By the second glass of champagne, Matilda had sat down on his other side, her soft body pressed against his arm. "What's that scent on you? You smell so clean."
"I was born with it." Zhang Kuang spouted nonsense with a perfectly straight face.
He never drank the third glass, because Aisha took it out of his hand.
"That's enough," she said. "I don't want you drunk."
"Why?"
"Because if you're drunk, you won't remember." She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "And I want you to remember tonight."
Zhang Kuang's mind exploded with a boom.
He cast that Cleaning Technique almost instinctively-not because these girls' bodies were dirty, but because different ethnicities naturally had different scents.
As it happened, Zhang Kuang still found the scent of Middle Eastern people a little hard to get used to, so he cast a Cleaning Technique on all three. Temporarily washing those scents away would make things more pleasant.
When Zhang Kuang opened his eyes, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the Eiffel Tower gleamed gold in the morning light.
Last night had been great. Everything had been good. Now that he had a system, the road ahead looked full of hope.
At that thought, where were tonight's girls?
No, I have to get these girls' numbers. Keep their numbers, and if all else fails, continue the battle tonight.
Aisha came out carrying a tray, wearing nothing but one of his shirts-no, his T-shirts. He had no idea when she had slipped it on.
"You're awake?" She set the tray on the bedside table. On it were coffee, orange juice, and a few croissants. "Those two need a little more sleep. You really put them through their paces last night."
Zhang Kuang sat up, took the coffee, and had a sip, looking at her. "What about you?"
"Me?" Aisha smiled, an indescribable satisfaction in her smile. "I'm fine. Very fine. So fine that... I'm wondering just who you really are."
"An ordinary guy."
"An ordinary guy?" She raised an eyebrow. "An ordinary guy can battle three women for three straight hours without stopping? An ordinary guy can make someone like Lina, who's used to seeing elite bodyguards, call you 'abnormal'?"
Zhang Kuang fell silent for two seconds, then laughed. "All right, I really am a little abnormal. I admit it. I'm a freak."
"That's more like it." Aisha sat beside him and leaned against his shoulder. "Zhang Kuang, you said you're a footballer and you're going for a trial. Which club?"
"Not decided yet. I'll talk to the agency in a bit and see which club I'll trial with."
"Hmm..." She thought for a moment. "If you need any help, tell me. I have some connections in Paris."
Zhang Kuang glanced at her. He wanted to say, "No need," but swallowed the words before they left his mouth.
Not because he wanted to rely on a woman, but because he suddenly realized-in this unfamiliar country, one more connection meant one more road open to him.
"Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome." Aisha lifted her head and kissed the corner of his mouth. "After all, you performed so well last night. I have to give you a little tip."
"A tip?" Zhang Kuang laughed. "Then you're way too stingy. Leave me your number, and we'll keep going tonight. Also, don't push yourself. Get some more sleep later, or take some supplements. I'm worried you won't be up to it tonight."
"Oh?" Aisha's eyes lit up. "Sure. All right, we'll keep going tonight."
As she spoke, she picked up a pen and wrote down a phone number.
"Of course, if you can't handle it, you can call in reinforcements too, but I won't accept too many. For now, I'm only challenging three a night."
After saving the number, Zhang Kuang noticed an unread message on the screen. It had been sent last night by the agency he was meeting today:
[Mr. Zhang Kuang, please bring your personal information to our office tomorrow at 10 a.m. for an in-person meeting. Address: ...]
After reading the message, he slipped his phone into his pocket and bent down to pick up his clothes from the floor.
"You're leaving?" Aisha asked.
"Yeah." He dressed as he spoke. "Going back to get ready. I'm meeting the agency, and after that I might be going for a trial."
"Where are you staying?"
"A little hotel not far from here."
"Move in here." Aisha said it casually. "There are plenty of rooms. Take whichever you like."
Zhang Kuang's hands paused over his buttons, and he looked up at her.
"It's free," she added. "Think of it as... an upgraded version of last night's tip."
Zhang Kuang laughed. "You'll regret it, because you'll be dying of pleasure every night."
"That would be wonderful." Aisha laughed too. "That's exactly the life of drunken bliss and dreamlike oblivion I long for."
Zhang Kuang thought about it and decided she had a point-he didn't have much money right now. The hotel was cheap, but it still cost money. Staying here would save him some, and besides...
He glanced at Lina and Matilda, still curled up asleep in bed, and the corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily.
Besides, it would make dual cultivation convenient.
"All right," he said. "I'll move in this afternoon."
Aisha gave him a set of keys. After taking them, he gave her a passionate kiss and left.
As he came out of the apartment, he used a Cleaning Technique and felt fresh and invigorated.
Of course, before going to the SportCover agency, he needed a change of outfit. His current clothes weren't bad, but they weren't exactly good either.
He had gotten over two thousand euros from those petty thieves last night anyway. He went to a clothing store, picked out a reasonably well-fitting suit and a pair of white leather shoes, and bought a bag while he was there.
Then he took a taxi to the SportCover agency. The beautiful receptionist's eyes immediately lit up when she saw Zhang Kuang.
After all, he was better-looking than Kaká, tall, with a great physique, an outstanding air about him, and such a high charm stat. When an ordinary girl saw Zhang Kuang as he was now, she would... saying she could barely control herself would be a bit of an exaggeration, but she would still feel drawn to him and start fantasizing.
It was like asking whether young girls would fantasize upon seeing a twenty-year-old Kaká. Most of them would.
"Sir, who are you here to see?" the receptionist asked.
"Could I be here to ask you out?" Zhang Kuang teased.
"Oh, well, don't joke like that. But leave your number, and maybe..."
"Haha, no, I'm here to see Jonathan Leblanc."
"Oh, you're the Chinese striker who wants a trial with a club?"
"That's right. That's me."
"All right, follow me." The young receptionist was a little disappointed.
Zhang Kuang met Jonathan Leblanc, a short, balding Frenchman in his early forties. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of Zhang Kuang.
"Wow, you have the presence of a top football star. Your star image is on the same level as Beckham, Kaká, and Cristiano Ronaldo. But how are your skills?"
Zhang Kuang said, "Won't you know once you test me on the pitch? Ligue 1 teams won't be a problem, anyway."
"Oh? Very confident. All right, if you meet the standards in the test, we won't charge you a trial arrangement fee. Instead, we can sign you to a major representation contract."
"As long as the terms are good, nothing's off the table. If it doesn't work out, that just means your terms don't meet my requirements. I'd rather pay the arrangement fee."
"Haha, good, good, good. I like that. Let's go and test you."
Jonathan led Zhang Kuang out of the office, and they got into a car. About half an hour later, they arrived at a football training ground, where specialist coaches were waiting. Jonathan had arranged it before leaving the office.
It was all to test Zhang Kuang. If not for his looks, his confidence that he could play as a Ligue 1 starter, and the market of 1.4 billion people behind him, Jonathan really wouldn't have wasted the time.