Chapter 8: The Hint

“Zheng Qian, I’m a bit tired and want to go home, but I left my keys at the office, so I can’t get in...” Qin Xueli whispered softly into Zheng Qian’s ear.

Left her keys at the office? How does that sound... a bit like an invitation? The unspoken message was clear—did she want him to accompany her to a hotel?

“Then stay at a hotel tonight. It’s on me. I’ll transfer you the money shortly.”

“I still want to have some fun,” Zheng Qian replied. His interest had shifted from Qin Xueli to Jin Lu.

“Oh.” Qin Xueli didn’t greet anyone else and left the scene on her own.

She had already seen through it: whether it was Xinxin, Angela, or her so-called best friends, they had all set their sights on Zheng Qian. Though they appeared cordial on the surface, the truth was they had already turned against each other.

Well, whatever. Qin Xueli didn’t really care. After all, they only met while out having fun. Compared to these professionals, Qin Xueli still seemed relatively innocent. She admitted she wasn’t on their level and couldn’t outplay them.

If it came down to fighting over Zheng Qian, she probably wouldn’t win.

After Qin Xueli left, Zheng Qian pondered how much money to send her.

Ten thousand? No, that wouldn’t guarantee a cashback from the system.

Yebe, officially classified as a second-tier city, was really more like third or fourth-tier. Even the most upscale hotel wouldn’t cost more than a few thousand yuan; he’d never heard of one charging over ten thousand.

He entered 5,200 and transferred it, adding a note: “Sorry for staying out late. Consider this compensation so you can stay at a better hotel.”

Then he turned off his phone and resumed watching Jin Lu play dice.

In the following rounds, without exception, Jin Lu won every time.

Ai Qingyue, Xinxin, Angela, and Chen Feiyu were already on the verge of vomiting from being forced to drink.

The favorability ratings of these three towards Zheng Qian all dropped between five to ten points.

Damn, to find such a strong nightclub woman to force-feed them drinks without even offering a sip—that’s bound to lower their opinion of him.

Of course, Zheng Qian didn’t mind at all. If it dropped, it dropped.

“I’m going to the bathroom, ugh~” Chen Feiyu barely made it before nearly throwing up—thankfully he held it in, or else Ai Qingyue would have been drenched.

“I’m going too...” two of them were practically ready to vomit.

Zheng Qian was very pleased with Jin Lu.

“More?” he asked.

“No more, no more.”

“No way...”

Xinxin and Angela both clutched their chests, miserable, begging Jin Lu and Zheng Qian for mercy.

“Alright, let’s call it a night.” Jin Lu stood up, lifted her already poured glass, and signaled Zheng Qian to drink it all in one go.

“Mr. Zheng, can I add you on WeChat?”

Jin Lu’s favorability toward him remained steady at ten points, but she took the initiative to request his contact.

Naturally, Zheng Qian didn’t refuse. After adding her, she quickly sent a message:

“Mr. Zheng, I’m still working and haven’t gotten off yet. Later, I’ll treat you to some late-night food.”

Of course, she couldn’t say this openly in front of others.

Zheng Qian’s admiration for her grew.

Anyone who worked in a bar usually had high emotional intelligence.

A sudden thought arose: he wanted to conquer her, though he felt a bit nervous.

But men like Ma Jack, Ma Boni, and Li Robin, who owned billions, also had women they longed for but could never have.

From what he’d just seen, Jin Lu seemed to be that kind of woman—money alone couldn’t satisfy her.

So why did Jin Lu work in a nightclub sales role if not for the money?

For fun?

That possibility wasn’t out of the question, but what kind of men could a rare gem like Jin Lu truly toy with?

Someone like him—a greenhorn newbie just out of the beginner’s village?

In terms of skill levels, Zheng Qian was still a fresh novice, Qin Xueli was a low-tier player, and Xinxin and Angela barely qualified as mid-tier.

A woman who could drive Qin Xueli away and make Xinxin and Angela puke was what level?

He thought he had underestimated Jin Lu—she had to be at least top-tier.

Suddenly, he felt very nervous, almost intimidated.

Yet at the same time, he was incredibly thrilled.

If tonight he could have something happen with a woman like Jin Lu, he believed ninety-nine percent of men wouldn’t refuse.

After adding her on WeChat, Jin Lu left the private booth, and a salesman quickly approached.

“Brother, are you still drinking?”

“No more. I’ve hit my limit. You want me to spill it?” Zheng Qian smiled.

“No way. This is your VIP card from Red Rose. Next time you come, you’ll get top-tier treatment.” The salesman handed over the card with flattery.

Zheng Qian looked at the two intoxicated women slumped on the sofa.

He was confident that if he suggested taking them to a hotel to rest now, they wouldn’t refuse.

But if they went with him tonight, they’d also go with someone else tomorrow.

A single key that could open ten thousand locks meant it was a master key.

A single lock that could be opened by ten thousand keys was a lousy lock.

Women like Xinxin and Angela were beautiful but had been opened by countless men.

What if they carried diseases? That would be a huge loss.

He had finally acquired a top-tier system; if he ended up infected tomorrow, it would be a real disaster.

“There’s still quite a bit left. If you want to keep drinking, stay here. If not, save it yourselves. I’m going out for a bit; it’s stuffy here.” Zheng Qian pointed to the few remaining bottles of Spade A on the table.

The salesman was stunned.

What kind of move was this?

He’d opened three sets of God Dragons and one small God Dragon, yet not taken a single girl?

Or was he already hooked by Sister Jin?

In the salesman’s mind, the latter was more likely.

“Brother, let me add you on WeChat too. Next time you come, just give me a heads-up. I’ll reserve the best booth for you and call a driver if you’ve had too much, to get you home safely.”

Who wouldn’t want to cling to a big shot like that?

Zheng Qian added the salesman’s WeChat and was then escorted out of Red Rose.

Walking down the street, Zheng Qian stared at his bank balance for a long time.

2,666,640.

In one night, he’d earned over two and a half million.

As for financial strength, Zheng Qian no longer needed to worry.

But in terms of soft power, he still had much to improve.

Character, vision, tolerance—these and many others.

If he possessed enough soft power, would someone like Chen Feiyu dare show up at his booth?

Certainly not.

Even with money, he’d still be treated like a mark.

Long ago, Zheng Qian had read a book called Rich Dad Poor Dad, which explained that your perception of wealth determines how much you can truly manage.

When people receive money, the first thing they should do is invest in themselves and improve, not consume.

After opening his first set of God Dragons, Zheng Qian had already thought about buying a villa for himself tomorrow.

That was classic poor thinking.

After leaving the nightclub, Zheng Qian felt he had come to many realizations.

His phone buzzed with a WeChat message from Qin Xueli:

“I booked the room. Shangri-La, 9694.”