Zhong Qi finally looked up at the person who came in. He put down the files in his hand and picked up Gu Qinglan's information. As he saw the "Beta" mark in the gender section, he was momentarily captivated by the talent section which stated that she could eat five bowls of rice in one go. He looked at Gu Qinglan with a slight smile, causing her to feel slightly embarrassed by his laughter. So, it turns out that the CEO of AL is not as serious as he seems? He's quite approachable.

The other party didn't ask anything and just let me out. This is not a good sign.

Gu Qinglan let out a sigh. All the money in the bank card was used to buy inhibitors for him. He originally thought that the job as a bodyguard would be easily obtained, but now it seemed like it had all gone down the drain.

He made a phone call and said, "Uncle Kun, do you still need people tonight?"

In the underground boxing arena, screams and jeers resounded one after another. The participants in the ring were surrounded by swaying overhead hanging lights. There was no airflow in the stuffy space, except for the gusts created by the punches landing squarely on flesh. Gu Qinglan's breath seemed a bit unsteady, with sweat streaming down his forehead. His opponent was already sprawled on the ground, but he wasn't faring any better - there were wounds on his chest and hands as well.

"Three thousand yuan plus an additional one thousand yuan as a reward for winning, totaling four thousand yuan, deducting another seven hundred yuan as water expenses, leaves three thousand three!" Uncle Kun handed him the money.

"Uncle Kun, do you still need people tomorrow night?"

Uncle Kun held a cigarette between his fingers and said, "You're dreaming. Once those bastards find out you're an O, you're finished."

"I took the medicine, so I won't be discovered."

Uncle Kun waved his hand.

"Maybe I'll have a job tomorrow," Gu Qinglan said with a hint of reluctance.

"Do you have a job? Do you have children?" Uncle Kun exhaled a large cloud of smoke, his mouth crooked at the corner. "You look pretty good, find a rich person to hook up with."

Gu Qinglan vigorously shook the clothes stained with blood in her hand, causing dust to scatter. The dusty air made Uncle Kun, who had chronic bronchitis, cough continuously, gasping for breath. "...Cough, cough. You stinky brat!"

Gu Qinglan has already left.

He walked along the road, counting his money. After deducting two months of rent and the cost of purchasing inhibitors, there simply wasn't enough. His arm was in intense pain, so he flicked it twice, inadvertently sending several bills flying. The wind roared past, and Gu Qinglan hurriedly rushed forward to catch the money. Unfortunately, the last bill ended up drifting towards a black sedan parked nearby. The car window had a small gap, and the money slipped inside.

Through the glass, Gu Qinglan faintly saw a red ticket inside, and she couldn't help but feel heartbroken: "Sss!" she exclaimed.

Gu Qinglan was feeling discontented. Unexpectedly, the car's window rolled down, startling him.

In the pitch-black darkness where no one was present, suddenly a slightly hoarse voice sounded, saying, "Take it yourself."

Gu Qinglan followed the sound and saw a man sitting in the back seat. At this moment, the starry sky scene appeared on the car roof, reflecting the extraordinary aura of the man with its mesmerizing and condensed colors. His temperament was even more imposing, but his appearance was unclear. From the suit outlined by the scent of money, Gu Qinglan could tell that this was a person who couldn't be provoked.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take out that portrait of Chairman Mao. As he extended his hand, it felt as if he was reaching into a different dimension, with a chilling breeze and the scent of money.

"...Thank you." Grandpa Mao held him tightly in his hand.

When he came home, Gu Yulan was unexpectedly not there. Gu Qinglan didn't think too much about it, and simply treated his wound before lying down to sleep. For some reason, ever since the interview, he had reignited a flame for a damp life. Perhaps it could be said that ever since there was certain someone's pheromone inside him, his mood had slightly become more peaceful and optimistic.

The vague writer once vaguely said that vague time heals vague wounds.