Sun Xingyan added that he had originally planned to go home during this period, but he stayed because of the donation, and might return at the end of the year or the beginning of next year.
Seeing this, Xia Baozhu guessed that Sun Xingyan had donated a large portion of the money he earned over there, otherwise he wouldn't have delayed his return.
She could imagine Sun Xingyan both feeling sorry for him and complaining while simultaneously donating money.
If you were to invest this million, the simplest and safest way would be to buy five or six properties that appreciate the most. You wouldn't have to do anything, and in twenty years you would have assets worth more than ten small fortunes.
Or you can buy land and build houses in major cities, wait for demolition and relocation, and still have a dozen or so small goals.
Xia Baozhu put away the letter with a smile, deciding not to tell Sun Xingyan about these matters.
It's fine to wait until he has money; after all, it'll be a while before the houses become ridiculously expensive.
Opening the other people's letters, they were all love letters written to Xia Baozhu. Some were subtle, some were bold, some were cheesy, and some were crazy.
The crazy one actually said that her father had already betrothed her to him and that she should prepare her dowry and wait to marry him.
Xia Baozhu looked at the name on it: Wang Baicai.
She tore the letters to shreds and threw them in the trash.
After washing her hands again, Xia Baozhu read through the readers' letters and selected two to reply to.
The summer evening breeze in mid-August was quite cool. People played chess and cards by the roadside under the lamplight. Women chatted together, and children ran out to play everywhere.
Compared to the disaster area, this place is simply paradise.
Xia Baozhu felt the cool breeze as she slowly walked back. Occasionally, she would stop and chat with acquaintances who greeted her along the way.
"When did the fried chicken shop owner come back?" The women who had gathered at the alley entrance whispered as they watched Xia Baozhu's retreating figure.
"He came back at noon today, and I happened to run into him. He was carrying a bag."
"I heard she went to be a model."
"Oh my god, she became a model?! That's so embarrassing. The models on my calendar are all dressed so revealingly. I hope she doesn't dress like that too. There are no decent people among models."
"That's right. Look at those mannequins at the book stalls, I can't even look at them. But those hooligans and bachelors like to go over and take a look."
"Isn't her shop doing pretty well? She also has so many stalls and carts, her business is booming. Why would she want to become a model?"
"She's good-looking; modeling makes her money way faster than selling fried chicken. Look at her, she has a great waist and a great face; men can't take their eyes off her."
How much do models earn?
"I heard that you get several hundred dollars for taking a single photo."
"That much? It's definitely more profitable than selling fried chicken."
"If I had her figure and face, I would become a model too."
"Come on, do you think being a model is that easy? I heard you also have to drink, sing, and dance with customers."
"What?! Why do models have to do these things?"
"This is a competitive job selection process. Models earn a lot of money, but someone has to pay for it. The person who pays has to make the model accompany them for drinks, and if she doesn't, she won't get the job. So, do you go or not?"
"You're right, so she does this too?"
"I have no idea. Maybe they're just lucky and only have to take pictures without doing anything else," the woman said, curling her lip with a sarcastic look.
"I heard that Aunt Wang's third son likes her and goes to her shop every day. Is that true?"
"Really, I'm even planning to ask someone to arrange a marriage for me."
"Huh? Don't they know she's divorced?"
"How could I not know? But that doesn't stop the third brother from liking her. He's been introduced to five or six young women, but he hasn't taken a liking to any of them."
"What a fool. His parents should really discipline him. Being good-looking won't put food on the table."
"Why can't it be eaten? She's eating just fine. She can earn money as a model, and young people line up for her shop every day. She spends all the money she works hard to earn in a month on her shop. Who can earn as much money as her?"
The veiled criticism, though seemingly complimentary, pleased several people.
As Xia Baozhu walked away, she was unaware that the women who had greeted her warmly were gossiping about her behind her back, labeling her modeling career as pornographic.
They even gave her the title of a seductive vixen.
For some, beauty is also a sin, a sin that incites envy.
Xia Baozhu held a letter that smelled of floral perfume in her hand, which was handed to her by a seven or eight-year-old boy.
Without even looking, Xia Baozhu knew this was probably another love letter.
After she left, a man in his early twenties emerged from behind a willow tree. He had a fair complexion and looked quiet and refined.
He nervously called to the little boy, "Tiger, did you give her the letter?"
"It was given."
Did she ask you any questions?
"No."
The little boy's words brought a look of disappointment to the fair-skinned man's face.
He walked in the direction of Xia Baozhu's house.
"Brother, don't go. There's a guy with a stick guarding her door. He's chased everyone away." The little boy followed behind, trying to persuade him.
“I know, I won’t go.”
When Xia Baozhu was walking home, she saw a man standing against the wall at the entrance of the alley. The man smiled at her, a somewhat obsequious smile. Xia Baozhu ignored him and continued walking home.
The man touched his nose and continued grinning foolishly.
"Brother, you see, Stick Bro is still there."
"I saw it," the man said weakly.
Across the street, they were talking in hushed tones to the two people, one big and one small, standing at the entrance of the alley.
"Big sister has gone home, let's go home too."
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