Chapter : 15
In the noisy, dimly lit night market, the exquisitely arranged dessert table quickly caught people’s attention.
Zhou Qingluo immediately shouted with a smile, “Have dessert after your meal, sweet like first love, healthy and good for you, happy like a god—don’t miss it as you pass by!”
Lou Yang was stunned. Zhou Qingluo, with his delicate, first-love-like appearance, casually came up with such a flirtatious line—it was quite striking.
Passersby probably felt the same as Lou Yang, and soon a crowd had gathered.
Even desserts at five-star hotel banquets, known for their appearance and quality, wouldn’t attract such attention. But judging by how it looked, a crowd quickly formed.
Someone asked, “How much are these?”
Zhou Qingluo replied, “This one’s fifteen, this one’s twelve. All made today, shelf life three days, buy four get one free.”
Lou Yang couldn’t figure out how Zhou Qingluo decided on these rules, but seeing more people buying, he trusted him.
Soon, all the desserts were sold, and they earned a total of four thousand yuan.
Zhou Qingluo gave Lou Yang two thousand yuan.
Lou Yang was overjoyed, grabbing Zhou Qingluo by the shoulders and shaking him, “Qingluo! You’re amazing!”
Zhou Qingluo: “Stop! I’m getting a concussion.”
“This is the first time I’ve earned money!”
Zhou Qingluo looked puzzled: “Aren’t you working at a cake shop?”
“Not even a full month yet. Sister Cui hasn’t paid me.”
Zhou Qingluo smiled and started packing up.
Lou Yang suddenly sighed gloomily, “Sigh, I should’ve studied properly in college. Now I’m so specialized I can’t even get a degree, let alone a proper job.”
Lou Yang had at least attended a reputable university, but he spent college addicted to games, only liked programming classes, and neglected everything else—so much so that the school didn’t give him a diploma.
Everyone around thought he was a loser.
Zhou Qingluo asked, “Why do you want a proper job?”
“To earn well, buy a house and a car, and marry a wife.”
“But aren’t you earning well now?”
Lou Yang was inspired. “Tomorrow’s my day off; I’ll deliver food part-time. Qingluo, take me with you.”
Zhou Qingluo: “I’m off tomorrow too.”
“…You also rest? I thought you work like crazy.”
“Health is the foundation of everything.”
At that moment, Zhou Qingluo’s phone dinged—it was a message from Star Original Comics.
【Dear Mr. Zhou Qingluo, your comic ‘Breaking Cocoon,’ published under the pen name ‘San Ge,’ has passed our review. We sincerely invite you to become our signed online author. Please log in to complete your information.】
Zhou Qingluo put away his phone, smiled, and turned to Lou Yang: “You know programming—you can take freelance jobs.”
Lou Yang hugged Zhou Qingluo excitedly, jumping up and down, “Qingluo, you’re a god of wealth!”
“Exactly. We’ll get richer and richer.”
Lou Yang pointed at a Porsche on the road: “See that Porsche? That’ll be mine one day.”
Zhou Qingluo pointed to the sky: “I’m different—I’ll fly a plane.”
Lou Yang calmed down and asked, “By the way, how did you come up with this pricing? It’s all the same cake—why sell some for fifteen and some for twelve? Is there a trick?”
“Split the price into two parts. Customers’ choices are smaller, so they can quickly get what they want. Most night market groups are three or fewer people. Buy four get one free—three, four, or five-person groups will likely buy four. It meets most people’s needs. Got it?”
Lou Yang was impressed and gave him a thumbs-up: “Qingluo, have you done this before?”
Zhou Qingluo laughed: “You’re the one who sold before.”
“I meant selling cakes, why are you so dirty-minded?”
“I meant selling cakes too, why are you so dirty-minded?”
They were so happy, it felt like they earned not four thousand, but forty million.
Late at night, the two of them talked passionately about dreams by the roadside, unaware that in a black Porsche rushing toward them sat Song Ling.
The person picking up Song Ling was Jiao Zuo.
Jiao Zuo had been away on business, unable to watch over Song Ling. As expected, Song Ling went to Jiang Shiyan’s graduation banquet.
Song Ling’s self-destructive behavior didn’t surprise Jiao Zuo. What surprised him was that Song Ling personally called him to come pick him up.
Since Song Ling went to suffer at Jiang Shiyan’s, Jiao Zuo was ready to search the world for him.
Unexpectedly, when he arrived at the hotel, Song Ling was sitting properly on a sofa in the lobby, slightly dirty, with blood on his chest, as if someone had pushed him to the ground and beaten him.
Jiao Zuo angrily said, “Whoa, did someone hit you?”
Song Ling looked up and gave him a cold glance.
Jiao Zuo laughed at his own thought—Song Ling usually hit others; who dared to hit him?
“Who did you hit? You’re bleeding.”
Song Ling scowled and didn’t answer, walking silently to the car.
Until now, he hadn’t said a word, like a dead calm lake.
Jiao Zuo couldn’t resist mocking: “Nobody invited you, and you went there to hurt yourself. You idiot, you deserved it. What’s so special about Jiang Shiyan? He just saved you once in the pool when you were ten. Still thinking about it now?”
Song Ling couldn’t explain what was so good about Jiang Shiyan; after returning to the Song family, he was the only one willing to treat him well.
Jiao Zuo talked to himself, getting no response. As the car passed the small night market, Song Ling suddenly reacted—he sat up straight and looked out the window.
Following his gaze, Jiao Zuo saw two men laughing and hugging each other near the lively night market.
They were even discussing whether they had sold before.
Jiao Zuo knew Song Ling’s orientation. Just after being hurt badly by Jiang Shiyan, seeing this affectionate scene was another blow.
Jiao Zuo: “Tsk, young people these days really have no discipline. How disgraceful—so public, against all manners.”
