng Nanshu seemed to sense someone watching her. She raised a brow, her gaze sweeping over coolly.

The moment their eyes met, her lashes fluttered faintly, then she quickly refocused on her book.

Cold as ice, no doubt.

Jiang Qin gave a fair assessment, then stepped over and sat at the table across from her.

Reading was dull work. When he couldn't focus, glancing up at a beauty wasn't a bad break. Books were for making money, beauties were for reading books—it all tied back to tools, not straying from his money-first creed.

Jiang Qin pulled out a book and set it in front of him, his eyes casually drifting to the title in Feng Nanshu's hands:

Peggy Sue, the Magic-Eye Girl

Huh?

A girl with such a lofty aura shouldn't be reading something artsy like Kafka on the Shore, oozing literary vibes?

Why a childish fantasy adventure novel?

As Jiang Qin zoned out for a second, the book in front of her shifted upward.

Her half-exposed face vanished completely behind it, not even leaving him those striking brows and eyes.

Jiang Qin snapped back, raising an eyebrow.

Not even half a face?

Cold—seriously cold.

Jiang Qin didn't mind. He reached out and flipped open his own book.