An Invitation from Deng Zixin's Father

"Oh, right, Sister, let me pay you the rent for the last month." Chen Zhao suddenly remembered this matter.

Chen Zhao had previously owed the rent for the last month and truly couldn't afford it. Deng Zixin had originally waived it for him, but Chen Zhao always felt it wasn't right to live there for free while owing money. Having earned some money from streaming recently, Chen Zhao felt it was best to pay it back; being debt-free brings peace of mind. A grown man shouldn't take advantage of a woman, right?

"Oh, you've got quite the tone," Deng Zixin said with a disdainful smile. "Fine, once your writing fee comes in, just come find me upstairs."

"I don't need to wait for a writing fee; I have money right now." Chen Zhao took out his phone. "Should I pay you via WeChat or Alipay?"

Deng Zixin looked surprised and sat up straight. "Where would a little brat like you get money? Don't tell me you're giving me your tuition money or something; there's no need for that."

"It's not tuition, it's tips from my livestream. I've been streaming for the past two days and earned quite a bit." Chen Zhao smiled proudly.

Deng Zixin was stunned, then frowned and flared up. "Chen Zhao, can you please wake up! What time is it now? You have the college entrance exam in just a few dozen days! Are you still so confused about how important the college entrance exam is? I don't want this rent, and I'm not short on your little bit of money—my own bank account is almost at eight figures! You need to focus on your studies and stop messing around with that nonsense!"

Deng Zixin spoke at lightning speed, like a machine gun. Chen Zhao tried to interject and explain several times, but he was interrupted every time. Chen Zhao thought to himself that if this woman ever found a husband, the poor guy would be the unluckiest person in eight lifetimes; he would definitely lose every argument! With Deng Zixin's sharp tongue and rapid-fire delivery, who could possibly win an argument against her?

"How are your grades now? Are you confident about getting into college?" Deng Zixin asked, changing the subject.

"Getting into college is a sure thing; I'm currently aiming for Tsinghua University or Peking University," Chen Zhao replied.

"Bullshit! You, aiming for Tsinghua or Peking University?" Deng Zixin's brow furrowed even tighter, and she was very angry. "Young man, stop bragging so much. If you can get into Tsinghua or Peking University, I'll give you this whole building! I'm leaving. You better study hard. If you don't get into college, just you wait! I'll find someone to beat you to death!"

Deng Zixin got up and left, slamming the door hard behind her. Although her attitude was terrible and she wouldn't listen to his explanation, Chen Zhao still felt a warmth in his heart. He knew that this landlady sister was only fierce on the surface and was actually a very kind person. Her anger was also out of a desire for him to study hard and get into college. Once his acceptance letter arrived, he would definitely have to treat Deng Zixin to a meal.

Chen Zhao went online, streamed another round, and announced he was ending the stream to go to sleep. The fans in the chat room wailed, calling Chen Zhao a lazy streamer. Other streamers would broadcast for an entire day or night in one go, but Chen Zhao only played two games each time and then vanished.

The next day's exam was still quite simple. Chen Zhao was confident he would get near full marks on the science comprehensive, though English was a bit shaky. Chen Zhao had been terrible at English since he was a child and couldn't even recognize all the phonetic symbols. He had read a lot of English supplementary materials recently, but it didn't seem to have much effect. Therefore, Chen Zhao estimated his English score would only be around 130, which was trash.

He would have to really push hard on English from now on.

Then came a day of rest. Chen Zhao used the break to stream for the whole day, and the fans were howling with joy. The effect of the long stream was excellent; in one day, Chen Zhao gained sixty thousand followers and received countless gifts, cashing out over two thousand four hundred yuan.

Two thousand four hundred yuan in one day.

Thirty days a month would mean a full seventy-two thousand yuan!

Twelve months a year would mean eight hundred sixty-four thousand yuan!

As his streaming hours accumulated, his fame would continue to rise, and it seemed his dream of an annual salary of one million was no longer just a dream!

Chen Zhao was very excited. As expected, high-IQ and hardworking people are good at making money. Just by relying on streaming, he could live a life of moderate wealth.

In the evening, Deng Zixin came over again, carrying a copy of the Baicheng Times. She opened it to the second-to-last page to show Chen Zhao. In the upper right corner was that piece of classical prose, Exhortation to Learning, with Chen Zhao listed as the author.

"Not bad, young man, a piece of classical prose!" Deng Zixin patted Chen Zhao's shoulder hard. "Come, sign it."

"Huh?" Chen Zhao was stunned.

"Sign it! Right next to your article. I'm keeping this as a collection. If you ever enter the literary world, this signed work could be worth a fortune!" Deng Zixin grabbed the back of Chen Zhao's neck, pulling him to the coffee table like a chick, slapped the newspaper on the table, and shoved a pen into his hand.

"Write it well, don't mess around!" Deng Zixin warned.

Chen Zhao nodded and gave it his all, trying his best to make the characters neat and beautiful. It was only two characters, but he spent a full twenty seconds writing them.

After finishing, Chen Zhao was very satisfied; this was likely the most beautiful his name had ever looked.

"Oh my god, your handwriting is trash! It's a disaster!" Deng Zixin picked up the newspaper to look, her beautiful brows knitting into a frown. "It's limp and ugly. Even if I shoved the pen into the hand of a zoo monkey, it would write better than you!"

Chen Zhao nearly coughed up blood from the frustration.

"It's written quite well, isn't it!" Chen Zhao protested. "If you think my handwriting is trash, why don't you write something that isn't trash and let me see!"

Deng Zixin snatched the pen and started writing on a piece of scratch paper nearby.

Clack, clack, clack!

After a few strokes, she tossed the pen down with a snap.

"Any complaints?" Deng Zixin flicked Chen Zhao's head with her slender fingers and asked disdainfully.

Chen Zhao was dumbfounded, staring at the three characters "Deng Zixin" on the scratch paper. Those three characters were neat, standard, and beautiful to an extreme degree—they looked like they had been printed! It was as if they had come straight from a calligraphy practice book he had bought in elementary school!

"Whoa, didn't you drop out of school? How is your handwriting so good! There's no justice in this world!" Chen Zhao was shocked.

"Do you know who my father is?" Deng Zixin suddenly asked.

"Who?" Chen Zhao looked blank.

"Deng Tiejun, the calligrapher! The traditional Chinese painter! His calligraphy sells for over ten thousand yuan per square foot! Under my old man's tutelage, even if I wrote with my feet, it would look better than yours!" Deng Zixin was full of pride, mixed with disdain for Chen Zhao.

Chen Zhao was shaken. No wonder Deng Zixin was so rich; her father's calligraphy and paintings could sell for ten thousand yuan per square foot. If he wrote for two or three days straight, millions would come in. Buying a building would be a piece of cake, wouldn't it?

"Right, my dad said he wants to meet you." Deng Zixin suddenly changed the subject.

"Meet me?" Chen Zhao was stunned. "Why?"

"Your article piqued his interest. He thinks you're a talent worth molding. After all, my dad is a man of culture; seeing someone who can write good articles, of course he wants to meet them," Deng Zixin said. "If you're willing, I'll take you whenever you have time. Don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open looking like an idiot. If my dad is in a good mood and takes you on as a disciple, you'll be getting a huge bargain! The people who want to be my dad's disciples could line up from the gate of the Forbidden City all the way to the White House!"

"But... I never intended to be a calligrapher or painter..." Chen Zhao scratched his head. "You saw it yourself, my trash handwriting... I don't have that talent."

"My dad will definitely treat you to a meal or something. Going for a free meal is good enough," Deng Zixin said.

"Okay!" Chen Zhao nodded frantically. He should have said it was a free meal earlier!