048 The First Sum of Money

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“Well, then go look for your giant panda.” With this retort, Yang Tang, not waiting for Shen Chen, slapped a Huabei note on the table, stood up, and prepared to leave.

Fang Yuhua didn’t move, but said coolly, “I heard your talk with the QianDu people didn’t go so well.”

Yang Tang felt a bit helpless at this. “Ms. Fang, I know you’re influential in Shenhai, and also that you have too much time on your hands. There are plenty of people out on the street—why don’t you go bother them instead of me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Yang Tang was on the verge of tears.

“Unless you compete with me in the fourth round.”

Yang Tang was left speechless.

“What? Are you afraid?” Fang Yuhua’s tone turned aggressive again. “If you can beat me, I’ll buy your software, and the price will be no less than five million!”

Yang Tang rolled his eyes. “No thanks.”

“Why not?” Now it was Fang Yuhua’s turn to be confused. “QianDu is only offering five hundred thousand. Are you allergic to money?”

Yang Tang glared at her. “Who the hell is allergic to money? The problem is... The problem is, anyway, there’s no way I can explain it to you!” With that, he was already stepping away from the table, ready to leave.

Fang Yuhua suddenly stood and blocked his path. “You’re not leaving until you explain yourself!” Yang Tang nearly collided with her chest.

“What on earth do you want?” Yang Tang was genuinely angry now. “You’re wasting my life, do you know that?”

Fang Yuhua was stunned for a moment, then a trace of sadness appeared on her pretty face. “Ha, so you still have a life to waste. But what about me? Every day I just eat and wait to die. If I don’t find something to amuse myself, how am I supposed to go on?” The moment she cursed, the other diners who had been sneaking glances at her were instantly petrified.

At last, Yang Tang understood. So this Miss Fang was living too comfortably, drifting through days of pleasure, oblivious to life’s troubles, and gradually developed a sense of ennui—like Saint Mother Zheng Zha, eating and sleeping but not knowing why she existed, desperate for excitement.

To put it plainly, Fang Yuhua was mildly depressed, even showing signs of self-destructive tendencies.

Unfortunately, Yang Tang was neither a miracle doctor nor a saint; even though he understood this rich girl’s malaise, he couldn’t help her. “You want some fun? That’s easy.” He thought to himself, “If it’s fun you’re after, you’re out of luck. But if you want to court death, I can offer you a dozen ways right now.”

“How is it easy?” Fang Yuhua asked, puzzled.

Yang Tang opened his mouth, ready to set a trap for her, perhaps suggest she try something wild, when a familiar female voice called from nearby, “Yang Tang?”

“That’s me.” Yang Tang replied, turning his head. He saw a woman at least half a head shorter than Fang Yuhua, simply dressed, regarding him intently. She wasn’t beautiful, but her features had character, and she didn’t give off an unpleasant vibe. “Shen Chen?”

“Hello, I’m Shen Chen!” Shen Chen offered her hand.

Yang Tang shook it briefly, not blaming her for being late. “Shall we find somewhere to talk?”

“Sure.”

“Wait a minute!” Fang Yuhua cut in again. “Yang Tang, can’t you talk here?”

“Absolutely not,” Yang Tang shot back without hesitation.

“Then I’m coming with you!” Fang Yuhua declared on a whim.

Yang Tang was about to lose his mind.

Fang Yuhua could tell that Yang Tang was on the verge of exploding, so she quickly backed off half a step. “I’ll just listen in and keep quiet, alright?”

Yang Tang felt a headache coming on. He knew if Fang Yuhua insisted on following, he’d never shake her off, so he passed the problem to Shen Chen. “Ms. Shen, what do you think?”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like we’re discussing anything confidential.” Shen Chen was not only unbothered, but even greeted Fang Yuhua. “You must be Lady Fang, the daughter of Lord Fang? I’ve heard so much about you but never met you. Hello, I’m Shen Kuang’s daughter, Shen Chen!”

To her surprise, Fang Yuhua’s face turned cold. “What’s there to say hello for? I know Uncle Kuang, but is it necessary for me to know you?”

Shen Chen was taken aback.

Yang Tang was even more speechless. How could a woman as attractive as Fang Yuhua, easily a 95 out of 100, have such a terrible temper, flipping moods at the drop of a hat?

Luckily, Shen Chen was gracious and didn’t take offense. She led the way out of the diner and headed for the nearest café.

The café was quiet. Though it was about two-thirds full, most people kept to themselves and barely noticed the three newcomers.

They found a corner, called the waitress, and each ordered a coffee. Shen Chen now treated Fang Yuhua as if she were invisible and turned to Yang Tang. “Although I’m eighty percent sure you’re Yang Tang, I still need to confirm.”

Before Yang Tang could reply, Fang Yuhua interrupted, “It’s either a yes or a no. What’s with the eighty percent—” As she spoke, she caught Yang Tang’s murderous glare and trailed off, muttering under her breath, “Fine, I’ll be quiet. What’s the big deal.”

Only then did Yang Tang speak. “Ms. Shen, how do you want to confirm?”

“Such exquisite lines as ‘Two souls, one mind, even without wings, they fly together’—can you still compose poetry like that?” Shen Chen asked with a smile.

Yang Tang scratched his head, wondering how to respond, when Fang Yuhua couldn’t help but chime in, “That poem—”

“Shut up!” Yang Tang barked at her, then turned to Shen Chen. “Sorry, Ms. Shen, a poem like that comes only by happy accident. If I could compose such lines at will, I’d have been admitted to the Royal Academy of Literature long ago!”

To his surprise, the eyes of both women sparkled at the same time. Shen Chen said, “Happy accident—Yang Tang, what a wonderful phrase!”

Yang Tang was momentarily stunned, then recalled that the phrase “happy accident” originated with Lu You, who didn’t exist in this world. No wonder both Shen Chen and Fang Yuhua looked astonished. So, thick-skinned as ever, Yang Tang began to recite impromptu:

“Writing is born of nature’s hand,
By chance alone, a masterpiece is planned.
So flawless, pure, and free from blight,
What need of artifice or contrived delight?”

“Wonderful, wonderful poem!” Shen Chen couldn’t help clapping, drawing glances from the other patrons.

But the café crowd was nothing if not pretentious. Even though it was clearly Shen Chen’s outburst that disrupted the peace, none would say so—especially since Shen Chen, though plain, was still considered a beauty by the standards of their era, where even a woman with painted lips and powder on her wrinkles could be called beautiful. To the artsy types—especially the men—she was certainly attractive, and men who fancied themselves refined were always indulgent toward a pretty face.

Noticing Shen Chen, one young man’s gaze then shifted to the icy beauty Fang Yuhua, who sat silent and aloof—he was instantly struck dumb by her stunning looks.

Yang Tang, seeing this, shot a glare at Fang Yuhua, then turned to Shen Chen. “I think we’d better find somewhere else to talk, or soon we’ll be swarmed by admirers.”

Shen Chen glanced at Fang Yuhua, a smile tugging at her lips. “Good idea.”

“What are you smirking at? It’s not like I chose to look this way,” Fang Yuhua snapped at Shen Chen, heading out the door first.

What a piece of work, Yang Tang thought, shaking his head as he followed Shen Chen out of the café.

Sure enough, even though Fang Yuhua had withdrawn to the curb outside, there were still fearless young men pretending to leave in a hurry, only to walk straight up to her. “Miss, do you have the time?”

Fang Yuhua didn’t even bother replying. She simply raised her hand and slapped him, leaving the would-be suitor utterly stunned.

Just then, Xiao Gang pulled the Cadillac up beside her. Without hesitation, Fang Yuhua opened the door and got in, calling out to Yang Tang, “Hurry up and get in! We’ll get a ticket if we park here.”

If you know about the ticket, why have him park here? Yang Tang thought.

He grumbled, gestured for Shen Chen to get in first, then, as he passed the dazed young man, whispered, “Next time you see a beauty, just call her ‘beauty’—not ‘miss,’ understand?”

The backseat of the Cadillac was spacious enough for three people, especially when it was one man and two women. Yang Tang took the seat by the left window, while Fang Yuhua insisted on switching places with Shen Chen to sit in the middle.

Yang Tang was exasperated, but since he was riding in Fang Yuhua’s car, he couldn’t very well criticize her. He simply ignored her and asked Shen Chen, “Ms. Shen, where shall we talk now?”

Shen Chen thought for a moment. “How about my temporary office? It’s over by the Flower Garden!” She checked her watch. “Oh, it’s almost three o’clock. That’s actually perfect—apart from the security guard, everyone else should have left early to rest up for tomorrow.”

“They leave so early?” Yang Tang was surprised.

“The flower festival opens tomorrow. Everything’s ready, so today everyone’s going home early to recharge.”

“So I’ll have to come to the festival tomorrow?”

“That depends on your choice. The festival runs for three days, and the poetry contest will accept submissions on site. If you’re confident, you can finish your entry on the first day—so long as you meet our agreed conditions, I’ll pay you as promised.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” Yang Tang replied noncommittally.

“Oh, and here—this is for you.” Shen Chen took an envelope from her bag and handed it to Yang Tang.

He didn’t open it immediately. “What’s inside?”

“There are a few tickets to the Peony Festival. You can visit the gardens any day you like. And there’s fifteen thousand in cash waiting at my office—a fortnight’s worth of room and board for you.”

Yang Tang was quite pleased—after all, a five-star hotel cost six hundred yuan per night, which was about six hundred dollars, and four hundred a day for meals was more than enough.

Seeing Yang Tang suppressing a smile, Fang Yuhua couldn’t help but tease, “Only a thousand a day? You’re that cheap?”

Yang Tang shot her a fierce glare. “Shut up!”

Xiao Gang, the driver, knew the roads of Shenhai like the back of his hand. What should have been a forty-minute drive to the Flower Garden took him only thirty.

The “garden” was actually a cluster of office buildings and a large central plaza. From a distance, the plaza was now ringed with draped partitions—obviously the venue for the Peony Festival.

The Cadillac pulled up to the main entrance of the underground car park only to find the way blocked.

“What’s this? The gate’s down?” Shen Chen said. “Let’s go in through the side entrance—there’s another gate there.” She directed Xiao Gang to take the detour, though she was a little puzzled.

They soon reached the side entrance, where the security guard raised the barrier and let the Cadillac in.

“How strange...”

“What’s wrong, Ms. Shen?”

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