allendalepharm Chapter 1647 I've Got You All Gone
Chapter 1647 I've Got You All Gone
That Bentley took root in Fang Xiewen's mind.
It wasn't that he wanted to remember it; it was just that the car's engine sound was so distinctive—deep, resonant, like a tiger snoring. What would a liberal arts student call that? A roar? A howl? Neither. It was the sound of money. The moment the accelerator was pressed, the air was filled with the smell of burning banknotes.
He tossed and turned in bed.
The image that comes to mind when I close my eyes is Huang Yimei's profile as she bends down and crawls into the car.
Bentley. He checked, and currently it's only sold in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, and one costs over three million yuan. What does three million yuan mean? He can't even come up with three thousand yuan right now.
Fang Xiewen turned over, and the bed creaked. He could hear his roommate breathing evenly and snoring softly.
You have to make money.
Make lots and lots of money.
From then on, Fang Xiewen seemed to have become a different person. He stopped thinking about improving his professional skills and focused solely on making money. He would do anything as long as he was paid.
One night, my roommate Lao Zhang got up to go to the bathroom and saw Fang Xiewen still sitting in front of the computer. The blue light from the screen shone on his face, and his eyes were almost touching the screen.
"Trouble, why aren't you asleep yet? It's already past three o'clock."
"You go to sleep first, I'll finish running this code."
Old Zhang shook his head, finished urinating, and went back to sleep.
This situation lasted for about half a year. Fang Xiewen's grades dropped from the top five in the department to the teens. His advisor talked to him twice, but he just gave perfunctory answers and then buried himself in programming again.
By the end of the semester, he had already created promotional pages for several small companies outside the school, earning over five thousand yuan. Each company paid him eight hundred yuan, which was more than he earned as a tutor.
But that's not enough. Far from enough.
In his final semester of graduate school, Fang Xiewen began sending out resumes to major internet companies.
He had good grades and project experience, so his resume had a high success rate. The interview went smoothly; the written test tested algorithms, which he had practiced for three months and knew by heart. He answered the interviewer's questions directly, with clear logic and well-organized presentation.
Then came the salary negotiation stage.
The first company, a company in Shanghai, offered 7,000 yuan.
Fang Xiewen frowned. Seven thousand for a full-time job?
The second company, an e-commerce company in Hangzhou, offered 8,000 yuan. He thought for a moment and asked if it could be higher. They said that was the standard salary for a recent graduate.
The third company was a startup internet company in Shenzhen. I passed three technical interviews, and the CTO came to talk to me in person during the final interview. The man was in his early forties, wearing black-rimmed glasses. After asking me a few technical questions, he suddenly said, "Xiao Fang, you write good code. Come work for our company."
Fang Xiewen was stunned for a moment.
The CTO smiled and didn't pursue the topic further. He ultimately offered a salary of 10,000 yuan, saying it was the highest they could offer a recent graduate.
Ten thousand.
When Fang Xiewen walked out of that office building, he stood on the steps at the entrance and looked at the sunlight reflecting off the glass curtain wall of the building opposite.
At 10,000 yuan a month, that's 120,000 yuan a year. To save up 3 million yuan, he would have to save for 25 years without eating or drinking.
Twenty-five years from now, he'll be fifty, and Huang Yimei will probably have grandchildren who are old enough to run errands.
He stood there for a long time.
After returning, Fang Xiewen locked himself in his dormitory for two whole days.
On the morning of the third day, he pushed open the dormitory door and said to Lao Zhang, who was eating instant noodles, "I want to start a business."
Old Zhang almost spat out the instant noodles he was eating.
"Are you crazy?"
"I'm not crazy."
"Where did you get the money? You paid your tuition with student loans!"
Fang Xiewen didn't speak, but just stared at Lao Zhang. That look made Lao Zhang feel a little uneasy—not fierce, but with an inexplicable stubbornness, like a drowning person grabbing a straw and refusing to let go.
Old Zhang put down his instant noodles, wiped his mouth, and said, "Old Fang, we've been brothers for years, so let me tell you something from the bottom of my heart. We all know about your family situation. Your dad passed away early, and you've been supporting yourself through your postgraduate studies all these years. Now that you're finally graduating, wouldn't it be better to find a stable job? A salary of 10,000 yuan was already very high in 2002; many people dreamed of earning that much."
"I know."
"Then why are you still making a fuss?"
Fang Xiewen didn't answer. He turned his head and looked out the window. A girl rode by on a bicycle downstairs, her long hair fluttering in the wind, her silhouette somewhat resembling Huang Yimei. He blinked; the girl had already turned a corner and disappeared into the shade of the trees.
The other two roommates also returned one after another. When they heard from Lao Zhang that Fang Xiewen wanted to start a business, they both came over to persuade him.
"Old Fang, starting a business requires capital. Think about it, renting an office costs money, hiring people costs money, buying equipment costs money, how much do you have on hand?"
"The dot-com bubble has only been bursting for a short time, and countless companies have gone bankrupt. If you rush in now, aren't you just asking for trouble?"
"If you really want to do this, why don't you work for a big company for two years first, gain some experience and build up your network?"
Fang Xiewen sat on the edge of the bed, head down, fingers gripping the sheets. He knew his roommates meant well. Their words made sense, every single one was correct. But the thought in his mind seemed to have taken root, embedded in his bones, impossible to pull out.
The Bentley and Huang Yimei's back as she bent down and climbed into the car.
"I've made up my mind." Fang Xiewen raised his head. "Don't try to persuade me anymore."
Old Zhang opened his mouth, but in the end he sighed and said nothing.
The farewell dinner was arranged at a Sichuan restaurant not far from the school.
Seven people, one large round table. Old Zhang ordered a huge spread of dishes: boiled fish, spicy blood curd, spicy chicken, twice-cooked pork—all strongly flavored, filling the table to the brim. He also ordered two cases of beer, green bottles, stacked in the corner.
At first, everyone chatted normally, talking about their graduation thesis defense, the jobs they found, and which city they planned to develop their careers in.
Old Zhang signed a contract in Hangzhou for 7,500 yuan a month, including accommodation.
Fatty Wang went to Beijing, saying he got a job at a research institute; the salary wasn't high, but it was stable.
Xiao Li was admitted to the doctoral program at his own university and will continue his doctoral studies.
"What about Xiewen? Have you finalized your business plan yet?" Fatty Wang asked, picking up a piece of spicy chicken and chewing as he spoke.
Fang Xiewen took a sip of his drink and nodded: "It's settled."
"What exactly do you want to do?"
"internet."
"The internet is a huge place, you need to have a direction, right?"
Fang Xiewen was silent for a moment, then said, "Make websites. Make websites for businesses."
The table was silent for a few seconds.
Old Zhang put down his chopsticks: "Old Fang, I'm not trying to discourage you, but there are too many people doing website development now. You're all alone, without funds or a team, how are you going to compete with those big companies?"
“I don’t compete with them,” Fang Xiewen said. “I do the small stuff, the kind of deals that big companies don’t want.”
"Can you support yourself?"
"can."
Old Zhang didn't say anything more, raised his glass and clinked it with Fang Xiewen's: "Alright, brother, I wish you success."
The seven men took turns toasting. Fang Xiewen wasn't a good drinker, and after a few bottles, he started to feel tipsy. Fatty Wang patted him on the shoulder and said, "Old Fang, if you ever make it big, don't forget your brothers."
"Can't forget."
"If I ever can't make a living in the future, I'll come and come to you for help."
"it is good."
Fang Xiewen laughed along, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
They drank until after 10 p.m., and the group staggered out of the Sichuan restaurant. Fatty Wang had already vomited once and was leaning against the wall, panting heavily. Little Li was unsteady on his feet, and Old Zhang had to support him. Fang Xiewen had also drunk quite a bit; he was intoxicated not by the alcohol, but by his own state of mind.
A July night breeze blew by, carrying the heat and the smoky aroma of roadside barbecue stalls. The streets were still quite crowded, with people strolling in twos and threes. The milk tea shop near the school gate was still open, and a few girls sat on plastic chairs by the entrance, drinking milk tea and chatting animatedly.
Summer vacation hasn't officially started yet, and quite a few students are still staying on campus. The lights are on on the playground, and you can hear people playing basketball in the distance; the ball bounces dully on the concrete.
Fang Xiewen walked along the path under the sycamore trees, his steps unsteady. The alcohol slowly evaporated in his bloodstream, making him feel as if he were walking on cotton. He didn't know why he had come, nor what he was supposed to say, but he just couldn't control his legs.
A large number of people gathered on the playground.
From a distance, it looked like a vast, dark mass, numbering two or three hundred. Some people were holding cameras, some were whistling, and others were shouting slogans.
Fang Xiewen walked closer and saw a circle of fireworks set up in the open space in the center of the playground.
"What are you doing?" He grabbed a passing junior student.
"Oh, a rich kid is celebrating his girlfriend's birthday and invited people over to set off fireworks."
"I think she's in psychology, her name is Huang something-or-other..."
Fang Xiewen's brain buzzed.
He pushed his way through the crowd. People around him were excitedly discussing it; some were envious, some were jealous, and some were even jeering.
"This is such a grand spectacle! Those fireworks alone must have cost tens of thousands!"
"How romantic! I wish I had a boyfriend like that."
"Stop dreaming. Huang Yimei is beautiful and academically excellent. Can you compare to her?"
When Fang Xiewen squeezed to the front of the crowd, he saw the Bentley. It was black, parked by the playground, its headlights still on, illuminating a small patch of grass in front of it. Then he saw Qin Hao.
Qin Hao was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and he was holding a bouquet of roses.
Huang Yimei was wearing a light-colored dress, her hair was loose over her shoulders, and she had a smile on her face.
Fang Xiewen felt as if something had squeezed his heart tightly.
Then the fireworks went off.
When the first firework shot into the night sky, everyone gasped in unison. The enormous sound shook the ground, and a golden flower exploded in mid-air, scattering into countless golden threads that illuminated the entire playground.
Then came the second and the third—red, blue, and purple, layer upon layer, as if someone had moved the entire starry sky overhead.
Huang Yimei looked up at the fireworks, her smile flickering in the light of the fireworks.
Qin Hao walked up to her and said something. Huang Yimei looked down at him, but the sound of the fireworks was too loud for her to hear, so she leaned closer. Qin Hao repeated himself, but she still couldn't hear him clearly, so he simply pulled her close and kissed her.
At that moment, fireworks exploded right overhead.
A cheer erupted from the surrounding crowd. Some screamed, some clapped, and some whistled.
Fang Xiewen stood in the crowd, his whole body stiff.
Perhaps it was the alcohol taking effect, or perhaps the scene was too shocking for him, but the tension that had been building in Fang Xiewen's mind for a year suddenly snapped. He pushed through the people in front of him and stumbled forward.
"Huang Yimei!"
Huang Yimei was startled by this sudden turn of events. She stepped out of Qin Hao's arms and turned to look at the person who had arrived. When she saw that it was Fang Xiewen, her face immediately darkened.
"Huang Yimei, I never imagined you were such a vain person..."
Before he could finish speaking, a fist slammed into his face.
Fang Xiewen was sent flying and crashed to the ground. His mouth tasted of rust, and he spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with two back teeth.
Qin Hao shook his hand, stood in front of him, and looked down at him.
Watch your mouth.
"You—" Fang Xiewen tried to get up, but as soon as he braced himself on his knees, Qin Hao kicked him back down.
Hearing the commotion, the roommates squeezed through the crowd and saw Fang Xiewen being beaten; their drunkenness kicked in immediately.
Fatty Wang was the first to rush forward, but Qin Hao dodged to the side and delivered a swift elbow strike to Fatty Wang's back, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Old Zhang and Xiao Li attacked together. Qin Hao first kicked Old Zhang in the shin, making him kneel on one knee. Then he punched Xiao Li in the chin, making Xiao Li spin around and sit on the ground with a thud.
In less than ten seconds, all three people collapsed.
The onlookers were dumbfounded.
Huang Yimei quickly grabbed Qin Hao's arm: "Stop hitting him, or you'll get punished!"
Qin Hao stopped hitting Fang Xiewen and patted the cuff of his shirt. A button had popped off when he hit Fang Xiewen. He looked down at it and frowned.
Fang Xiewen got up from the ground, his mouth surrounded by blood, and half of his face was already swollen. He spat out two mouthfuls of blood, glared at Qin Hao, his eyes filled with hatred.
"You're just relying on your family's wealth, aren't you? If you're so capable, let's compete fairly—"
Qin Hao interrupted him before he could finish speaking.
"You're about to graduate with your master's degree, how can you still be so naive?"
Fang Xiewen was stunned.
Qin Hao took a step forward, his tone unhurried: "Where in this world is there absolute fairness? Some people are smart, some are stupid, some are beautiful, some are ugly—you must be one of the smart ones, looking down on those who are less intelligent than you, but have you ever thought that this is also a huge injustice?"
The surroundings quieted down. The students who had been watching the commotion fell silent, listening intently.
Fang Xiewen opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but couldn't find the right words. The wound in his mouth made him gasp for breath, and his mind was also muddled by the alcohol and anger.
"You think you're so smart that you should be superior to everyone else, above all others. Everyone who started higher than you should lower themselves to the same level as you for fair competition? Do you think that's fair?"
Some people in the crowd began to whisper among themselves.
"That doesn't seem wrong..."
"Yeah, why should we?"
Fang Xiewen gritted his teeth, blood and saliva mingling and dripping from the corner of his mouth: "You...you're twisting the facts! I just can't stand rich kids like you, who have such good conditions but are good for nothing and waste so many opportunities and resources—"
"Useless and incompetent?" Qin Hao raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get the idea that I'm useless and incompetent? Just because I drive nice cars, set off fireworks, and won over a girl you couldn't?"
Fang Xiewen's face turned even redder, whether from the alcohol or from anger, it was hard to tell.
"And another thing." Qin Hao suddenly stopped smiling, took a step forward, and lowered his voice: "Since you mentioned the second generation of rich kids, have you ever thought about this question—how do second-generation rich kids come about?"
Fang Xiewen was stunned.
"There has to be a first-generation rich before there can be a second-generation rich, right?"
Qin Hao sneered, "Decades ago, everyone was penniless. My parents risked going bankrupt to start a business, just so that my starting point would be a little higher than yours. Now you want me to compete fairly with you on the same starting point, then all my parents' efforts over the years have been in vain?"
"My parents' decades of hard work and dedication are completely negated by your ten years of studying hard—isn't that the biggest injustice?"
The murmurs on the playground grew louder.
"Damn, he makes a lot of sense."
"Yeah, if my parents work themselves to the bone just so I can have a better life, and then someone tells me to start from the same point as them with one sentence, what's the point of my parents working so hard?"
"We were able to get into Fudan University, which means our IQ is already higher than many people's. If we still complain about our fate, what about those who were born with intellectual disabilities or physical disabilities?"
The words may be rough, but the principle is sound.
Hearing the surrounding whispers, Fang Xiewen's face turned from red to a deep purplish-red. He didn't think he was wrong; he only felt that Qin Hao was a smooth talker, spreading misinformation. But he couldn't find a point to refute him, and his lips trembled for a long time, unable to utter a single word.
"Qin Hao, one day I'll make you regret this..."
Qin Hao clicked his tongue, his face full of disdain: "Shouldn't we add a line at the end—'Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river; never underestimate a young man's potential'?"
Someone in the crowd couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Qin Hao didn't laugh. He looked at Fang Xiewen, his gaze suddenly turning serious: "Fang Xiewen, do you really think you're the leading man in this world?"
“Let me make this clear—you’ll never have a chance to turn things around in your life. From today onwards, whatever you do, I’ll use all my resources to suppress you. I’ve got you cornered.”
After saying that, Qin Hao frowned. Why did it sound so much like a villain's line? He turned to look at Huang Yimei, who was pursing her lips, wanting to laugh but not actually doing so.
Fang Xiewen's face was as black as could be. He stared intently at Qin Hao, his teeth grinding together, the blood at the corner of his mouth still wet.
"Hmph, I don't believe you can control everything. We'll see!"
His gaze shifted from Qin Hao to Huang Yimei's face. Huang Yimei was also looking at him, but there was no sympathy, no guilt, not even anger in her eyes, only a cold indifference, as if she were looking at a stranger.
Fang Xiewen etched that glance into his mind, then turned and left. (End of Chapter)