Chapter 23: Hello, I’m Daoist Jiang Zhou
In the bustling campus full of people, the girl across the road stood out.
She wore a black mini skirt, showing off her fair, well-proportioned legs.
On top, she had on a tight-fitting, open-neck T-shirt that perfectly outlined her curves.
While she wasn’t as stunning as Chu Yuwei, she was definitely a beauty in her own right.
Most importantly, she clearly got way more nutrients than Chu Yuwei!
“Hey, were you calling me just now?” the girl asked.
Jiang Zhou stubbed out his cigarette and walked over to her.
This girl was Han Rou, the student council president.
In his previous life, Jiang Zhou had been a part of the student council, so he had some connection with her and knew a bit about her.
Since he was planning to start a business on campus, getting support from the student council president was a must.
She had authority over student affairs and had good relationships with the faculty, so she could speak up for him when needed.
With that in mind, Jiang Zhou planned to tease her a little, leave a lasting impression.
And how would he do that?
Well, don’t forget, he was someone who had lived this life once before.
“Poor Daoist that I am, my surname is Jiang, given name Zhou, courtesy name Scumbag. I studied Daoist arts under Mount Longhu and was sent down the mountain to gain worldly experience.
“I was instructed to secretly protect a certain campus beauty.
“I just saw a dark aura surrounding you… looks like bad luck is coming.”
Han Rou stared at him blankly, then turned to leave.
What a buzzkill. First day of the semester and she ran into a lunatic.
Sent down the mountain?
Clearly watched too many fantasy dramas.
But just as she was about to go, Jiang Zhou called out, “Your birthday’s August 9th, right? I’m not wrong, am I?”
Han Rou stopped in her tracks, turned her head, and said with a trace of arrogance, “So what? That info’s on the school website. What kind of scam are you running?”
“But I also know… there’s an egg-shaped red birthmark on your right hip.”
“…What did you just say?!”
This time, Han Rou was genuinely shocked.
No one had ever seen her body.
She always wore pajamas to bed and showered in private stalls.
Even her roommates didn’t know about that birthmark.
She was a materialist, well-educated and logical.
But this? Who wouldn’t get shaken?
Jiang Zhou smiled slightly.
Well… at a student council party in their previous life, she had gotten drunk and gone wild.
He happened to be there and had accidentally seen it.
“Do you believe me now?”
Han Rou hesitated, but kept a calm expression. “Tell me… how do you know about that?”
“I calculated it with my fingers.”
“…So what do you want from me?”
“I read the stars and saw an ominous sign hanging over you.”
Han Rou looked down. “I’m not wearing anything weird…”
“Uh— spicy. But no, I meant what’s the bad omen? Hmm… not clear yet. But definitely serious.”
She hesitated. “I still think you’re a scammer.”
Then Jiang Zhou’s face turned solemn. “I also know that you have a scar below your belly from an appendectomy.”
“Okay! That’s enough! I believe you, alright?!”
“Now you see how serious this is.”
Han Rou looked a little panicked. “So… what should I do?”
Jiang Zhou thought for a moment. “Call me Big Brother.”
“…What does that have to do with anything?”
“I once swore that I’d only help pitiful little sisters.”
She hesitated for a long moment before muttering, “…Big Brother, what should I do?”
“Relax. I’ve got you covered. Just remember, whenever you see me, call me Big Brother. Got it?”
Han Rou nodded. “G-Got it…”
Jiang Zhou smiled with satisfaction. “Good girl. Off you go. I’ll find you if something comes up.”
“561***238, add me on QQ.”
She quickly added him and sent a friend request.
College students weren’t superstitious, but they were easy to fool.
Especially by someone like Jiang Zhou, a walking cheat code.
He knew loads of useful — and useless — information.
Fooling someone was a piece of cake.
That said, he did have his limits.
He’d never use this knowledge to actually do anything bad.
“Big Brother… I’ll go now?”
Watching her walk away, Jiang Zhou suddenly felt quite cheerful.
How had he never noticed how adorable Han Rou was in his past life?
Must’ve been the whole birthmark reveal that shook her too hard.
He really shouldn’t mess around like that again.
He might leave someone with trauma.
Feeling good, Jiang Zhou kept wandering around.
Eventually, he found himself in front of a bulletin board filled with part-time job postings.
These weren’t unusual. Bulletin boards were all over campus.
But this time, Jiang Zhou couldn’t look away.
Wasn’t that just takeout?
Why were so many businesses recruiting their own delivery people?
Then it hit him. The “Hungry Yet” app had just launched.
And Meituan’s delivery service didn’t even exist yet, so restaurants had to hire their own delivery staff!
This was a college town and lazy students were everywhere.
Even without delivery apps, phone orders were already common.
And what defined college students?
They spent money like water and didn’t care about small fees.
The food street outside was full of vendors.
The campus itself had an uncountable number of students.
And what was missing?
A platform to connect those vendors with those students.
That’s it. A food delivery platform.
Turn delivery into a full-fledged industry.
Bridge the gap between merchant and customer.
This wasn’t just a business idea.
It was a golden opportunity being served on a silver platter.
Right now, the founder of “Hungry Yet,” Zhang Rihao, was still just a student.
He had only discovered the same opportunity last year and was just getting started.
Which meant that Jiang Zhou was still on even footing with him.
It wouldn’t be until 2011 that Zhang Rihao landed millions in investment, expanding his service from a small campus startup into a nationwide business.
Even Meituan would end up copying his model.