Don't Let This Fine Time Go to Waste

Zhang Yang chuckled, deeply moved by how there really were no secrets at the company.

He'd only parked his Porsche downstairs for a little while last time, and today the story had already spread this far.

"Don't worry. We'll compete fairly," Zhang Yang said calmly.

"Have you gone crazy? You still want to test your luck and go up against him?" Xiang Youde shook his head helplessly. He wondered if Zhang Yang had lost his mind lately and become too confident.

"You're an outsider. For all you know, your competition could be a local from Magic City. What do you have, what do they have? Tell me, what are you going to compete with?"

"Bei Wei happens to have the day off today. I'll send her a message later to see how she's doing," Zhang Yang muttered to himself.

"You're the biggest simp of all," Xiang Youde said, exasperated.

"Maybe she stayed up late with her boyfriend last night and is still lying in his arms. You're going to message her now? Do you want her boyfriend to laugh at you along with her?"

Xiang Youde asked in anguish, trying to knock some sense into Zhang Yang.

He even thoughtfully dug up a bunch of screenshots of simps' chats, hoping they'd make Zhang Yang see reason.

Like these:

(I can't be bothered to find a picture. Everyone, use your imagination and enjoy.)

"Look, look! These simps are hilarious, so pathetic. You don't want to be like them, do you?" Xiang Youde asked with a long sigh.

Zhang Yang looked up. "I already sent her a message."

"You—you never listen," Xiang Youde said, utterly disappointed.

Zhang Yang checked his messages. Bei Wei was still at the hotel and hadn't checked out.

She'd taken advantage of the bright morning sunshine to snap a bunch of photos, then sent him a selfie.

In the selfie, Bei Wei looked fresh and sweet. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling window behind her, Magic City's skyline stretched to the horizon.

Zhang Yang looked at one photo where she wore a light dress that showed off her slender, fair legs. His thoughts couldn't help wandering.

Had he, Zhang Yang, really broken Bei Wei's seal?

"Zhang, do you like it?" Bei Wei asked him.

"Yeah, it's nice. By the way, does it still hurt?" Zhang Yang messaged back.

"A little, but it's not a problem," Bei Wei said.

"What isn't a problem?" Zhang Yang pressed.

That afternoon, Zhang Yang kept noticing Xiang Youde rolling his eyes at him for no apparent reason.

"Hey, Xiang Youde, do you have a problem with me?" Zhang Yang couldn't help asking.

"I really misjudged you, Zhang Yang. I thought you were the kind of person who could persevere and accomplish great things. I never thought you'd be no different from those simps," Xiang Youde said indignantly.

"Don't focus on the process. Look at the results, okay?" Zhang Yang felt a little exasperated. He'd been about to fire back, but then he thought that Old Xiang might have been through something similar himself, and immediately let it go.

"Look at the results? If you manage to get the result you're talking about, I'll write my name, Xiang Youde, backward," Xiang Youde said angrily.

"Write it backward? Fine." Zhang Yang couldn't be bothered to keep bickering with Old Xiang.

Actions spoke louder than words, but for now, he didn't want to rile Old Xiang up by telling him what was really going on. Let it be!

By evening, a day that hadn't been particularly busy was finally winding down.

It was almost time to get off work.

Zhang Yang checked the time. Seeing that no one else was moving, he clocked out right on the dot.

As it happened, just as he was leaving on time, his boss, Song Mingyang, walked out of his office.

Normally, no employee would choose to leave at that exact moment.

Leaving right on time and running into the boss—wasn't that awkward?

He could've waited a few minutes!

But Zhang Yang was perfectly relaxed. He even nodded casually at Song Mingyang.

In the elevator, Song Mingyang kept smiling, though he was privately puzzled.

"Zhang Yang, you're getting off work... pretty early today, huh?"

"Not early." Zhang Yang blinked. "Don't worry, Mr. Song. I'm not leaving early."

"No, no, I'm not saying you're leaving early. I'm just checking in. It's still early in the evening—got a date tonight?" Song Mingyang asked, still smiling.

"Not at the moment," Zhang Yang said.

"Then you'd better get a move on. We've got so many single girls at this company. First come, first served," Song Mingyang said, sounding as if he were concerned about his employees. The elevator doors opened.

"I'm off. Don't let this fine time go to waste." Song Mingyang gave him a smile that seemed encouraging, then left with an expectant look.

Zhang Yang watched Song Mingyang walk away and muttered to himself.

"Don't let this fine time go to waste? I haven't wasted it, have I?"

In the distance, Song Mingyang started up his burgundy Panamera. As he passed Zhang Yang, he even rolled down the window and waved. He looked pretty cool.

Zhang Yang watched the Panamera drive away in puzzlement, then headed straight for his Bentley Continental GT.

With a roar, the Bentley Continental GT sped off, leaving Song Mingyang far behind in style.

That evening, Zhang Yang stood in the kitchen, leisurely frying cod as he prepared dinner.

While he waited, he took the opportunity to check his phone for part-time job listings.

In a vast city like Magic City, there were countless job seekers and countless employment platforms. He barely had to lift a finger before a massive range of quick, short-term gigs appeared in front of him.

"Male commercial model, monthly salary of fifty to eighty thousand? Not bad! Wait, no, no. Next." Zhang Yang immediately passed on the first listing.

"Seeking male part-time print models. Must be between 180 and 185 centimeters tall, in good shape, and have a great presence. Paid by the day, five hundred to eight hundred per day?" Zhang Yang read the casting call from some fashion magazine and felt a little tempted.

This one might work!

He did have absolutely no experience as a print model.

But... he could certainly give it a try. His current build made him the perfect clothes horse. From the neck down, he was practically flawless. Above the neck... he'd do.

It really was funny how life could change. A month or two ago, if someone had told Zhang Yang that one day he'd want to work as a male print model, he wouldn't have believed it even if they beat him to death.

But today, he'd actually dared to send in his application and was waiting for their reply.

There was nothing shameful about making money!

After applying, Zhang Yang had already worked out the numbers. At the going rate for print models, if things went well and he could do it steadily for a while, completing this part-time task would be a breeze!

Twenty experience points were practically already in the bag!

That evening, while he was eating, Zhang Yang really did receive a reply.

The email read like a generic template. It basically told him when and where to attend a group audition, along with some specific instructions and preparations.

As it happened, the audition was this weekend.

Should he go or not?

Of course he had to go!