Who Would Fall in Love After Being Reborn?

Chapter 3: Making Money Isn’t Easy



TL: Etude

After leaving the Fanhuali community, Jiang Qin headed straight for home.

His 120-square-meter apartment with three bedrooms, a living room to the left and a kitchen to the right, held almost all of Jiang Qin’s cherished memories.

His mother, Yuan Youqin, was cooking, her chopping on the cutting board loud and clear, a sound indicative of a meat dish, and one with bones at that.

His father, Jiang Zhenghong, sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, humming “The Clouds of My Hometown,” his slippers dangling from his toes.

Feeling the familiar warmth of home, Jiang Qin couldn’t help but become sentimental.

Having drifted in the city for many years, he realized he was still a rootless duckweed; his roots were here, making this place an irreplaceable home.

Especially seeing his parents suddenly looking younger, the feeling was truly wondrous.

“I’m back!”

Jiang Zhenghong squinted at him: “Finished your exams?”

Yuan Youqin also peeked out from the kitchen: “How did it go? Are you confident?”

“One foot is already in the door of the top universities.”

“You brat, speaking so confidently, is that true or false?” Yuan Youqin eyed him skeptically.

Jiang Zhenghong, however, was supportive: “If he dares to make such a bold claim, he must have some assurance. Let’s have a good drink tonight, father and son!”

Jiang Qin waved his hand and outright refused: “Dad, I’ve decided. I want to start a business during the summer break. I can’t afford to waste any time.”

“Start a business?”

“It means making money.”

Yuan Youqin pondered for a moment: “Then after dinner, you can wash the dishes. Five yuan for each dish, ten for the pot.”

Jiang Qin sighed but didn’t argue: “Let me wash the dishes and pots, how about 300 yuan in total?”

After hearing this, Jiang Zhenghong suddenly looked up: “Is there such a good deal? Then I’ll do it too!”

“Go away. 300 is enough for me to buy a new set. I wash dishes and pots every day and no one gives me 300. Go wash your hands for dinner!”

“Alas, my business venture has ended before it even began.”

With a sigh, Jiang Qin washed his hands and joined his parents for dinner.

Before going to bed, Yuan Youqin came out of the bedroom and stuffed five Mao Zedong notes into his hand.

She knew that after high school, it was like letting a wild horse loose. Hanging out with classmates and singing would cost money. The offer of five yuan for dishwashing was just her being stubborn yet soft-hearted.

Holding the five hundred yuan, Jiang Qin’s heart was slightly sour.

Which big entrepreneur started with only five hundred? But still, it was better than nothing.

“Mrs. Yuan, from now on, you’re the mother of a chairman!”

“You being a general manager would satisfy me. Oh, and I asked your uncle at noon. Will you go to Zhengfang Driving School to learn driving in a few days?”

“I’ll talk about driving lessons later; I have important things to do right now.”

Taking the money, Jiang Qin returned to his room, turned on the computer, and found Guo Zihang’s QQ account, telling him to meet at Central Street early the next morning.

Guo Zihang asked what they were going to do. Jiang Qin didn’t specify, only mentioning he had five hundred yuan, which made Guo Zihang eagerly call him brother.

After arranging tomorrow’s plan, Jiang Qin casually opened Baidu, intending to browse the news to recall memories of key points like demolition and reconstruction, policy changes, stock market status, market premiums, all in preparation for getting rich.

But before the webpage loaded, his gaze settled on his QQ friend list.

Was Chu Siqi’s chat box pinned to the top?

Jiang Qin moved his mouse over and immediately unpinned it, locked his own space, and changed his non-mainstream profile picture.

After these adjustments, he glanced at his personal signature and cringed at what he saw.

[“I love you, what’s it to you?”]

Embarrassed, Jiang Qin slapped his forehead, quickly deleted it, and replaced it with a song lyric from the previous day.

After changing his signature, Jiang Qin noticed that Chu Siqi, who was offline just a moment ago, had suddenly come online, and her avatar was flashing, obviously indicating a new message.

He casually opened it and then closed it disinterestedly.

She asked why he suddenly closed his space and ordered him to reopen it, saying she wanted to ‘step’ on his space.

‘Step’ on his space? It had been years since he’d heard such an old-fashioned phrase. Did she also want to ‘run a hall’?

The next day dawned clear and sunny, with a gentle, warm breeze.

Jiang Qin rode his bike out and arrived at Pingyang East Road’s pedestrian street.

This street was the busiest commercial pedestrian street in Jizhou City. Before the old market was renovated, it was a fiercely contested golden spot for various vendors. Due to intense competition and price wars, the items here were relatively inexpensive.

Guo Zihang, enticed by the five hundred yuan in Jiang Qin’s pocket, pedaled quickly and arrived at the meeting spot drenched in sweat.

“Bro Jiang, how do you plan to spend the 500 yuan? I’ve never been to a bar. Should we try it out?”

“Stop talking nonsense. Do you see that uncle selling boxed lunches over there? Go ask how much they cost.”

Guo Zihang looked in the direction Jiang Qin pointed and his face paled: “We’re having boxed lunches for lunch?”

Jiang Qin squinted his eyes, not saying much: “Just go and ask. Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”

“Oh.”

Guo Zihang trudged over and asked. In 2008, prices weren’t too high: boxed lunches with shredded potato were two yuan, three yuan with some minced meat, five with a chicken leg and shredded potato, and six with a chicken leg and a fried egg.

Jiang Qin looked at the time, thought for a moment, handed the vendor two hundred yuan, and told him just to keep making them without questions.

Then, he found two cardboard boxes, packed some of the ready meals, and took Guo Zihang to a street full of internet cafes.

Entering one of the cafes, Jiang Qin handed a pack of Yuxi cigarettes he bought on the way to the manager and began selling his boxed lunches. The gamers who had been online all night were starving, unwilling to go out to eat, and were immediately tempted by the meals delivered right to their door.

Although boxed lunches were nothing special, they were surely better than instant noodles, right? So, two-yuan meals were sold for four, five-yuan ones for seven, and six-yuan ones for nine. In the end, except for two chicken leg and egg lunches, everything sold out.

From seven in the morning until one in the afternoon, they made three rounds back and forth, switching between five different internet cafes and even raised the prices twice.

Exhausted, Guo Zihang was panting heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Jiang Qin’s back was soaked with sweat too. He sat on the curb, wiping his brow and counting the money.

The two hundred yuan worth of boxed lunches sold for three hundred and seventy-eight, leaving two chicken leg lunches, one for each of them.

He wasn’t doing this just for the money, but rather to clarify his thoughts. It seemed the approach was viable; money could be made, but the profit margin was too thin.

However, Jiang Qin wasn’t disappointed. What significant profit could one expect from an initial investment of two hundred yuan? Surely not thousands.

He had never done business before his rebirth. Today’s venture was solely to experience the feeling of making money.

But to be honest, it felt like a loss. Just the Yuxi cigarettes cost over a hundred yuan, plus half a day’s time. They were exhausted like dogs for a mere seventy-eight yuan profit.

But what if he had more capital and dealt with more valuable items? A seventy-eight yuan profit on larger sums could be quite good.

Jiang Qin handed Guo Zihang fifty yuan. No longer complaining, Guo Zihang eagerly thanked him.

“Bro, are we doing this again tomorrow?”

“Hell no, I’m almost dead tired. We only made seventy-eight yuan, and I already gave you fifty. The rest is barely enough to buy a pack of cigarettes.”

Grumbling, Jiang Qin was still internally calculating his plans for his first bucket of gold.

Where could he earn that first bucket of gold? In web novels, those reborn characters easily make big deals. Why couldn’t he do the same? If nothing worked, he might as well convince his parents to sell the house and invest in Bitcoin and Moutai stocks.

At that moment, the lunchbox vendor, holding a spatula, approached. He looked at Jiang Qin and then came over mysteriously, offering a Bai Jiangjun cigarette.

“How much did you sell the boxed lunches for, the ones that cost two hundred yuan?”

Jiang Qin took the cigarette, calmly lifted his head, and replied, “Four hundred and sixty.”

Guo Zihang was surprised, wasn’t it three hundred and seventy-eight?

But seeing Jiang Qin’s composed demeanor, he didn’t dare speak up and just hung his head silently.

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