Chapter 34 Did Your Nose Smell Money and Come Running?
“What the heck is wrong with you all?!”
Xia Fenghua suddenly found her long noodles no longer appetizing.
“Jinx! Hua-zi, you better spit too!”
Ma Siyi sat across from her with a bowl in hand, supervising her.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Siyi, you should be hanging out with me! You’ve been influenced by Zimo and become way too cautious!”
Bai Zimo chuckled softly.
“If my grandma and Grandma Ma were here, you’d be getting a half-hour lecture right now.”
“Grandma Ma and Grandma Lin would never scold me!”
“That said, the advice of the older generation isn’t nonsense.
“Bad omens are like opening Pandora’s box.
“Once the words are out, who knows what kind of ‘butterfly effect’ they’ll trigger?
“As they say, ‘A kind word warms three winters, but a cruel word chills six Junes.’
“Some things are better believed than ignored. Speak with caution.”
People who made a living on the water tended to be more superstitious. After all, half of their livelihood and lives were handed over to luck.
“My bad, big bros, didn’t you all just gang up on me with six spits? Isn’t that enough?”
Zhou Haikuo said, “My grandpa always said, a man doesn’t have to be rich, but he must be responsible. Even if the sky falls, he must hold it up.”
“That’s how all the men in our courtyard are!”
“Except Chen Rui didn’t live in our courtyard,” someone chimed in.
While eating her noodles, Hua-zi muttered, “Don’t flatter yourself. Xie Wanghe, aren’t you embarrassed? Don’t bully Chen Rui just because he’s a nice guy!”
“How am I embarrassing myself! Hua-zi, that’s a personal attack!”
“Tell me, how many of mine and Siyi’s ice creams have you mooched?”
Ever since teaming up with Bai Zimo to make money, the economic power dynamic had flipped. Hua-zi used to mooch snacks from Xie Wanghe, but now it was the other way around!
Xie Wanghe sheepishly lowered his head and stirred his noodles with his chopsticks. Didn’t feel weird when we were kids. But now it feels wrong mooching snacks from a girl.
“I’m mooching off Zimo! Besides, don’t you use my internet card?”
“Please, this lady has long been free in both snacks and internet!”
“Fine, Zimo, Hua-zi, want to go to the internet café? My treat!”
Bai Zimo and Hua-zi answered in unison.
“But you used to go!”
I suspect you two are using code words.
I just have no proof!
When Bai Zimo made his first pot of gold, he did consider opening an internet cafe.
But in the early years of running one, your ancestors would be cursed by angry parents nonstop.
Randomly being greeted with “curse your ancestors,” “curse your mom,” all sorts of colorful invective!
Bai Zimo thought better of it. There were many other ways to make money.
Having your ancestors constantly dragged out for a verbal beatdown? That’s just unfilial!
Plus, one safety accident had pretty much ruined the future of that industry.
“Chen Rui, you collected stamps before, right?”
Bai Zimo suddenly remembered the Monkey Stamp in his space.
“Yeah, I used to collect some!”
“Got time later? Come with me to the cultural center’s antique street. I’ve got a Monkey Stamp I want appraised.”
“A Monkey Stamp? Seriously?”
“Need someone to take a look! If it’s real, are you interested in buying?”
“Forget it, I’m broke, and my mom banned me from collecting stamps!”
Studies came first—exams were coming. Chen Rui’s family was stricter.
“Zimo, planning to strike it rich again?”
Hua-zi suddenly leaned in close.
Bai Zimo tapped her nose.
“Yes! Did your nose smell money and come running? Wanna join?”
“I’ll pass. You guys go first! I’ll find you later.”
Outside the Honghuai City Cultural Center was a small antique street. Compared to big places like Liulichang in Beijing, Panjiayuan, Chenghuang Temple in Shanghai, or Chaotiangong in Nanjing, this one was tiny. But even small ones gather the local collector crowd.
Shops, street vendors, hobbyists, treasure hunters—The vibrant scene showed the collecting craze was booming.
“Do you know any of the antique shops here?” Bai Zimo asked.
“I don’t, but Xingchi’s dad probably does!”
“Alright, then we’ll borrow some clout!”
They didn’t come here often.
Bai Zimo only knew one old guy who sold antiques—Old Zheng. He walked into the shop and got straight to the point.
“Master Zheng, Teacher Shao referred me!”
“Shao from the Cultural Center?”
“Yes, the famous writer Shao Bingyi!”
“Oh, bringing something today?”
The shopkeeper’s attitude warmed a bit. Didn’t expect Xingchi’s dad to have some face here.
“I’ve got a 1980 Monkey Stamp, could you take a look?”
“One stamp or a full sheet?”
Bai Zimo carefully laid the system-rewarded stamp on a blank sheet of paper.
“Shame. A full sheet would’ve been worth a lot. But this is the real deal, and in decent condition. On Mr. Shao’s account, I’ll offer 1,000 if you want to sell.”
Just as they started talking business, Shao Xingchi’s dad pulled up outside on his bike.
“Mr. Shao, why didn’t you give me a heads-up you were sending someone?”
The moment Bai Zimo saw him, his heart skipped a beat.
Why did Xingchi’s dad have to show up now, of all times?