They were all living in the same courtyard, and "Heh Yuntian" was shouldering a huge debt of 500 yuan. If he couldn't find a way to earn money, sooner or later he'd drag the rest of the Educated Youth down with him.
Now, seeing that "he" really could make money off manuscript fees, and quite a lot of it, pretty easily too, everyone secretly let out a sigh of relief.
"Exactly! I've been saying Old Heh is a talent. We're breaking our backs in the fields for work points, while he just waves his Pen and money falls into his lap!"
"Old Heh, teach us, will you? Let us earn a bit of pocket money too?"
"Hahaha, you? Back in school, an 800‑character essay prompt could almost kill you, and you still want to make money by writing?"
"I just want to give it a try. Trying isn't against the law!"
The other Educated Youth chatted and joked; some were envious, some jealous, some tempted.
Standing in the crowd, Zhuoya's smile was still as calm as ever, but the hand in her pocket clenched hard.
