Trillionaire's Slice of Life

The articles I had written finally became tangible words one day, appearing before me.

It was the dream buried deep in my heart since publishing my first article in high school.

Today, ten years later, I had finally fulfilled my youthful wish.

Taking a deep breath, I then gently touched the book as if it were something incredibly precious, slowly turning the title page before becoming utterly engrossed in its contents.

Each article here, even every single word, represented my own efforts; the collection began with my first article published in freshman year, due to its sentimental value, so I placed it at the very beginning.

Even now, ten years later, I still remembered the stir in my heart when I received my first payment for an article.

I savored the thoughts of my younger self while writing this article, the corners of my mouth curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

This article was actually a confession letter to the girl who sat next to me in high school: a cute girl with big braids, deep black eyes, and charming little canines that showed when she smiled.

I could no longer recall the specific features of that girl, but I remembered clearly those sharp little canines...

Regrettably, even after writing this confession, I lacked the courage to give it to her, and in the end, I sent it to a magazine, hoping that one day she would discover it by chance and realize my feelings.

Looking back at myself from that time, I couldn't help but find it amusing, yet also filled with a complex emotion that was hard to articulate.

After finishing the first article, I was about to turn the page when a middle-aged man wearing glasses suddenly appeared nearby.

The man was also browsing the shelf in front of us; I took a particular look at the fourth row, feeling a sudden sense of anticipation.

Would others enjoy my articles if they saw them?

I unconsciously stepped back to clear the space in front of me. Though I continued to hold my book, my peripheral vision was fixed on the man selecting books.

As he sifted through book after book, row after row, my eyes widened when his gaze rested on the fourth row.

Holding my breath, I watched the middle-aged man intently. My heart sank when his eyes swept over my collection without stopping, and I let out a long sigh.

The man looked back at me curiously, but apparently not finding the book he was interested in, he turned and left.

As I was about to focus back on my book, my pocket suddenly rang with a shrill phone tone, which seemed particularly jarring in the quiet bookstore. I immediately set the book down and pulled out my phone, not even glancing at the caller ID before answering.

Not wanting to disturb others, I crouched down quietly and whispered,

"Hello."

"Hello, Mr. Chu."

The voice on the phone was pleasant but not one belonging to familiar people like Zhan Bingxue or Qin Zixuan, yet it seemed somewhat recognizable. Chu Mo hesitated before asking softly,

"May I ask who this is?"

"Mr. Chu, this is Ru Yu. We just met last night. Surely you haven't forgotten so soon."

Chu Mo frowned slightly as he racked his brain, but couldn't come up with an answer immediately.

The girl on the phone didn't receive a response and sounded disappointed, then added with a slight dejection,

"Ru Yu from Tianxiang Garden's ninety-fifth floor."

At that mention, a breathtaking face emerged in my mind, and I said with realization,

"Oh, it's you... How did you get my number? Wait, is there something you need from me?"

Indeed, she was one of the nine servants at Tianxiang Garden; if I remembered correctly, this girl named Ru Yu was a top student from Shui Mu University. Last night, when I discussed charity donations with Cao Renyi and other magnates, she had testified for him.

I remembered her somewhat but didn't understand why she would be looking for me.

She was obviously prepared, and as soon as I finished speaking, her voice, pure as a bell, reached my ear.

"In order to serve top-tier wealthy clients, we have some basic information about our guests, including contact details.

As for why I'm contacting you, I wanted to discuss the matter of donations. Mr. Chu, didn't you donate ten billion to Mr. Cao's One Yuan Foundation last night? I feel there are some flaws in how the foundation operates, so I was hoping to report them to you in person."

I frowned slightly and replied gently,

"Couldn't you discuss this directly with Cao Renyi? Mr. Cao values the One Yuan Foundation highly, and if your suggestions are sensible, he should take them into account."

After my words, the voice on the other side replied meekly,

"It's precisely because Mr. Cao takes the One Yuan Foundation so seriously that the opinions of a minor person like me carry no weight. Besides, Mr. Chu, you are our major boss. It makes sense for me to report issues to you and then have you relay them to Mr. Cao. Your next journey awaits at empire

That's the proper procedure."

After a moment of silence and realizing it wasn't convenient to talk more in the library, I whispered,

"I'm at the Upwards Bookstore on Hui Shui Road. Come find me here."

Once the call ended, I stood up, musing over the conversation.

A moment later, my lips curled into a wry smile,

"These young girls certainly don't lack creativity."

Pocketing my phone and picking up the book again, my gaze returned to the words before me, and I became calm and undisturbed once more.

Time always flies when one immerses themselves in something. Eventually, feeling my legs grow numb, I stood and stretched my stiff limbs, only to realize I had read nearly half the book without knowing it.

When I looked up, I was startled to find a graceful figure had appeared beside me at some point.

My eyes had just swept over the girl when I noticed the originally sparsely populated essay section was now densely packed with dozens of readers.

Without exception, although they each held a book, their gazes intermittently strayed to the graceful figure facing me.

My attention returned to the girl named Ru Yu, who also held a book, its title page clearly labeled (Chu Mo's Short Story Collection).

A flicker of anticipation in my eyes, I raised my eyebrows slightly and asked softly,

"How do you find the book?"