CHAPTER 62: CHAPTER 61: FIRST GLIMMERS OF CUNNING

Ms. Qian’s brain and taste buds were intoxicated with caffeine and aspartame. After drinking more than half of the cola, she smacked her lips with satisfaction and scanned the room out of the corner of her eye, capturing a few thoughtful gazes.

"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated," Su Ziceng reminisced about the horse riding class. After winning the competition against Pello, she remembered the sage advice Pello gave her: never accept a challenge without understanding your opponents, "The answer is not clear, beware of deception."

A course with such a high failure rate was still chosen by students every year. Even after complaining about failing, students obediently picked it again, similar to the way horse riding class trained one’s demeanor and instinct, like how French exercises the flexibility of the tongue, every course at Kelly Women’s College was designed with a reason in mind. Although Su Ziceng genuinely could not comprehend the purpose of a course like Horse Classics.

A gurgling of cola down the throat caused Su, Wen, and Yan, who were still observing, to reluctantly divert their gaze and focus on "sentence making."

After collecting more than eighty sheets of recycled paper, Ms. Qian quickly flipped through them, occasionally reading a sentence or two aloud.

To be rich, start by reading good books, "Rigid," the single eyelids flipped disdainfully, students sadly molded by traditional teaching.

To be rich, marry a good husband. "Realistic," a sense of helplessness spread across the baby-faced girl’s expression—such is today’s female students.

To be rich, start by being independent. "Somewhat smart," she squashed an empty cola can with one hand and tossed it into the trash.

To be rich, start by building roads. "..." Ms. Qian’s mouth twisted like a recalcitrant earthworm, as if she wanted to laugh, yet seemed on the verge of exploding in anger. She then glanced at the bottom right of the test paper and saw Su Ziceng’s name written boldly.

"Miss Su Ziceng," Ms. Qian remarked, this test paper was handed out every few years, but this was the first time she had come across such an answer, "Your response is very interesting."

"Mr. Luo mentioned it just last class," Su Ziceng confidently cited the words of the old scholar with white hair and a purple complexion from Horse Classics class. After listening to an hour and a half of Marx’s political economy, she remembered this particular phrase.

Mr. Luo, the teacher of Horse Classics, had grown up under the care of the Z government. He enjoyed praising the government during his extra class time, especially last session when he had expounded on the benefits of building roads and bridges.

"Hmm, everyone has their own expertise, Kelly supports liberal arts education. Let’s get back to the main topic," Ms. Qian reluctantly put aside the test paper, "Mathematics, which stands for financial management."

Ms. Qian, who had consumed the cola, suddenly became animated as if energized, her whiteboard marker dancing across the board, "Each and every student here has an inseparable relationship with numbers, and this class is about teaching you the most important number in life – money. As for how to manage money, pay close attention to the lecture. This is related to your intermediate exams."

In the classroom, the older students who had heard Ms. Qian’s speech revealed expressions of indifference; it was a speech they had heard countless times. Even if they passed the math class, many still failed the bizarre intermediate exams.

The freshmen who hadn’t heard this speech were all abuzz with conversation, except for the front row, which was already a hubbub.

"No need for discussion," counting money was Ms. Qian’s greatest passion in life, "Of the test papers just now, only two were correct. A woman’s wealth is not only reflected in money but must also be embodied in thought and physical actions. Soon you’ll understand the importance of independence and diligence. The two students who answered ’to be rich, start by being independent’ will receive an extra ten points in their final grade. That’s all for today’s lesson. Ladies, let us learn in the days ahead to extract sweetness from the sour lemons through hard work."

In the classroom, the majority of students were disappointed. Wen Maixue sighed; she had answered correctly, but who had written the other correct answer? Yan Wuxu, sitting next to her, remained impassive.

Understanding the principle of independence is not easy, whether for Wen Maixue, who came from a large family, or Yan Wuxu, born into poverty.

Listening to the lecture, Su Ziceng felt as if a layer of paper in her mind had been punctured—a thin layer that allowed her to glimpse the future beyond the past. She understood how she was different from Wen Maixue and also what she currently lacked the most.

That inconspicuous test paper gave Su Ziceng belated inspiration, but to make things work, she still needed to use her brains.

Su Ziceng had fantasized countless times that after her rebirth, even just a short twenty-five years would be enough for her to set some things right. For instance, like Wen Maixue, she could hold her head high as a noble socialite, make Hang Yishao kneel before her to write a "Chastity Book," and step on Chang’s mother and daughter, listening to their confessions. More than half a year had passed, and every person and thing was still in its original place.

Even herself, yet in the face of those stale people and affairs, she was still wavering. Once she made up her mind, the first thing she did was to take the ledger from Secretary Wang and find that wine shop selling fake tobacco and alcohol, starting with the smallest thorn to break them one by one.

Su Ziceng’s disposition was definitely one to harbor grudges and seek revenge. Thus, when she found out that the wine shop she had trusted all along was selling her fake wine, she was no longer composed.

Counting her previous life, this wine shop located in Zone 3 had been deceiving her since she was sixteen. Now that she thought about it, Su Ziceng had been tricked by that boss who once seemed simple and honest but now appeared treacherous and sleazy, for nearly twenty years.

But the old are wiser after all, and after the wine shop owner saw the ledger that Su Ziceng brought to confront him, he just chuckled "heh heh" twice, flipping out another ledger which had the Su Family’s wine money recorded in real gold and silver—not a penny more, not a penny less—exactly two million.

"Impossible," when Su Ziceng was about to lose her temper, the wine shop owner revealed his yellow teeth tainted by cheap tobacco.

"Miss Su, the Su Family has also been a customer of our wine shop. How could you just listen to someone else’s nonsense? Our Wine Shop prices are clearly marked and we never cheat old or young."

That should be changed to ’never not cheating old or young,’ Su Ziceng thought, her teeth chattering in rage. Secretary Wang was right; swindlers and lowlifes are cut from the same cloth.

Fortunately, she had not torn off the facade in front of Su Qingzhang and confronted him with the Chang’s mother and daughter; otherwise, she would really have been bitten back countless times just like before her rebirth.

Su Ziceng also wanted to find that delivery driver to confront him, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

Upon further inquiry, she learned that the driver had damaged a private car while delivering goods a few days ago, costing the wine shop owner a lot of money, and he had been fired.

Su Ziceng’s well-laid plans were disrupted again. Thinking of the sleazy appearance of the wine shop owner and waiting for him to slip up was impossible; she must find that driver. The Chang’s mother and daughter had paid a hush money of one million five hundred thousand, and it was time for the swindler to bleed a bit.

In the vastness of Mo City, to search for a person without a special pathway was impossible. Su Ziceng first asked around in the major auto repair shops, but did not find any recent records of major private car repairs. She had thought that as the party responsible for the accident, the driver would have left some information, but even this clue proved unfruitful.

If she couldn’t find the person with her own efforts, then she could only ask others to think of other methods. The first person Su Ziceng thought of was Boss Han. Within the Sixth District, where dragons and snakes mixed, there were people like Yu Hua’s fortune teller, and certainly others who had ways to find the leads.

This time Su Ziceng really did follow the vine to find the melon; Boss Han indeed had some connections, and he actually brought the person over that day. It was really the same driver who had delivered the wine for Su Ziceng a week ago.

It was a funny coincidence that the driver also remembered Su Ziceng; he had been a driver for so many years and among the clientele he served, there were few as amiable as Su Ziceng, willing to listen to his ramblings throughout the drive and even respond a few times.

After hearing Su Ziceng’s questions, the driver did not go on a long rant as he had before but instead fell silent and started smoking. When Su Ziceng asked about the origin of the wine, he was also hesitant and unwilling to clarify.

Seeing this situation, the straightforward Boss Han couldn’t stand it anymore, "I say, Ma Lu, just speak up. You remember your old employer’s kindness, but did they consider the livelihood of your entire family? They made you take the blame, and after things settled down, they kicked you to the curb. Have you gone daft?"

Speaking of his family, the middle-aged man known as Ma Lu couldn’t help but get teary-eyed.

Su Ziceng knew that it was time for a combination of threats and inducements.