The moment the money landed in his account, Fang Yi didn't hesitate—his first purchase was a computer.
A computer was essential. First, he needed it to write the remaining six volumes of Ghost Blows Out the Light.
Second, it was a key step in his next money-making plan.
Now that he had some capital, the methods he could use to earn money would become drastically easier.
He also planned to install an air conditioner at home. After all, now that he had the funds, it was time to improve their living conditions a little.
Oh, and he needed to find time to get a driver's license, too.
Back then, driving schools were still loosely managed. As long as you didn't do something outrageous—like mistake the windshield wipers for turn signals—you could pretty much guarantee a license by slipping your instructor a couple of packs of cigarettes.
Of course, for a "seasoned driver" like Fang Yi, driving skills weren't a problem at all.
What really mattered was how convenient and fast getting a license was in that era. As long as you felt ready, you could ask the instructor to schedule your tests—and you could even book multiple test modules at once.
In theory, you could get a driver's license in a single day.
…
The next morning, 10 a.m.
Fang Yi was still debating whether to swing by Qiu-ge's place for a bit when his phone rang—it was Yang Zhen.
"Mr. Fang, your signed contract copy has been mailed out—please keep an eye out for the delivery. Also, the after-tax payment of 1.27 million has been transferred to your account. Because of the large sum, the funds might take a little while to arrive."
After all, it was only last year that most banks had adopted wire transfers. Instant deposits like in the future were still a fantasy. For a lump sum like 1.27 million, Fang Yi figured it would take at least two hours.
As for why the original 1.35 million was now 1.27 million—that was due to publishing tax, which wasn't his personal responsibility. The publisher had already deducted it on his behalf.
"Thanks for the trouble, Chief Editor Yang," Fang Yi replied with a smile.
"I won't keep you any longer, then."
After a few more polite exchanges, they ended the call.
Barely a few minutes later, the phone rang again.
Fang Yi glanced at the caller ID and couldn't help but smile. Picking up, he said teasingly, "Miss me already, darling?"
"…"
On the other end of the line, Han Ning fell into stunned silence.
She was sitting on her sofa, her petite hand clutching the phone tightly. Her ears had turned completely pink, like translucent cherries—adorable and glowing.
Embarrassment swelled in her chest… mixed with a faint, blossoming sweetness.
Over the past few weeks, Han Ning had slowly begun to understand what it felt like to be in love.
Just one day apart, and she already found herself missing him.
So today, she had caved and called him again.
Honestly, it was perfectly normal. When two young people are falling in love, they'd rather stick together 24/7.
And for her, it was still just the beginning.
"Alright, I won't tease you anymore."
Seeing that she was still quiet, Fang Yi chuckled and asked, "Are you free this afternoon?"
"Yes!"
Han Ning thought for a second and answered softly.
She had originally planned to go to driving school for practice, but the moment she realized Fang Yi was probably asking her out, she agreed without hesitation.
"Then come with me to buy a computer."
"Okay."
"Settled then. Let's meet at 1 p.m. at the Grand Market Tower."
Fang Yi had considered inviting Zhao Wanqiu along, but recalling that she still needed rest, he decided against it.
In this sweltering heat, it wouldn't be wise for her to be out.
After all, it was lung cancer—even if it was only Stage 1A, it still demanded respect.
Back in his bedroom, Fang Yi pulled out a sheet of letter paper and began jotting down a list of domain names.
Domain flipping—that was step two of his money-making plan.
…
Around 11:00 a.m., his parents, Zhuang Shufen and Fang Yucheng, returned home from work, bringing him a lunch box from the factory cafeteria.
Ever since the college entrance exams ended, Zhuang Shufen had taken some time off. But generally, they would just bring lunch home rather than cook.
Not to mooch off the factory cafeteria—but simply for convenience.
After all, there was only Fang Yi at home during the day. If he had to cook for himself after a whole morning of work, that'd be way too much hassle.
The cafeteria food wasn't great, but Fang Yi scarfed down most of it in a few bites. Watching his parents panting from the heat, he said with concern, "Mom, I'm thinking of installing an air conditioner at home."
Working at the anchor chain factory was already exhausting, and with summer heat this intense, heatstroke was a very real risk.
"What air conditioner? Those things cost several thousand apiece and guzzle more electricity than a fridge," Zhuang Shufen immediately shot back.
Combined, she and Fang Yucheng barely made 1,500 yuan a month. A decent air conditioner could run five or six thousand—basically four or five months' salary without spending a dime elsewhere.
They did have some savings, but that was untouchable. Their son was about to go to college soon, and tuition plus living expenses would eat up a fortune.
Hot? Sure, but they'd survived all these years, hadn't they?
That said… this summer was hotter than usual.
Fang Yi had expected her reaction. "I'll buy it. I'm not asking you guys to pay a cent."
"You'll buy it? With what mo—"
She cut herself off mid-sentence, a thought striking her. She turned to him in surprise. "Wait… did your manuscript payment come through?"
"Should be about now," Fang Yi said, glancing at the clock.
"How much did you get?"
Now she was genuinely curious, her earlier skepticism forgotten. Her son earning money from writing? That was something to brag about.
"After tax—1.27 million," Fang Yi said casually through a mouthful of rice.
Zhuang Shufen didn't even blink. She turned to her husband and nudged him, muttering, "Yucheng, your son's getting more ridiculous by the day. A few days ago it was 1 million, now it's 1.27 million. At this rate, he'll be claiming 5 million next week."
Tch.
Fang Yi rolled his eyes, too lazy to explain.
Zhuang Shufen continued on her own, "Anyway, your dad and I don't care about your royalty money. Keep it for yourself."
After fanning themselves for a while longer, the couple went to their bedroom for a nap—they still had to work in the afternoon.
Fang Yi cleaned the lunchbox, tidied up, and headed out.
He had barely stepped out of the stairwell when he hesitated—should he take his bicycle?
Barely ten seconds under the scorching sun, and his neck already felt like it was burning.
Today was hotter than usual, and this hour was the peak of the heat. Fang Yi had the very real concern that he might not even make it to Grand Market Tower before collapsing from heatstroke.
Nope. Gotta get that license and buy a car. Fast.
Because this?
Absolutely unbearable.