Chapter 1 The First Day I Stopped Running The first day I stopped running...
Sunset.
Smoke rose from every chimney, and the sounds of bells, car horns, and street vendors' calls filled the air.
Chen Bozheng and his group walked into the alley, and none of them looked too happy.
This group of people came to Shenzhen from Beijing hoping to make a fortune, but little did they expect that before they could even get rich, trouble would strike first.
"Brother Zheng, we can't find this person, and all our money has gone down the drain. What should we do?"
The fat man was a bit impatient, and having spent so much time looking for someone, he was in a really bad mood, so he couldn't help but ask.
"Don't worry, I'll figure something out." Chen Bo, being tall, dodged two children riding past on their bicycles and greeted the neighbors.
"Xiao Chen, you're back so late. You're in for a treat. Your wife will be cooking tonight."
The neighbor, Aunt Sun, and her family sat at the door with their rice bowls in their hands, jokingly saying to Chen Bozheng.
In Shenzhen, where summers are hot, local residents are used to going out in the evenings to cool off and have dinner. They set up tables on the street and chat with their neighbors.
Chen Bozheng was taken aback. "My wife doesn't know how to cook. Aunt Xu, please don't joke around."
When he mentioned his wife, his expression remained unchanged, as if he were talking about a complete stranger.
Aunt Sun put down her bowl and pointed to the bungalow that Chen Bozheng and his family rented, "Would I lie to you? Your wife didn't know how to start a fire just now, so I helped her. I saw that she even bought some braised meat. Hurry up and go home for dinner."
Upon hearing this, Chen Bozheng was even more surprised.
Lin Qingfeng and the others also looked surprised.
Lin Qingfeng said, "Is this how you make up for what you did wrong?"
"You'll know once you go inside." Chen Bo pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The house they rented was fairly clean, and there was not much clutter in the yard. After entering the house, the monk closed the door, keeping out the gossipy stares of Aunt Xu's family.
"Hey, this is no fun anymore, old man. What do you think happened to those Beijingers this afternoon? Why did they all rush out and only come back now?"
Aunt Xu slurped up a mouthful of porridge and asked curiously.
Her husband, who was also a gossip, said, "How would we know? But it seems like Xiao Chen's wife has changed completely. She used to do nothing, but this afternoon she was cleaning the house and cooking."
Chen Bozheng and his group came to rent a house here, which had already attracted the attention of the neighbors.
After all, this group of people were all quite good-looking. Except for the fat guy with a beer belly, most of the others were quite presentable. In particular, Chen Bozheng and Wen Chan, this golden couple, looked just like Hong Kong and Taiwan singers. If you didn't know better, you would think they were from the Beijing Film Studio making a movie.
"Didn't they say that Xiao Chen's wife wasn't in good health?" The conversation between Aunt Xu and the others was cut off from the outside.
Inside the house.
When Wen Chan saw everyone return, she smiled and said, "You've come back just in time. The porridge has cooled down enough to not burn your mouths. You can take the dishes out and eat now."
The fat man saw a table full of food, his stomach rumbled, and he was about to reach out his hand when Lin Qingfeng stopped him.
Lin Qingfeng looked at Wen Chan with a cold expression.
The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly became somewhat tense.
Wen Chan felt a little embarrassed, but she didn't hate Lin Qingfeng. She knew why Lin Qingfeng disliked her.
Putting yourself in her shoes, if someone were to take all her assets, she wouldn't look too happy.
"Let's eat first, then we'll talk."
Chen Bo came forward, took a pot of porridge, and went outside.
The fat monk also came up to lend a hand, taking out the dishes one by one.
The dishes were just ordinary home-style cooking: scrambled eggs, stir-fried water spinach with fermented bean paste, and braised pork.
But after running around all afternoon, searching for people and asking questions, everyone was exhausted and ate every last drop of the pot of porridge.
Wen Chan also ate a bowl of porridge.
She's used to it; no matter what happens, she'll still eat and drink as usual.
After finishing their meal, Chen Bo asked Fatty to wash the dishes, while Lin Qingfeng and the monk wiped the table with rags.
Chen Bo lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, his undershirt already soaked with sweat. Mosquitoes buzzed in the yard, the sky was a pigeon gray, a gust of wind blew by, and the sound of neighbors gossiping came from outside. Some were talking about where they were going to work tomorrow, and others were nagging their children to hurry up and do their homework instead of watching TV.
"What exactly happened? What is your relationship with Wang Xinqiang?"
Chen Bozheng got straight to the point.
Wen Chan, after an afternoon of receiving the original owner's memories, wasn't unable to answer, but felt embarrassed and speechless.
“I don’t know that person very well. All I know is that he said he was a Hong Kong businessman and could take me to Hong Kong and help me contact a hospital for surgery…”
"Sizzle—"
Chen Bo exhaled a puff of smoke, "You've only known him for a few days and you already believed him and gave him all your money?"
Chen Bozheng's eyes were red, clearly indicating that he was very angry.
Wen Chan had no way to explain her predicament. Of course, she wouldn't believe such a scam, but she couldn't help but believe it herself.
Wen Chan had no idea what was going on. She was sleeping in a hotel when she suddenly found herself transported to 1990, and to such an awkward time.
It has to be said that Wen Chan and the original owner of this body have a rather convoluted connection.
In her past life, she returned to China to hold a funeral for her gambling-addicted father. The father and daughter had not seen each other for many years. If it weren't for her gambling-addicted father's death this time, Wen Chan would not have returned to China.
Although her father was a gambler, he was surprisingly well-liked. Back then, many neighbors came to visit. With so many people, especially the elderly, they inevitably started talking about the past, particularly those influential figures. As they talked, they mentioned Chen Bozheng, the richest man in the world today.
When Wen Chan first heard the name, she thought it was just someone with the same name. It wasn't until the old men swore that it was the same person that she listened to them continue their boasting with some skepticism.
The night was long and she, as a dutiful daughter, had to keep watch.
The old men said that Chen Bozheng was so capable back then, and he even married a great beauty whose name was the same as Wen Chan. It is said that when her father named her, he heard that Wen Chan had died, so he just gave her this name.
Wen Chan's lips twitched; she even had a slight urge to whip the corpse.
The old men continued gossiping, saying how stupid that woman was that she actually fell for a pretty boy while going to Shenzhen with Chen Bozheng, ran off with him and ran off with him, leaving Chen Bozheng in a terrible mess and forced to fight in underground boxing matches to earn back the money.
If she hadn't run off with the money and had stayed at her husband's house, who knows what kind of life she would be living now.
Wen Chan just listened to these things as gossip and didn't think much of them. After keeping watch all night, she went back to the hotel to sleep the next day.
However, fate played a cruel joke on her.
When she opened her eyes again, she had become Chen Bozheng's wife, who wanted to abscond with his money and run off with a gigolo, or more precisely, she wanted the gigolo to take her to Hong Kong for medical treatment.
“I’m sorry, I will try to make up for your loss.” Wen Chan said calmly, “If you call the police and take me away now, you won’t be able to get the 80,000 yuan back. You might as well leave me here, maybe I can help you.”
"Help? You're a sickly person, what help can you possibly offer?"
When Lin Qingfeng returned and heard this, he couldn't help but sneer, "Even if you sell your blood, they won't accept it!"
"Only those who are brainless and incompetent sell their blood; those with brains can just use their brains."
Wen Chan wasn't without temper either. Even though she was in the wrong, she was still furious and immediately retorted.
"You have a brain—" Lin Qingfeng was already furious, and hearing Wen Chan's words made him even more unable to hold back. Just as he was about to say that if he had a brain, he wouldn't have been so easily fooled by a pretty boy, someone knocked on the door outside the courtyard, "Xiao Chen, Xiao Lin..."
"It's Old Song's voice!" The fat man recognized it immediately. Forgetting about washing the dishes, he took them out of the basin with wet hands, his face full of panic.
Chen Bo looked at everyone and said, "Don't panic, I'll speak in a bit."
The doors of these bungalows still use the old-fashioned door bolts.
The two bolts were pulled out, the wooden door was pushed open, and outside stood a drunken Old Song.
Old Song walked along, supported by a thin man beside him. When he saw Chen Bozheng, the man called out, "Brother Zheng."
"Old Song, Gunzi, what brings you here?" Chen Bo's expression was no different from usual.
Old Song let out a foul burp, and as he stepped in, he stumbled.
Gunzi quickly helped him up and advised, "Old Song, let me take you back to the guesthouse. Look how drunk you are."
"No, no rush." Old Song leaned against the door, his eyes glazed over, looking around. He seemed drunk, yet not drunk. His gaze swept over everyone in the room. "Little Chen, I heard something happened here. What happened?"
Chen Bo helped Lao Song up and pulled him to sit down at the table in the yard.
Lin Qingfeng and the others were all on edge.
Although Lao Song came to Shenzhen with Chen Bozheng and his group, he wasn't one of them. Chen Bozheng and his group came to Shenzhen to wholesale a batch of clothing and resell it in Xiushui Street in Beijing. Goods are very popular in Shenzhen now, and they can make more than double the profit by reselling a batch of goods in Xiushui Street.
But they didn't have enough capital, so Boss Song lent them 40,000 yuan as principal, with an interest rate of only three percent.
This can be considered charity work. At the same time, Boss Song also sent Old Song to help them make connections and introduced them to a garment factory.
Otherwise, Chen Bozheng and his team would be unfamiliar with the area and would have had a lot of trouble just finding a garment factory in Shenzhen to sell them clothes.
At the same time, Lao Song was also Song Laoda's eyes and ears, responsible for keeping an eye on them.
After all, that's 40,000 yuan.
Nowadays, the average worker earns only one or two hundred yuan a month, so forty thousand yuan is several years' worth of income for many people.
"What could possibly happen?"
Chen Bozheng acted as if nothing had happened, and even took a kettle to pour water for Lao Song, saying, "Everyone is here, and everything is fine."
Old Song chuckled, "He's perfectly fine, but where's the money?"
The fat man's face twitched, his expression tense, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.
"Money? Money is no problem at all," Chen Bo said. "We even have an appointment with Boss Ye from the garment factory to discuss business tomorrow."
"Really?" Old Song stood up, supporting himself on the table. "So, I don't need to worry about this anymore, and I don't need to go with you tomorrow?"
Old Song was very thin, with small eyes, but when he stared at people drunkenly, it made people unsure how much he actually knew.
"Of course not, you've already taken care of all the arrangements for us." Chen Bo patted Lao Song on the shoulder, took out a few ten-yuan bills from his pocket and stuffed them into Lao Song's hand. "Gun, tomorrow you'll be in charge of keeping our Brother Song company with eating, drinking and having fun. You don't need to worry about anything else."
Old Song stared at the money: "Xiao Chen, what do you mean by this? Are you trying to shut me up?"
Chen Bo narrowed his eyes. Was this old man complaining about the lack of money, or did he actually know something?
The courtyard fell silent, so quiet that only the heavy breathing of the people could be heard.
The fat man's back was soaked with sweat.
If this gets out, we're doomed.
Forty thousand yuan is enough for Boss Song to break all their bones!
Wen Chan said, "Brother Song, is it wrong for my husband to take care of you? This few dozen yuan is for you to eat and have fun, to shut you up. What are you shutting up about? Even Boss Song trusts my husband, so what do you have to worry about? Are you afraid we'll run away with the money?"
Everyone held their breath.
Lin Qingfeng barely managed to break his back teeth.
Chen Bozheng suddenly glanced at her, and Wen Chan quickly exchanged a look with him before stepping forward and hugging his waist. "We're not stupid. Boss Song is helping my husband make money, and this business is a sure thing. Once we get the goods, we can go back to Beijing and make a fortune. Why would we want to cause trouble? But you, asking so many questions, what do you mean by that? Are you trying to pick a fight?"
Chen Bozheng immediately cooperated, his face turning cold as he looked at Lao Song, "Brother Song, we respect you because you're related to Boss Song, and we've been giving you face by paying for your food and drinks these past few days. Why are you coming here for no reason to ask these irrelevant questions? Do you have a problem with me?!"
His face darkened, and the monk immediately clenched his fists, cracking them as he walked toward Old Song.
The monk's nickname was Monk, and he looked just like Lu Zhishen, the Flower Monk from Water Margin, especially his fists, which were as big as a clay pot.
Seeing the fist and sensing the group's hostile intent, Old Song sobered up and immediately said with a forced smile, "It's nothing, it's nothing, I was just joking. It's good that nothing happened, it's good that nothing happened. Stick, it's getting late, let's go back."
Stick let out a cry of surprise, realized what was happening, and quickly helped Old Song up. The two of them walked away, stumbling along.
Once they were out of sight, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Chen Bozheng gave Wen Congyin a meaningful look. If Old Song had insisted on seeing the 80,000 yuan earlier, Chen Bozheng really wouldn't have been able to explain himself.
Thanks.
"You're too kind." Wen Chan touched her head. She was too weak. She had broken out in a cold sweat after standing for a while. Her lips were pale. She looked at Chen Bozheng and said, "What about tomorrow? That garment factory owner, Mr. Ye, is not easy to deal with. I'll go with you if I can."
"What can you do to help?" Although Wen Chan had helped them earlier, this whole mess was ultimately caused by Wen Chan, and Lin Qingfeng was still annoyed with her.
Chen Bo looked at Wen Chan and saw that her face was as white as paper. His eyes darkened and he said, "You sickly girl, stay home and recover."
A sickly person?
Wen Chan was so angry she wanted to bite him. What's wrong with that sickly child?
She's a well-known Miss Wen on Wall Street. In her past life, she worked in private equity and venture capital. Countless companies offered her huge sums of money to be their consultant, but she didn't even glance at them, even with annual salaries in the tens of millions.
I've been helping others for free my whole life, and yet I still get looked down upon.
A note from the author:
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