Chapter 0245: Each Goes Their Own Way

In this world, causes and effects are interconnected, light and color refract repeatedly, so the interpretation of any single thing is, in essence, boundless. Yet when we sit together to discuss, everything gains boundaries and constraints. To let imagination run wild, repeatedly picking up fragments, the deeper the debate, the further it strays from the point. In essence, whenever something is spoken of, it is by borrowing external things to prove the twists and turns within one's own heart. Yet one may treat water as wine and get drunk without drinking, but in the end, one cannot make others also call a deer a horse, utterly absurd.

As for cause and effect, sometimes there really is nothing to be said.

It is often said that you reap what you sow. Perhaps there truly is a hidden destiny; people often, without realizing it, miss something.

Zhao Fusheng saw Hu Xia again when he finished his phone call with Liu Dehua. Putting down the phone, he was about to leave the study room when he ran into Hu Xia and her new boyfriend, the freshman.

"Why are you here?"

The freshman clearly recognized Zhao Fusheng, knowing he was the one who had stopped Hu Xia last time, and looked at him with hostility.

Looking at the boy who was a head shorter than him, Zhao Fusheng smiled and turned to Hu Xia: "What a coincidence."

"Yeah," Hu Xia said, slightly embarrassed, gently smoothing her hair and reaching out to hold her boyfriend's hand.

Since breaking up with Tan Kaixuan, the once good relationship among them had become awkward. Fortunately, the junior year didn't have many classes, and even when they did, they were in large lecture halls, with the boys sitting in the back and Hu Xia with her roommates in the front, thus avoiding encounters with Tan Kaixuan.

Of course, it was said that occasionally Hu Xia would attend classes with the boy, but that boy never came to Zhao Fusheng's major's classrooms.

"I'm off." Zhao Fusheng smiled at Hu Xia and walked straight ahead, never once glancing at the freshman.

Whom to let down, whom to embrace, whom to sacrifice—the road to happiness twists and turns, tears and smiles mixed together. Time will tell whose choice was more correct.

But by then, things will have long changed.

"Hey, stop!"

When Zhao Fusheng had already reached the bottom of the building, the boy still chased after him, with Hu Xia following anxiously.

"You have something to say?" Zhao Fusheng stopped and looked up at him. To be honest, having been trained by his father and grandfather since childhood, Zhao Fusheng could take on five of these scholarly types.

"I'm telling you, stay away from Hu Xia from now on. Don't think I don't know what you're up to. Hu Xia and I truly love each other. Never mind that Tan guy having some dirty money, I..." The boy pointed at Zhao Fusheng, looking indignant.

Clearly, he enjoyed showing off his manliness in front of his girlfriend.

Most bookish types like to do this because they think it makes them look manly and imposing.

"Bang!"

"Ah!"

But unfortunately, he was dealing with Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng never liked to reason with people, because in his previous life he had heard too many reasons yet failed to live his life well. So he was a hundred percent sure that reasoning, no matter how much you heard, was mostly useless, at most enriching your theoretical knowledge.

"First, I was just passing by today, and I arrived before you did. Second, whether you two truly love each other has nothing to do with me, and now nothing to do with Tan Kaixuan either." Zhao Fusheng landed a heavy punch on the boy's nose, making him crouch on the ground holding his mouth, while he said calmly: "You should be glad that you got together with Hu Xia after she had already broken up with him; otherwise, I can guarantee you'd spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."

Having said that, he glanced at Hu Xia, who had anxiously run out: "Your taste in men really isn't great."

With a cold laugh, Zhao Fusheng turned and walked toward the school gate.

Watching his back, Hu Xia smiled bitterly and quickly went to help her boyfriend.

"Bastard, I'll get him!" the little boy shouted angrily, but didn't chase after Zhao Fusheng. He wasn't stupid; Zhao Fusheng had nearly incapacitated him with one punch. If it came to a fight, whether in height or skill, he was no match for that guy.

"Forget it, you can't mess with him," Hu Xia advised with a bitter smile.

"Why?" Clearly, the little boyfriend, like most boys, had a competitive streak—perhaps a common flaw in all men, always wanting to play the hero in front of the girl they admire.

"He's the most mysterious of Tan Kaixuan's roommates. You know that counselor at our school who started an advertising company? He was one of the first to work with Teacher Zheng. The other one you know too—Qin Wentao, who talked to me at the KTV last time." Hu Xia said to her boyfriend.

The boy immediately recalled the time they went out singing and ran into Qin Wentao. Qin Wentao had just come out of the restroom when they arrived with Hu Xia and his roommates. He simply greeted Hu Xia, and a while later, someone sent over a bottle of foreign liquor.

A bottle of foreign liquor costing several hundred yuan was something they, as students, couldn't afford. They only drank beer when they went out singing, but that guy just sent it over.

At the time, he thought it was strange, but after returning to school and asking around, he learned that Qin Wentao was a big shot on campus—already the deputy director of the planning department at an advertising company before graduation, a powerful figure.

But now, from Hu Xia's mouth, he learned that Zhao Fusheng was the same kind of person as Qin Wentao.

Seeing her boyfriend's face turn pale, Hu Xia quickly soothed him. After all, she had chosen him, and even if it was bad, she had to swallow her pride.

If Zhao Fusheng knew that in some people's eyes he had become something like a big demon, he would definitely laugh out loud. He had always kept a low profile.

…

…

"Pass, pass!"

"Shoot, shoot!"

"Ah, damn, missed again..."

When Zhao Fusheng opened the door, what came into view were several young people watching TV in the living room, led by Tan Kaixuan and Wen Yu, along with two website staff members.

"Old Zhao, you're here." Tan Kaixuan glanced at Zhao Fusheng: "Why didn't you buy some snacks?"

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes: "What snacks? It's not even time to eat yet."

As he spoke, he glanced at the TV and saw that these guys were watching the Chinese Jia A League. He was instantly speechless and said contemptuously: "What's there to watch? It's all fixed matches, and a bunch of players who can't play well but have big tempers."

Speaking of it, the resentment toward the national football team is a pain for many Chinese. Some say officialdom and the entertainment industry are the dirtiest places in the world, but in Zhao Fusheng's view, the football circle is no better.

To use an idiom, it's a sink of iniquity.

Without exaggeration, from top to bottom, inside and out, wherever you can find a connection, there's nothing clean.

Zhao Fusheng once thought he was being a petty person judging a gentleman's heart, but later, after learning the truth about football matches from news reports, he felt that instead of supporting Chinese football, he might as well support genuine subscriptions.

At least those online writers occasionally burst out and know to thank their readers, but those national team players—frankly, Zhao Fusheng thought they were worse than dogs.

After all, a dog knows to guard the house and bark, but those bastards on the national team earn a lot of money year-round but just muddle through during matches, showing no sign of wanting to win.

"What else can we watch? There's nothing good. Who knows if they can make it to the World Cup?" Wen Yu, leaning on the sofa, sighed after hearing Zhao Fusheng's words.

The 2002 World Cup hadn't changed; it was still co-hosted by Japan and South Korea. Everyone said it was a good opportunity, since with these two hosts absent, there were at least two fewer teams the national team couldn't beat.

"It shouldn't be a problem; they should make it." Zhao Fusheng thought for a moment and blinked: "If they can't make it to the World Cup under these circumstances, then the Football Association and the team should all find a rope and hang themselves."

"True, let's hope so." A group of fans sighed and moaned.

Zhao Fusheng shook his head; he really wasn't interested. Of course, he didn't mind others discussing it. Everyone has their own hobbies; you can dislike something, but you can't stop others from liking it.

"How's it going?"

Zhao Fusheng asked a young man who had just come out of a room.

His name was Dong Zhengxiang, a senior in computer science graduating next year. He had heard the website was hiring and came to apply. Now he usually lived here, maintaining the site.

"Not bad. Registered users have exceeded 15,000," Dong Zhengxiang said. "And I think, at this growth rate, by the end of the month, we can easily reach 100,000."

Zhao Fusheng smiled: "That's no problem. Work hard, maintain the website's normal operation, and when registered users hit 300,000, I'll give you all bonuses."

Nothing in the world motivates employees more than bonuses. Zhao Fusheng could clearly feel that after he said that, the breathing of the young men quickened noticeably.

After all, they were still college students who hadn't graduated; they couldn't hide their thoughts. Who wouldn't want to earn more money, especially in this era when people around them were becoming increasingly materialistic, measuring everything by money?

Liking money is not something to be ashamed of.