Pei Xingyan bent down, taking advantage of the front-row Lecturer still lost in his own solitary teaching, and silently slipped out from the back of the classroom.
Passing through the rows of teaching buildings, flowerbeds, and squares, he spotted a girl crouched at the edge of the bushes, her head tucked in, a smile on her face that could only be described as rather sleazy.
His footsteps slowed involuntarily. Now he was beginning to doubt whether this “good money-making opportunity” Tang Xin had just told him about was actually reliable at all.
He wanted to watch for a while, but Tang Xin, who happened to look up, caught him right away. She shouted his name and dashed over like a rabbit.
“Xingyan, Xingyan, we’re really going to strike it rich this time!”
Just from her tone, you could tell how excited she was. The hand holding her phone was trembling nonstop.
Pei Xingyan gave a perfunctory smile. He had heard such words from this girl countless times before. A girl with dreams of getting rich always managed to come up with some wild ideas.
He really needed money, and not just a little—a huge amount, and fast. That kind of money wasn’t something you could earn by just taking on a few more part-time jobs.
So he was always willing to believe her. Who knows, maybe one day she really would stumble upon some business opportunity?
“Listen to me, listen to me. I’ve finally figured it out. If we want to make money, we can’t target the poor. We have to earn from the rich. Poor people have already been squeezed dry by life—what’s left to take?” Tang Xin said excitedly. “But the rich aren’t fools, right? They have money, but getting them to actually spend it is harder than climbing to the sky—”
“Big sis, I snuck out of class for this. Can you keep it short?”
“Can’t you be a little patient? This is a big deal. What class could possibly teach you how to make a hundred thousand a month?”
Tang Xin smiled confidently and flashed her transfer record. Pei Xingyan leaned in for a look. The first digit was a 3, followed by four zeros.
“Thirty… thousand… thirty thousand?!” He was finally a bit surprised. “How did you get that?”
“That’s just the deposit~” Tang Xin started shaking her head smugly, squinting one eye and puffing up with pride. “So, want to partner up? We’ll split it seventy-thirty when it’s done~”
“Why only thirty percent…”
“Thirty percent is mine!” Tang Xin put her arm around his neck. “Seventy percent goes to you—how’s that for generosity?”
Pei Xingyan knew well that there was no such thing as a free lunch, especially when a money-grubber is willing to give up her own share. Unless she liked you, there had to be a catch—probably a massive one.
He rolled his eyes warily, his tone cautious. “You’re not asking me to do something illegal, are you? Then when we get caught, you’ll claim I’m the mastermind or something…”
“How could I?!” Tang Xin denied loudly. “Didn’t I just tell you? We’re going to earn money from the rich!”
Without another word, she dragged Pei Xingyan along and sent him a piece of software with a risk warning. Pei Xingyan twitched his lips and followed her instructions to install and log in. In an instant, he became the official manager displayed on the app, while Tang Xin was the assistant.
The app was simple, just a chat program. The logo had a big character “Sugar” on it, and below was its name—[Sugar Heart].
Sugar Heart APP?
Pei Xingyan frowned. He felt… this project really didn’t seem all that reliable.
And the worries he’d had earlier, about being set up by Tang Xin as a criminal fraud ringleader, might not be so far-fetched after all…
But Tang Xin wasn’t thinking that much. She continued to describe her genius plan. “What we’re going to do is sell emotional value to these rich people—especially to those naive young girls. How about it? That’s not illegal, right?”
“Sounds even more like it. Isn’t this just a pig-butchering scam?!”
“Were you even listening? We collect money first, then provide emotional comfort services. How is that a pig-butchering scam?”
“Emotional comfort?” Pei Xingyan caught on to the term instantly.
“That’s right. Do you think rich women need to pay for boyfriends? They could easily find a cute boy to date if they wanted.” Tang Xin spoke with conviction. “What we’re offering is irreplaceable spiritual solace. It’s just a hundred thousand for now, but in the future, who knows—maybe hundreds of thousands or even millions, hehe…”
Pei Xingyan fell silent. What Tang Xin said was true.
Before he’d fallen to his current state—barely scraping by day to day—he’d known plenty of rich kids. For them, emotional value wasn’t anything rare.
Only truly precious, genuine feelings would make them willing to give everything—just like that heavy-hearted girl he knew so well…
Just then, his phone rang. His only client had already sent a message in a rush, her avatar a crying teddy bear.
[I really want to see another world.]
Just a few simple words, but the pressure seeped through the screen. The content was gentle, but it wasn’t something a mentally healthy person would say.
Who talks like that right off the bat?
A stereotypical landmine girl flashed through Pei Xingyan’s mind, holding a utility knife with a chilling smile.
He couldn’t help but shiver.
Tang Xin leaned over too, blinking in confusion. “That can’t be right. I recruited this girl offline. I’ve met her—she seemed quiet and sweet, even had a lovely voice. Why would she say something like that?”
“You really don’t understand the hardships of life. These days, everyone’s under a lot of mental stress. Just because a girl looks quiet doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking like this.” He took charge, turning the lesson on Tang Xin. “Wrong! Kids like that are under even more pressure.”
Tang Xin nodded blankly, mumbling, “Right, right, right.”
“And look, we just connected with her less than five seconds ago, and she already sent a message. What does that tell you?”
“What does it mean?” Tang Xin asked dumbly.
“It means her mind is already on the brink of collapse. She’s treating this app as her lifeline.” Pei Xingyan suddenly asked, “How did you pitch this to her when you recruited her?”
“I just… talked it up, you know…” Tang Xin admitted sheepishly, not daring to speak up. “I said no matter what troubles she had, we could heal them here, that kind of thing…”
“…”
Pei Xingyan suddenly felt like smashing his phone and making a run for it. Now he understood how Tang Xin so easily got a thirty-thousand deposit—she’d found a high-pressure, all-or-nothing, ticking time-bomb of a rich lady…
If this landmine blew, it’d be more powerful than an atomic bomb.
But then again, fortune favors the bold…
“Hurry up and reply to her. There’s another new message.” Tang Xin pointed at his phone screen, shifting the topic back.
[I really want to leave this place.]
The mood was even heavier… Pei Xingyan could tell—if this wasn’t some classic “yuyu syndrome” from an anime kid just being melodramatic, then this was a gas tank about to explode.
The girl’s messages kept coming in like a bombardment, each sentence filled with loss and despair.
“You don’t know what to say back, do you?” Tang Xin grew anxious, wanting to take over. “Just tell her life is beautiful, to think more about her family and loved ones, anything to calm her down for now.”
Pei Xingyan let out a cold chuckle and quickly typed a few words:
[Leaving might not be such a bad thing.]
Tang Xin was completely stunned. In that instant, she saw her future self being charged with incitement and hauled away by a police car, sirens blaring.
“Are you crazy? How can you say that?” She rushed to grab Pei Xingyan’s phone, trying to retract the message.
“You’re the crazy one. Do you know there’s a famous bridge in Korea?” Pei Xingyan spoke slowly. “Ma Po Bridge. The authorities put up all sorts of signs to stop people from jumping into the river. Things like ‘Go see the ones you love’ and ‘The brightest moment is just ahead.’ Guess what? A year later, the number of people jumping off Ma Po Bridge increased sixfold.”
“How… how could that be?” Tang Xin was even more shocked, her mind unable to process all this.
In her understanding, when someone’s on the verge of a breakdown, shouldn’t you just comfort them with warm words?
“If they really had something worth loving or holding on to, they wouldn’t say things like this. Your kind words will only provoke her more.” Pei Xingyan sighed helplessly. “And remember, this is a rich lady—one who can hand over a thirty-thousand deposit just like that. Guess what kind of person could push a young lady like that to the brink?”
“It’s…” Tang Xin finally caught on.
“Exactly. It’s someone close to her. Very likely immediate family—maybe even her parents.”
“Ah?” Tang Xin looked dejected. She realized this money might not be as easy to earn as she’d thought.
After pulling herself together, another doubt popped up. “But your reply isn’t right either… What if it pushes her over the edge?”
Pei Xingyan grinned, typing as he explained, “For girls like her, you have to use the scumbag playbook. Do you know why scumbags always succeed in relationships?”
“Scum—scumbag?” Tang Xin hadn’t expected this topic. With zero experience between men and women, she was at a loss for words.
“Because in the beginning, scumbags do whatever it takes to please their chosen target. They provide emotional value, say what she wants to hear, even lie or use manipulation. They don’t care about the consequences—just about reaching their goal. The honest ones are the exact opposite.”
He kept smiling, but now it was the confident smile of someone with victory in hand. “So, we have to be like scumbags at first—use any means necessary to get her to drop this idea.”
Another line was sent.
[Because I’ve thought about it too, and I’ve tried several times already. But I never succeeded. After hearing you say that, I think… maybe it’s worth trying again…]