Tang Yi and Wu Ning were too excited to sleep. They didn’t go home and instead stayed overnight at Qi Lei’s place.
Originally, there was another room in Qi Lei’s house where they could sleep, but the two brothers refused and insisted on squeezing into the same room as Qi Lei.
They laid out a grass mat on the floor, spread two thin mattresses over it, and made do.
They took care of everything themselves without Qi Lei lifting a finger—clearly, this wasn’t their first time doing this.
After turning off the lights, they could faintly hear the sound of a TV from next door. It was Huang Jianxiang commentating on the Brazilian team’s match.
However, without his classic commentary line about the “Great Italian left-back,” Old Huang seemed to lack a certain flair.
Though Tang Yi and Wu Ning loved playing and watching soccer, they had no interest in paying attention tonight.
Staring at the ceiling in the dimly lit room, their four eyes gleamed brightly.
After a long silence, Wu Ning suddenly spoke up, “Shitou, you seem different lately.”
Lying in bed, Qi Lei chuckled to himself, “How so? Handsomer than you?”
Wu Ning, “Impossible. There’s still a gap.”
Then, turning serious, “Hard to describe. It’s just that before, you were like a noob with only a Level 9 Wild Ball Fist, trying to take on ten masters without even learning the Nine Yang Divine Skill.”
“But ever since the high school entrance exams, you’ve changed. It’s like you’ve got a Level 10 Wild Ball Fist now, one-shotting everyone!?”
“Oh, damn!” Qi Lei exclaimed, amused by the ridiculously nerdy analogy.
The Wild Ball Fist was the protagonist’s starting skill in the 1996 single-player game “The Legend of the Heroes,” developed by He Luo Studio.
It was the weakest skill at the start—the trashiest of the trash.
But the game had an interesting mechanic: if you grinded hard enough to level the Wild Ball Fist to Level 10, it would transform from the weakest to the strongest, dealing explosive damage. Together with the Nine Yang Divine Skill, they were considered the most powerful single-target and area-of-effect skills in the game.
So, Level 9 Wild Ball Fist represented weakness, while Level 10 meant invincibility.
Sighing inwardly, Qi Lei said, “It’s not as mystical as you make it sound. I just feel…”
“Feel what?”
Tang Yi also turned to look at him, waiting for Qi Lei’s answer. He expected it to be something profound.
Qi Lei paused and took a deep breath.
“I feel… I never took anything seriously before, but now I want to do everything well!”
“Go to hell!”
The two brothers rolled their eyes. Did he have to be so serious?
Tang Xiaoyi turned over, “But we’re truly invincible, bro! Only today did we realize that making money isn’t as scary as Old Tang makes it out to be. It’s actually pretty easy!”
Wu Ning nodded, “I’m strong! I can take on ten!”
Tang Yi sat up directly, “How about we pay the extra fees ourselves? That would scare Old Tang to death!”
Wu Xiaojian was stunned, “Pay it ourselves? That would… be way too badass!”
“Right?” Tang Yi grinned slyly, “Once the results come out, my Old Tang and your Old Wu will definitely put on a fake serious act, lecturing us about how embarrassing it is to not study hard, calling us good-for-nothings.”
“At that moment, I’ll slap the extra fee money on the table and say, ‘I just don’t want to study! I like it this way!'”
Unable to resist, Qi Lei chimed in, “Just for fun.”
“Exactly!” Tang Yi didn’t get the reference, but it felt absolutely right. “We’ve got money! It’s just fun! So what?”
In the dimly lit room where only silhouettes were visible, Qi Lei revealed two rows of white teeth.
Tang Xiaoyi and Wu Xiaojian didn’t spend their earnings on Walkmans or recklessly splurge wads of cash. Instead, they just wanted to mischievously defy their parents. For two sixteen-year-old boys, having such mature values was truly rare.
Of course, this had a lot to do with their privileged family backgrounds.
Staying grounded in the face of financial temptation was something many adults couldn’t even manage.
Qi Lei, however, chuckled inwardly, unconvinced by the notion that making money was easy. Life was never a game—how could it be so effortless?
Even with Qi Lei’s experience as someone who’d been through it all, the challenges ahead were bound to be plentiful.
Just wait and see—don’t assume a smooth start means everything will go well. The real headaches are yet to come!
The next day, Qi Lei woke up first. When he went out to wash up, his mother was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
The Qi family lived in an old house where the plumbing had been installed later, so the bathroom only had a squat toilet and a shower—a tiny space.
Washing up was done in the boiler room or the kitchen, a common setup in northern homes.
Guo Lihua noticed he was up unusually early and reminded him, “Make sure you come back for meals on time. We haven’t seen much of you three for days.”
Come to think of it, since the high school entrance exams ended, the three boys hadn’t eaten dinner at home once.
Qi Lei agreed but knew it was unlikely.
They had to set up for the Night Market in the evening, so there wouldn’t be time to eat at home.
After breakfast, Guo Lihua and Qi Guojun left for work, leaving the three boys home alone.
Normally, they’d head straight to the arcade or computer room. But now, they didn’t feel like going anywhere.
Tang Yi took out the money they’d earned the night before and counted it again, confirming it wasn’t a dream, then hugged his guitar and went back to sleep.
Wu Ning just sat there in a daze. Both boys were exhausted from the past couple of days and needed time to recover.
They chatted idly about this and that.
Wu Ning suddenly brought up the short-haired girl who’d been in the same exam hall as Qi Lei. Though he’d only caught a glimpse of her, there was an indescribable aura about her—something captivating.
Wu Xiaojian, like a boy experiencing his first crush, lamented not having mustered the courage to ask for her phone number.
He then teased Qi Lei for being a coward, sitting so close to her yet making no moves—utterly embarrassing the trio.
Tang Yi, naturally curious, pressed for details about her appearance and mannerisms, eventually conjuring an image of a peerless fairy, a modern-day Little Dragon Girl, and lost himself in admiration.
Of course, teasing Qi Lei was an unavoidable part of the conversation.
Qi Lei just smiled and took it all in.
These days, he felt almost schizophrenic—sometimes acting like a hot-blooded, impulsive teenager his age, other times switching back to adult mode, accustomed to listening without explaining.
He only retorted inwardly, “That girl isn’t as perfect as you imagine. She’s tough to handle!”
Though their acquaintance had been brief in the exam hall, and Xu Qian’s carefree demeanor gave the illusion of being easy to get along with, Qi Lei could see right through it. Beneath her bright, cheerful gaze lay a depth that didn’t belong to someone her age.
In her interactions with Qi Lei, there was the excitement of feeling like old friends, but also a subtle distance—lacking a touch of sincerity, unlike what you’d expect between teenagers.
In the past, Qi Lei would’ve definitely exchanged contact info. Not necessarily to pursue anything, but at least not to let the opportunity slip by.
But after being reborn, I thought it better to let it be—perhaps the current situation is for the best. From then on, we would have no further intersections, and occasional memories would be filled with warmth.
This kind of thing is trendy nowadays—it’s called the beauty of imperfection.
Finally making it past 4 p.m., they set up their stall as usual.
The two still wore baseball caps and large sunglasses, though without their jackets.
Well, making money was one thing, and the excitement was real, but acting as naturally as Qi Lei did still felt somewhat challenging for them.
They ended up in the same spot as yesterday, coincidentally next to the same neighbor.
Unlike the day before, however, Auntie had brought backup.
Auntie and her son arrived at the Night Market almost at the same time as Qi Lei, each setting up their stall.
The day before, Qi Lei’s sock stall had significantly impacted Auntie’s business, so logically, she should have moved elsewhere today.
But Auntie valued the streetlight here, which kept the area bright after dark, and was reluctant to relocate.
Besides, she hadn’t figured it out yet—how exactly were those three kids making money?
While chatting with the trio, she casually asked, “How much did you three earn last night?”
At this, Tang Xiaoyi couldn’t resist showing off, “Quite a bit, two—”
Before he could finish, Wu Ning pulled him back.
He chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, quite a bit—we lost two yuan.”
“Lost money?” Auntie was skeptical. She thought to herself, that bespectacled one doesn’t look trustworthy at all!
She wasn’t foolish, nor did she believe those three troublemakers were idiots.
They definitely wouldn’t engage in a losing venture; there must be some trick she hadn’t grasped.
This was the main reason Auntie refused to move—she needed to observe for a few more days.
Moreover, fearing she might miss something on her own, she dragged her proud, prized son along for support.
Though Song Dazhi was extremely unwilling, he had no choice but to comply under his mother’s pressure.
This, in fact, was one of the reasons Qi Lei had mentioned that “business isn’t so easy.”
No matter the era, there’s no shortage of clever people. Even if others don’t come up with your marketing tactics themselves, they can always learn from you—especially in China, where imitation skills are almost supernatural.
Last night, their stall had been the talk of the vicinity; without a doubt, many eyes were watching them now!
It was predictable that Auntie might be the first, but she certainly wouldn’t be the last.
If they couldn’t figure it out in one day, they’d try two; if not in two, then three. Sooner or later, they’d replicate all your tricks.
That would be the real test—and the most difficult time.
At the moment, it wasn’t dark yet, and the Night Market was still sparse.
After setting up their stall, the three guys went to a nearby cold noodle stand, ordered three large bowls, and sat in front of their stall to eat dinner.
As he ate, Qi Lei watched the sneaky Auntie and her son, who looked deeply resentful and unwilling to be associated with his mother.
After a while, he found it uninteresting—mainly because Song Dazhi was such an honest kid. His mother had told him to keep an eye on Qi Lei, and he didn’t even blink, staring fixedly.
It wasn’t just him, either; many pairs of eyes around the stall were subtly drifting their way.
But Qi Lei didn’t mind much—let them stare.
The intricacies here weren’t something one could grasp in a day or two. And even those who understood might not have the nerve to imitate them.
More importantly, learning to imitate and master it wasn’t that simple—it required time.
This meant that before others started following Qi Lei’s path, he still had a period to rake in substantial profits.
By six o’clock, the Night Market was bustling with noise and excitement again. The three brothers had no time to dwell on other matters, fully immersed in their busy work.
Song Dazhi stared intently, while his mother kept asking beside him, “Watch carefully, see if they have any tricks!”
Song Dazhi felt somewhat indignant—a top student from No. 2 High School like him, counting socks here? What a waste of talent!
He confidently replied, “I think I’ve got the hang of it.”
Well, he and his aunt weren’t on the same page.
His aunt wanted him to observe their tricks, but he had finally confirmed that they were indeed Tang Yi and Wu Ning from No. 2 High School—his friend hadn’t been mistaken yesterday!
…