After the weekend, Wei Zijin did not contact Wang Xiaoliang again, and Wang Xiaoliang did not bother her either.
But he could hardly wait for the next weekend, because Wei Zijin had agreed to let him visit her home then.
A new week began.
Wang Xiaoliang's life filled with a relentless, fast-paced routine.
During the day, he shot videos. His calligraphy was bold and powerful, yet the words he wrote were internet hot topics. That contrast kept his videos' traffic consistently high.
Strong video traffic was a powerful tool for drawing viewers into his livestreams.
At eight in the evening, his livestream began on time.
He had already learned how to liven up the atmosphere during his two-hour broadcasts.
After signing off, he carefully wrote out whatever his customers had requested in their orders.
By the time he finished all the orders, it was already the early hours of the morning.
Monday, eleven hundred yuan.
Tuesday, thirteen hundred yuan.
Wednesday, eleven hundred and fifty yuan.
Thursday, fifteen hundred yuan.
His income was fairly steady. Though physically exhausted, he was exceptionally energized mentally.
In the early hours of Friday, Wang Xiaoliang finished his last order, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long breath.
He opened the banking app for the account linked to his withdrawals.
A string of numbers appeared clearly on the screen.
Balance: 11,845.6 yuan.
Over ten thousand yuan.
Apart from the two thousand his mother had transferred to him, he had earned nearly ten thousand yuan.
For the first time in his life, he had earned such a "huge sum" through his own abilities in such a short time.
This money was more than just a number. It gave him confidence.
He turned off his phone and lay in bed, but felt no sleepiness at