Idle Ordinary

Chapter 28: Idle Days

Now that he had money, he decided to splurge a little.

Jiang Hao pointed at the drink menu. "A pitcher of beer, one bottle of Bordeaux Red, one bottle of Chivas, and one of each of these cocktails."

The bartender's eyes went wide. "How many people are you drinking with?"

"Just me."

"Buddy, you can't finish all this alone." The bartender gave him a friendly warning.

"It's fine, just bring it out. Thanks for the concern."

"Also, you really shouldn't mix these kinds of drinks," the bartender added.

"Afraid I'll get drunk?" Jiang Hao said with a smile. This bartender actually cared about his customers.

"I just think mixing them like that would waste the liquor."

Jiang Hao paused, then chuckled. "Why be so particular about life?"

When all the drinks were set on the table, people around couldn't help but glance at Jiang Hao. There was no way this guy could finish all that by himself—and mixing them on top of that? He'd be dead drunk.

Soft music played in the bar. Jiang Hao slowly drank glass after glass—sharp, mellow, rich and lingering flavors flowing through him, warming his stomach, yet never going to his head.

It felt good. He liked this feeling.

The bartender kept an eye on Jiang Hao, noticing he wasn't drinking fast, but he never stopped. Empty bottles and glasses piled up in front of him, far more than any other customer.

Yet his face remained calm, with no sign of drunkenness, and his eyes were clear.

The bartender suddenly found this customer intriguing. He walked over and said, "You've got quite the tolerance."

Jiang Hao gave a faint smile and set down his glass. "Not getting drunk isn't necessarily good news for me. Making myself drunk is too hard."

The bartender laughed heartily. "True—at least it costs you more than others. I'm Zhou Di, the owner of this Qing Bar. Drop by anytime, and I'll give you a discount."

"Jiang Hao."

Jiang Hao extended his hand, and they shook, officially acquainted.

"By the way, you didn't say how much of a discount."

"Ten percent off."

Jiang Hao curled his lip dismissively. "Just ten percent? The prices here are double what the supermarket charges, let alone your wholesale cost."

"Atmosphere—we sell atmosphere," Zhou Di said with a grin.

Listening to the music and chatting, Jiang Hao drank over a thousand yuan worth of liquor—beer, red, white, blue, green, all mixed in his stomach—without a hint of intoxication.

Still, it helped. His mood had eased considerably.

Waving goodbye to Boss Zhou, Jiang Hao didn't take a cab. He walked home instead. The streets were bustling—couples strolling hand in hand, girlfriends arm in arm shopping, families of three out for a walk, and passersby hurrying home.

Everyone had their own life.

Jiang Hao suddenly felt that every person was like an atom, moving along different orbits. Some collided, sparking fire, but most ran parallel—living in the same space yet never intersecting.

Like the people on this street. With him, it was just a fleeting encounter.

He and Jiu'er had already shared no small fate. Though she was gone, she remained in his mind, part of his experience.

After all, wasn't life just a collection of experiences? Experiencing spring, summer, autumn, winter; flowers blooming and falling; the familiar and the strange; those who came close and those who drifted away.

Prosperity and sorrow all become the past. Time flies like a white colt passing a crack—who is whose grand design?

How cheesy.

Go home.

Shower.

Sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning—5:30, the sky just lightening. Jiang Hao decided to work out. Over the past two months, he'd built the habit. He changed into running clothes and shoes, grabbed his phone and earphones, and headed out.

It was October, the morning air cool and pleasant.

He ran two blocks to the riverside park, where plenty of people were already exercising. Jiang Hao didn't stop, continuing his run. He circled the park once and then headed back home—about five kilometers total, just right.

In the morning, he couldn't help glancing at the young women working out. Of course, they glanced at him too—a handsome guy was bound to catch their attention.

He grabbed breakfast at a shop near his neighborhood, eating while thinking things over.

The Red Sorghum mission was done, but the new one hadn't appeared yet. Was he just supposed to wait? Last time, between the first and second missions, there had been about half a month.

For the first mission, he'd lucked out and gotten a watch. For the second, a skill. Neither was clearly better or worse—the system manual explained that items couldn't be taken into mission worlds, but skills could be used there.

In theory, skills were better, usable in both the real world and mission worlds. Jiang Hao had been excited about that at first, but after all that hard work, he'd gotten a "good-for-nothing" skill—well, "Thousand Cups Not Drunk."

That thing was pretty useless.

It made Jiang Hao think that item rewards weren't necessarily bad—they could be very useful in the real world too.

Of course, it all depended on how much the aliens wanted to screw him over.

Also, back when he was preparing for the Red Sorghum world, he'd learned Free Combat and shooting. Those had been a big help in the movie world, but they'd also cost a lot. After sending money to his parents, he had 230,000 yuan left—already a third spent.

That sounds like a lot, but money really doesn't go far. Just the monthly rent alone is over three thousand, not to mention everyday expenses.

If the next mission gave another crappy skill reward, would he just sit around and burn through his savings? Maybe he should find a job for now.

But what could he even do?

He pulled out his phone to check the time—8:30. He decided to head straight to the fitness center to shower; they had shower rooms there.

Oubao Lai was considered the best fitness center in Binhai, with a massive scale. The first floor had several halls for fitness and boxing training, the second floor offered body shaping, slimming, and yoga, and the third floor was for leisure.

He'd bought a three-month card before, with just over half a month left. Waste not, want not—he decided to go train, especially focusing on upper body strength.

He showered first, changed clothes, and started working out on the equipment at the fitness center. After months of intensive training, Jiang Hao's physique had changed drastically. He didn't have exaggerated muscles, but he was well-defined—a board-like chest and six-pack abs, the kind of youthful, fit look.

With that face and height, he could outshine any celebrity pretty boy. But Jiang Hao didn't come off as soft; instead, he carried a steady, composed air.

"Huff, huff, huff~"

After two sets of chest presses, Jiang Hao was about to switch exercises when a man walked over. It was Cheng Bo, the boxing coach.

"Jiang Hao, you're early." Cheng Bo sat down nearby and started doing stretching exercises.

"Bro Bo, you're early too," Jiang Hao replied.

"Still haven't found a job?" Cheng Bo knew a bit about Jiang Hao's situation. Jiang Hao had been training here for two months, and Cheng Bo had coached him before.

"Yeah, not yet. Nothing suitable," Jiang Hao said.