The Big Shot

You should live your life as you always had. No matter how much money you had, you should still stick to your original intentions. After the inexplicable panic passed, Zhang Hao finally steadied himself. He knew very well that once he became restless, there would be no going back to a peaceful life.

Zhang Hao temporarily put aside the matter of the enormous sum in his account and began puzzling over the pile of electronic equipment in the basement. He couldn't figure out what Mifeng wanted.

That day, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he asked, "Mifeng, can you tell me... what all this equipment in the basement is?"

Even if I told you... you still wouldn't understand!

That line was so infuriating that Zhang Hao was speechless. It was true he didn't understand, but if Mifeng told him what the equipment was for, he might at least get some idea.

Zhang Hao smiled wryly. "Do you have to be so discouraging?"

You'll get used to it.

Zhang Hao rubbed his nose. "Fine. You're the big shot, so you call the shots!"

Big shot? Hey, that's a good name. From now on, call me Big Shot.

Zhang Hao said, "Why'd you change your name just like that? You're way too irresponsible!"

I call the shots! From now on, call me Big Shot!

"Big Shot!"

Zhang Hao had no qualms about calling him Big Shot. He genuinely thought the guy was a big shot: knowledgeable, great at making money, and, most importantly, capable of earning Zhang Hao's respect. Zhang Hao had never really respected anyone in his life, but after seeing what Mifeng could do, he truly admired him. He couldn't imagine anyone more capable.

As for the pile of makeshift contraptions in the basement, Zhang Hao chose to ignore them. He really had no idea what Mifeng was doing. Anyway, the money belonged to him, so Mifeng could do whatever he wanted. Aside from a little curiosity, Zhang Hao didn't care about the rest.

Autumn soon arrived. Dead leaves drifted past the window, reminding Zhang Hao that four months had passed since he'd struck it rich. During that time, aside from watching the balance in his account continue to soar, he'd seen Mifeng begin another round of large-scale purchases. Packages and wooden crates arrived every day, and Zhang Hao dutifully carried them down to the basement.

Day after day, following Mifeng's instructions, Zhang Hao worked like an assembly-line worker, constantly putting things together. He couldn't be bothered to ask questions. If Mifeng wanted it assembled, then he'd assemble it. But the things he'd been putting together over the past few days were rather strange.

Zhang Hao stared at the assembled machine. It looked like a giant ant, or maybe a huge spider—something bizarre, with eight legs and three spheres. Its two front legs looked like mechanical arms, and a thick power cable connected it to an outlet. It seemed to be charging.

"What is this? A robot?" Zhang Hao asked curiously as the giant-ant-like machine crawled slowly across the floor and stopped.

You don't understand. From now on, you don't need to come down to the basement. When something gets delivered, just open the package and put it at the landing on the stairs.

Zhang Hao's heart skipped a beat. He immediately realized that the giant ant he'd just assembled must be some kind of robot. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

Since he couldn't stop it, he might as well ignore it.

"Fine. That'll save me some trouble. Big Shot, I'm going back to live at my place for a while."

Do as you like. I'll let you know if I need you to come over. Don't go far away; stay in Ning City. There are still some things I'll need you to do.

Zhang Hao sighed. He instinctively felt something was wrong, but since he couldn't interfere, he figured he might as well keep his distance for now.

After agreeing, Zhang Hao packed up a laptop and strolled home.

He climbed up to the seventh floor and returned to his old, shabby apartment. It had been months, and dust had accumulated everywhere. Zhang Hao had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, so he couldn't stand it. He spent over an hour cleaning the place. Then, all of a sudden, he felt an intense sense of frustration. After living in a big villa for months, returning to this old residential block felt completely different.

The apartment that had once seemed quite comfortable now looked shabbier by the minute. He could hardly bear to live there anymore.

As expected, it was easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury back to frugality. It was the same for everyone. Once you got used to the good life, ordinary days became difficult.

Fortunately, Zhang Hao had known hardship as a child, so after cleaning up, he gradually got used to the place again.

He turned on the computer and said, "I'm home!" He'd gotten used to talking to the computer. Over the past few months, he hadn't gone out at all because he could chat from time to time through the computer. Along with all the unpacking and assembling, he hadn't felt lonely. It was no wonder—he was exhausted every day, and once night came, he'd collapse into bed and sleep like a log. He had no time to let his mind wander.

A sudden, urgent knocking sounded at the door.

Zhang Hao wondered who it could be. This was an old neighborhood with no property management, and aside from a handful of people who knew he lived here, hardly anyone ever came by.

He opened the door and exclaimed in surprise, "Hu Gang, what are you doing here?"

"Holy crap, you're still alive! You don't answer your phone or reply on WeChat. Have you turned into a hermit or something? I've come here twice already, and today makes three. If I can't find you this time, should I call the police, or should I call the police?"

"Hu Gang, sorry. I've had some things going on lately, and I haven't been staying here. I just got home. Come in and let's talk."

"Things going on? What kind of things? Raising a litter of mice or something?"

He spoke as he walked into the living room. He was one of Zhang Hao's drinking buddies, and one of his agents, so to speak. This kind of agent had nothing to do with the entertainment industry. Put simply, they were middlemen: they took jobs and passed them on to someone else, earning a little off the top.

Hu Gang came in fuming, then noticed the floor, which had just been cleaned. There were still a few damp spots, and a faint musty smell. It was clear Zhang Hao hadn't been lying—he really had just gotten home.

"Where've you been?" Hu Gang plopped down on a wooden chair, making it creak loudly under his weight.

Zhang Hao glanced at him. "Hu Gang, you should lose some weight!"

"Lose weight, my ass!" He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out, and stuck it between his lips before casually lighting it. He knew Zhang Hao wouldn't smoke someone else's cigarettes and only smoked his own Zhongnanhai.

Zhang Hao hadn't switched brands. He still smoked Zhongnanhai. He put a cigarette between his lips, and Hu Gang hurriedly lit it for him.

"I got you two decent design jobs over the past few months. You know what? I couldn't find you, and it put me in a hell of a bind... Both jobs paid pretty well, but you missed out."

Hu Gang was surprised to see that Zhang Hao didn't look the least bit regretful. That meant he didn't care at all. Hu Gang had originally wanted to rile him up, but now he didn't know what to say.

Zhang Hao humored him. "Yeah, what a shame. What a shame..." His face showed no sign of regret.

Hu Gang fixed his small eyes on Zhang Hao. "Wait a minute. You went off and made a fortune, didn't you? You've got that 'I'm not short on money' look all over your face!"

Holy crap!

Hu Gang startled Zhang Hao. Then he realized the guy had just been throwing out a random guess—and had actually hit the mark. Of course, Zhang Hao wasn't a pushover; he was quick-witted. He grinned and said, "Holy crap, you figured it out? Of course I went off and made a fortune! I was never poor to begin with. What's so surprising about me making a little money?"