24
Black Pot
Jiang Xiaohong sent over a plate of dumplings, so naturally, lunch was dumplings.
Jiang Qi watched Huang Fugui play games all morning—trying everything from marksman, mage, warrior, assassin to support—and not a single hero suited him. Huang Fugui stubbornly remained at Stubborn Bronze rank all morning before finally concluding that this damn game wasn’t for him. He put down his phone and went to help Jiang Qi boil the dumplings.
After the dumplings were cooked, Jiang Qi and Huang Fugui each carried a plate—one with garlic filling, one with leek filling—upstairs to eat with Old John.
Later, after finishing the dumplings, Huang Fugui would need to pack and move his things upstairs. He had already chosen his room—the master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, a Sunny King Room. When Jiang Qi went to the store in the afternoon, he would get a key made for him, and Huang Fugui would have a proper place to live.
When Jiang Qi and Huang Fugui went upstairs, Old John was in the study reading a Murder Mystery Game script. He read scripts just like he read books—taking notes that were incomprehensible to humans.
It was one thing for Jiang Qi not to understand the formulas and rough sketches Old John wrote while reading books, but even the escape room structure diagrams and notes he took while reading scripts were largely incomprehensible to Jiang Qi.
It wasn’t that Jiang Qi was uneducated—it was mainly because Old John’s thinking was too scattered.
The notes read: Person, rain, door, traces, and a piece of abstract art full of postmodern vibes—who could understand that?
“Old John, time to eat,” Jiang Qi said, placing the dumplings on the dining table.
Old John slowly emerged from his room and went to the kitchen to fetch bowls and chopsticks.
Incidentally, these bowls and chopsticks were brought from Jiang Qi’s home—back when they were short on money and had to save every penny.
But times had changed. One should view others in a new light after three days apart. Not to mention Jiang Qi had just come into some unexpected wealth, the store’s revenue these past few days alone was enough to keep him from being strapped for cash.
To be honest, the Murder Mystery Game Store was the most profitable shop Jiang Qi had ever taken over, though this profitability was built on two excellent employees who worked without salaries.
The store’s total revenue these past few days was 3,026, with another 2,000+ coming in tomorrow. Jiang Qi calculated yesterday that keeping a reserve of 3,000 in the store’s account would be sufficient.
There was no rent to pay for the next few months, and utility bills weren’t an immediate concern. Liu Lan’s base salary was only 1,000, and with commissions, her monthly pay would max out at 3,000. Moreover, if Liu Lan’s monthly salary reached 3,000, it would indirectly indicate that Jiang Qi was making good money.
However Jiang Qi calculated it, he felt the funds were ample.
“Old John, how much longer do you need to finish reading that script?” Jiang Qi asked.
Old John was poking at the dumplings with his chopsticks, eating them one by one without dipping them in vinegar.
“About three more hours.”
That was faster than Jiang Qi had expected—he thought it would take until evening at the latest.
“Perfect. After you finish, let’s go buy a phone and get a data plan for your SIM card. That blue-screen phone of yours can only make calls and can’t access the internet. We’ll buy a smartphone from a secondhand store, install WeChat, and then create a work group where we can chat.”
Old John showed no particular reaction, merely nodding before continuing to eat his dumplings.