Heaven-sent benefactors

Benefactors...

Wang Xiaoliang mulled over the word, his mind a muddle.

The words in the Book of Fate were profoundly mysterious, yet seemed to speak straight to the heart.

The tenth art of fate-changing: parents are benefactors bestowed by heaven.

The very first line puzzled him. Benefactors bestowed by heaven? Most parents naturally gave their children everything they had, but the news was full of parents who treated their children like enemies. Some fathers even abused their own daughters. Did they count as benefactors too?

Yet benefactors do not remain fixed for a lifetime, but flow ceaselessly like clouds and water.

So that was it.

Understanding dawned on Wang Xiaoliang. Benefactors were not unchanging. They could come, and they could leave. Parents gave their children life, the greatest kindness in the world, making them the first and most fundamental benefactors. If they later treated their children poorly, that beneficent quality would dissipate, and they would no longer be benefactors.

The Book of Fate really was no collection of rigid dogma.

He continued reading.

Discern the beneficence around you with clear eyes and receive its auspicious goodwill, and you shall grasp the key to opportunity.

This line explained the method. He had to spot the benefactors around him, feel their goodwill with his heart, and embrace the blessings they brought. That was the key to seizing opportunities.

But who were my benefactors?

Wang Xiaoliang began taking stock.

His parents had given him life, raised him, cared for him, and done their best to meet his needs. Without question, they counted.

Who else?

The people I could interact with...

Song Yi. The vice principal always looked stern, but he had offered guidance at a crucial moment and stepped in to protect Li Jun. He definitely counted.

There was also the wholesale shop owner. A single remark from him had pinpointed the key to running a business. He definitely counted too.

Zhou Qiang. That big shot had never forgotten his roots. He had given Wang Xiaoliang a few hundred yuan in steady extra income each month, and as a successful entrepreneur, he had shown him why he should not abandon his existing business lightly. He absolutely counted.

And Liu Xinyu. When Wang Xiaoliang had no job lined up and felt utterly lost, Liu Xinyu had extended an offer without hesitation. He absolutely counted too.

As for Wei Zijin...

The Book of Fate said that spouses who entrusted each other with their lives were benefactors to one another.

She was not his wife yet.

She probably didn't count yet, did she?!

Wang Xiaoliang shook his head in self-mockery. How could she possibly count? He had better shake those unrealistic fantasies out of his head.

Then how should I "receive their auspicious goodwill"?

He pondered those words again and again. Receiving auspicious goodwill. Put plainly, didn't that just mean treating them well? When someone helped him, he had to remember it and repay them through his actions. Wasn't that the simplest truth of all?

Only then might that goodwill remain with him longer.

Once he understood this, Wang Xiaoliang felt he had a clear course of action.

Then I'll start with my parents.

He picked up his phone. His finger hovered over his contacts for a long time before finally settling on "Dad."

For the first time ever, he took the initiative and called his father.

Ever since childhood, he had been a little afraid of that unsmiling man. In adolescence, he had grown intensely irritated by his father's condescending lectures. After starting college, he had even privately resented his father's mediocrity, believing that his incompetence was why the family had always struggled financially. His father could do nothing to help him find a job, either.

The phone rang a few times before the call connected.

"Hello?" His father's voice was as steady as ever, betraying no surprise.

"Dad, it's me." Wang Xiaoliang gripped his phone, his palm growing sweaty.

"Mm. What is it?"

"Dad, I... I've decided to stay in Jiangcheng after graduation. I won't come home for now." Wang Xiaoliang mustered his courage and spoke quickly. "I want to try making a go of things here, see what I'm really capable of. If... if it really doesn't work out, I'll come home."

He had to leave himself some room.

He was already braced for a lecture, or even an argument.

Instead, after a few seconds of silence, he heard words he had never expected.

"Fine."

Just one word.

Wang Xiaoliang froze.

"Your mother and I respect your choice." His father's voice was even. "You've grown up and have ideas of your own. That's a good thing."

"I..." Wang Xiaoliang felt his throat tighten. He could not get another word out.

"Here's what we'll do. We'll send you living expenses for another year, the same amount each month as before. For that year, you won't have to worry about food or housing. Just focus on what you want to do."

"Dad, you don't need to. I can..."

"Let me finish." His father cut him off. "After that year, you'll be on your own. Your mother and I sheltered you too much before. We focused on making you study and forgot to teach you how to live. That was our mistake."

Dad was actually... reflecting on his own mistakes?

"Honestly, I'm glad you've chosen to strike out on your own," his father continued. "You've made the right choice. Young people should go out, hit a few walls, and endure some hardship. Go ahead and give it your all. Don't worry about home."

"Home will always be your fallback. Whenever you can't manage out there anymore, you can come back. Your mother and I can still afford to support you."

Those last few sentences struck Wang Xiaoliang's heart like heavy hammer blows, one after another.

He could hold back no longer. Tears spilled without warning, sliding silently down his cheeks.

He covered his mouth to keep himself from sobbing aloud.

The father he had always thought mediocre and stubborn was, in fact, so wise and thoughtful. It was not that he did not understand. He simply loved his son too much, so much that he could be clumsy about it.

"I understand, Dad." It took all his strength to keep his voice from trembling too much.

"Mm. I'll have your mother send you the money tomorrow. Take care of yourself."

The call ended.

Wang Xiaoliang could no longer keep himself together. He buried his face in his pillow, his shoulders shaking violently.

He had always had somewhere to fall back on. Parents were benefactors bestowed by heaven.

He could charge ahead without worrying about what lay behind him.

The next day, Wang Xiaoliang received a two-thousand-yuan transfer from his mother on WeChat.

Along with her endless, attentive reminders.

He did not put on a show of refusing it. He knew this was the most solid support his parents could give him.

He decided to save the money and leave it untouched unless he had absolutely no other choice.

The call with his father was like a shot in the arm, setting the fire in Wang Xiaoliang's heart fully ablaze. He launched into a frantic final sprint in the last few days before graduation.

During the day, he hauled out all the drinks left over from his previous wholesale purchase, loaded them into an enormous backpack, and made his rounds through the men's dormitories across campus.

The weather was growing hotter. The graduating students were busy packing and could not be bothered to go downstairs, making chilled drinks a hot commodity.

There was an old refrigerator in his rented room. Despite its age, it cooled things very well.

"Want a drink? It's cold."

"Red Bull, cola, iced black tea. All cheaper than the supermarket."

To earn the trust of students who did not know him, he came up with an idea. He photocopied his student ID and neatly wrote a price list and his WeChat ID on the back in black ink.

"Add me on WeChat. Whenever you need anything, just message me. I'll deliver it to your door."

The method proved surprisingly effective. The copy of his student ID gave him instant credibility. Most people needed little persuading: scan, pay, and take their drinks, all in one smooth sequence.

Wang Xiaoliang's pitiful WeChat balance began filling up again at a visibly rapid pace.

One hundred... two hundred... five hundred...

He loved watching those numbers rise. Every cent had been earned through his own sweat and ingenuity. It felt solid, almost burning hot.

At night, once the dormitories quieted down, he returned to his rented room and started on his other venture.

Writing calligraphy and filming videos.

He secured his phone above the desk, aiming the camera at the sheet of xuan paper spread out below.

He switched on the fill light.

Steadying his breath, he wielded his brush, distilling the day's trending topic into a few characters.

He edited the writing process into short videos a little over ten seconds long, added songs from the music charts, and posted them on a short-video platform. His account name was simple: "Youyouzi."

One day, a private message popped up.

"Hello, do you sell your calligraphy?"

Wang Xiaoliang's heart gave a sudden leap.

He replied at once, "Yes."

The other person quickly responded, "I'm in Qingdao. Where are you? Can you ship it?"

"I'm in Jiangcheng. Yes, I can ship it."

They added each other on WeChat. The buyer was straightforward and went right to the point.

"I'd like a piece with the four characters for 'The Dao follows nature.' Would you be able to write that?"

"Yes."

"How much do you charge?"

Wang Xiaoliang did a quick calculation. The cost of paper and ink was almost negligible; the main expense was his skill and effort. He had no idea what the going rate was, so he simply quoted a figure he thought reasonable.

"Fifty yuan per character. Would that work?"

"No problem!" The buyer agreed without hesitation. "Four characters, two hundred yuan. I'll pay first. Once you've written it, send me a photo. If I'm happy with it, ship it over with postage payable on delivery."

Soon, a WeChat notification sounded, and a two-hundred-yuan red packet arrived.

Wang Xiaoliang tapped to accept it.

Watching his balance rise another notch, he felt energy coursing through his entire body.

He immediately spread out a sheet of xuan paper, ground his ink, and steadied his breathing.

He wrote it twice, selected the version he liked best, and sent over a photo.

The reply came almost instantly.

"Beautiful calligraphy! I'll take that one!"

"I love it! Please add your signature. Do you have a seal?"

A signature? A seal?

Wang Xiaoliang thought for a moment, then picked up his brush and wrote his short-video account name in the corner of the piece.

Youyouzi, followed by the year, month, and day.

He explained to the buyer that he did not have a seal yet.

"That's fine."

"Sorry for the trouble. Please send me your address."

The buyer's address arrived soon afterward.

Wang Xiaoliang noted it down and carefully rolled up the xuan paper, planning to mail it the next day.

His first sale had gone more smoothly than he could have imagined.

Just as he was preparing to turn off the light and go to sleep, still in high spirits, another WeChat message from the buyer popped up.

"Master Youyouzi, I have a friend who's also very fond of calligraphy. I showed him your work, and he'd like to commission a piece too."

Another sale?

Wang Xiaoliang perked up. "Of course! What would he like me to write?"