Volume One: High School Days Chapter Nine: Night Market Commotion, Welcoming Big Brother Zhao Bin

The five of them arrived at the bustling night market, their eyes drawn hungrily to every stall, but none more so than Liu Meng. It wasn’t just grilled durian she craved—she wanted to taste everything. Li Dong, eager to win Tao Nan’s favor, had scrimped and saved for a week to gather one hundred yuan. He declared loudly, “Order whatever you like, it’s my treat!”

Before Tao Nan could reply, Liu Meng exclaimed, “Really? Then let me thank you in advance!” Hearing this, Li Dong retorted, “I meant Tao Nan, not you. With your appetite, I could never afford to feed you!” Liu Meng pouted, “And here I was, getting all happy for nothing.”

At that moment, Liu Sheng, wanting to put Li Dong in his place, casually said, “Don’t worry, I can afford it. You can have the whole street if you like.” This gesture instantly won Liu Meng’s favor. She smiled, “Thank you. No one’s ever been so nice to me before.”

And she didn’t hold back—she tried everything she fancied, while Liu Sheng picked up every tab. Liu Sheng’s true intention, however, was to get closer to Tao Nan, but she kept her distance, sticking to Li Dong instead.

Watching this, Liu Sheng muttered to Ren Xiadong, “If I beat him up now, do you think I’d have to go home and reflect on my actions for seven days?” “Hell, I’ve never liked the guy. Go teach him a lesson, let him know what’s—” Before Ren Xiadong could finish, Liu Meng’s voice rang out nearby: “You pervert! How dare you touch my ass!”

The four hurried over to her side. A small-time thug, looking every bit the part, sneered, “I touch whoever I want. You should feel honored I even bothered with you.” Spotting Liu Sheng and the others with her, he whistled, summoning seven more punks dressed just like him.

The lead thug glanced at his crew and spat, “Damn it! This girl’s mine tonight. Take care of the rest, and get me a room while you’re at it! I’m about to show her a real good time!” At his words, Li Dong grabbed Tao Nan’s hand and ran. Liu Meng’s bravado faltered, but she still said, “You two go, don’t get dragged into this because of me.”

But Liu Sheng stood firm. “Brotherhood comes first. Even if they put me in the hospital tonight, I won’t let them take you.” Ren Xiadong added, “What kind of men would we be if we ran? Sure, you act like a guy, but you’re still a girl.”

Tears welled in Liu Meng’s eyes. “Th-thank you, both of you,” she stammered. “No need for such words between friends,” said Liu Sheng, and with that, he and Ren Xiadong charged into the pack of eight thugs.

After the brawl, Liu Sheng’s arm was bleeding and covered in bruises, and Ren Xiadong clutched his nose, blood trickling down. “How dare you mess up my handsome face,” he grumbled. The eight punks lay sprawled on the ground, groaning.

“I thought tonight would be a real bloodbath, but they went down so easily. Pathetic,” Liu Sheng said, spitting on the ground. Just then, Tao Nan and Li Dong returned. “I just couldn’t leave you guys behind,” Tao Nan said, then, seeing the defeated thugs, Li Dong remarked, “Seems like I worried for nothing.”

“None of you are going anywhere—my big brother’s coming!” the lead thug barked, pulling out his phone to make a call. After hanging up, he struggled to his feet. “You’re all dead! My big brother’s on his way to finish you!”

Ren Xiadong muttered, “Maybe we should go, just in case things get serious.” Liu Sheng nodded, “You’re right, let’s go.”

But before they could leave, six men in their thirties strode over, their leader shouting, “Who dares mess with my people on my turf?” It was none other than the six debt collectors who’d gone to Xiaoya’s house. Seeing Liu Sheng, they kicked the lead thug, cursing, “All you ever do is cause me trouble!” The punk was too scared to speak, realizing he’d picked the wrong fight.

The boss came over, saying, “Well, well, fate keeps throwing us together, doesn’t it? Let’s just leave it at that tonight. Give me your contact, and if you ever need anything around here, just call me—no need to get your hands dirty. A guy like you shouldn’t get roughed up.” After exchanging numbers, Liu Sheng learned the man’s name: Zhao Bin, a notorious figure in the neighborhood.

“Can we go now?” Liu Sheng asked. Zhao Bin quickly replied, “Of course, of course.”

Liu Sheng pulled out two thousand yuan. “Tonight’s late-night snack is on me.” Zhao Bin took the cash and turned to his underlings, “Well? Thank Brother Liu!” They chorused their thanks, promising to help Liu Sheng whenever he needed.

On the way back, Liu Meng, sitting on the e-bike, finally caught her breath. She turned to Liu Sheng, “Can I have your number?” He didn’t refuse. After seeing her home and offering a few comforting words, he returned to his own house.

It was late; his parents and brother were already asleep, so he went straight to bed.

The next day at school, Liu Meng’s loud voice echoed through the hallway. But when she saw Liu Sheng enter, she fell silent and, for once, looked every bit the perfect lady.

Just like the day before, Liu Sheng’s sole focus was to disrupt Li Dong and Tao Nan. Even if he couldn’t be with Tao Nan, he wouldn’t let the two of them get together.

At noon, as soon as the lunch bell chimed, Liu Sheng’s phone rang. Seeing a Beijing number, he knew the contract was ready. He answered.

A melodious female voice greeted him, “Mr. Liu? I’m Director Hao’s secretary, here to arrange your contract signing.”

After hanging up, Liu Sheng walked over to the still-sleeping Ren Xiadong and yanked him awake. “Big business,” he announced.

Startled out of his slumber, Ren Xiadong was dragged from the classroom. “Damn it, can’t you let a guy sleep? You scared the hell out of me!” he protested.

“Desert Warfare is my creation. Today, Senhai Animation from Beijing is buying it for five million. I’m going to sign the contract, and from now on, you’re my personal assistant. Your salary depends on your performance; just back me up when we’re out.”

Still groggy, Ren Xiadong mumbled, “That’s what this is about? Wait, did you say five million? And that you made Desert Warfare? My god!”

Before heading over, Liu Sheng got a new bank card.

They arrived at the reserved room in the Jinluan restaurant. Inside were a man and a woman in business attire—the man from finance, there to confirm the transfer, and the woman to handle the contract.

She began, “Mr. Liu, let’s sign the cooperation agreement with Senhai first. Once you sign, you must abide by the terms. Senhai values you highly; there’s just one requirement: delete all Desert Warfare videos online, and in the future, your works can only go to Senhai. You can’t sell to other companies or websites.”

Liu Sheng found the terms fair—they made sense from a business perspective. He flipped to the last page and signed his name.

The woman, elated, said, “Welcome aboard, Deputy Chief Editor Liu!”

“Deputy Chief Editor?” Liu Sheng and Ren Xiadong echoed in surprise.

She smiled, “Yes, Deputy Chief Editor. Senhai values you greatly, so you’ll have a position with a two-million annual salary.”

Two million a year for doing nothing—both were stunned into silence.

She continued, “Next, we’ll sign the copyright transfer for Desert Warfare. After this, you’ll still be credited as the author, but all rights and future profits belong to Senhai.”

Liu Sheng signed without hesitation. “I don’t need future profits—consider it a gift for Senhai.”

The finance man took a photo of Liu Sheng’s new bank card and sent it to company headquarters. Five minutes later, five million yuan landed in Liu Sheng’s account.

“Let’s celebrate! But since you’re students, no alcohol—just soft drinks,” the man suggested.

Liu Sheng and Ren Xiadong exchanged a glance, then eyed the 1982 Lafite on the table. “No way! We’re drinking. I’ve never tasted red wine, let alone an ‘82 Lafite.”

They clinked glasses and downed the wine in one gulp, leaving the two businesspeople aghast at their extravagance.

In no time, they polished off the entire bottle.

Afterward, the man and woman took their leave. Liu Sheng handed all the cash he had, two thousand yuan, to Ren Xiadong. “Here’s your bonus.”

It was nothing compared to five million, but with the wine and cash, Ren Xiadong was more than satisfied.

As they walked back into the classroom, both began to feel dizzy.

Ren Xiadong groaned, “Damn, this wine really packs a punch.” Liu Sheng was equally woozy, unable to speak.

Class monitor Luo Fen and literature rep Li Dong, seeing the two drunk, quickly buried their heads, praying, “Don’t notice me, don’t notice me.” They still hadn’t forgotten the last time the pair got drunk and started a brawl.

Returning to their seats, Liu Sheng and Ren Xiadong promptly fell asleep, not waking until third period, when the gym teacher stormed into the classroom.

Mr. Han marched over, grabbed Liu Sheng by the collar, and barked, “No more training? The annual Hedong District Athletic Meet is this weekend and you’re skipping practice at such a crucial time?”

Liu Sheng blinked awake, saw Mr. Han, and shot upright. “Is there something you need, Mr. Han?”

“Don’t want to train anymore?” Mr. Han growled.

Liu Sheng steadied himself and asked Tao Nan, “Which period is this?” Tao Nan replied with a silent three.

“Oh? Please don’t be mad, Mr. Han—I’m still groggy from sleep. I’ll go right now.” Though Liu Sheng feared nothing, he was terrified of disappointing Mr. Han—not because the teacher was strict, but because he’d always been kind to him. In three years of middle school, all the other teachers had written Liu Sheng off as a hopeless troublemaker, but Mr. Han saw his character and believed he was a good student. While other teachers judged only by grades, Mr. Han judged by integrity—a rare exception at Seventh Middle School.

During training, Liu Sheng’s limbs felt weak from the wine. He thought, “I’m done for. I haven’t trained properly for ages and the competition’s almost here. I can’t mess up now.”

In that moment, the River Goddess’s voice echoed in his mind, “Activating one hundred percent of your brain capacity uses up many brain cells—it’s exhausting work. But as your brain develops, your physical abilities improve too. You’re just tired from drinking.”

As her voice faded, Liu Sheng realized, “No wonder beating up those punks last night was so easy. That explains it.” He shouted, “Damn! That feels great!”

Everyone on the field—athletes and students alike—turned to stare. Embarrassed, Liu Sheng chuckled and bowed his head to continue warming up.

After third period, Liu Meng scanned the field for Liu Sheng, found him, and jogged over. She handed him a bottle of water. “Hangover’s tough, huh? Drink more water—it might help.”

With that, she dashed away. The other athletes eyed Liu Sheng with jeering grins and whistled loudly.

Liu Meng was the school beauty, admired by countless boys, but her personality kept them all at a distance.

That evening, Liu Sheng dragged his weary body home. He saw the spread on the table and, without even washing his hands, devoured everything.

His mother approached. “We saw an apartment today—two hundred square meters, four bedrooms, two living rooms. Four million. The price is a bit steep. Maybe we should look elsewhere tomorrow, find something smaller.”

His father came out and said, “Did you sell your animation yet? If not, it’s fine. My hotpot restaurant opens this weekend. If I work hard for a couple years, then we can think about buying a new place.”

Still eating, Liu Sheng didn’t pause. He reached into his pocket with one hand and pulled out the new bank card, speaking through a mouthful of food, “Here’s five million. Take a day off tomorrow and let’s go buy that two-hundred-square-meter, four-bedroom apartment!”