Chapter 52: Are You Short on Money?
Zhang Yang didn't overthink it and patiently waited at the agreed location.
After some time, footsteps approached from behind.
He turned and was slightly surprised to see a striking figure a few steps away: a low-cut evening gown, a hint of pale skin at the chest that the dress couldn't fully conceal, and long, elegant legs in sheer stockings.
This mature, alluring woman was none other than Irene, the director of Aisha Fashion Weekly.
"Is that you?" Irene paused, instantly recognizing Zhang Yang.
This young man, full of potential, with a perfect body yet uninterested in a modeling career, was even working as a ride-hailing driver at night.
Normally, she could be cold and unapproachable with her subordinates, like an iceberg, but at that moment, seeing a young person who worked as a daytime print model and a night-time driver, striving hard, her gaze softened.
"Hello, Director Irene. We meet again," Zhang Yang greeted naturally. "Where's your car?"
"Oh, I'll take you there," Irene said, stepping ahead to lead the way. "By the way, Little Zhang, are you really short on money? Working as a driver at night, working so hard?"
"Yes, I am," Zhang Yang nodded without denying it.
Of course he was short. He needed to earn ten thousand yuan this month to reach twenty points, level up quickly, and eventually earn one hundred thousand a day to save up for a one-hundred-million-yuan river-view mansion. Could he not be short on money?
"I see," Irene said, a little puzzled. "Then why didn't you consider signing with our company during the day? I can't speak for everything, but the benefits after signing would be very generous."
"I have other plans. Print modeling is just a temporary transition," Zhang Yang casually explained.
"I understand. Everyone has their own goals. It's just a pity to pass up on your great conditions," Irene said regretfully. "How about this: the company has a few more print assignments. Are you interested? The pay can be discussed."
"Of course I'm interested," Zhang Yang said, delighted. "Thanks for looking out for me, Director Irene."
If he could get these shoots regularly, earning money would be fast, and he'd reach ten thousand yuan in part-time income before long.
"Good. Wait for my call then," Irene said with a smile, pointing to a white Maserati nearby. "Little Zhang, thank you."
Moments later, Zhang Yang sat in the driver's seat, driving steadily.
Irene reclined slightly in the back, glancing at Zhang Yang from time to time.
The young man's broad back, steady and focused driving, gave an inexplicable sense of security.
With the window half-open, the evening breeze brushed her face, bringing no chill, only comfort, and a subtle warmth in her heart.
After some time, they arrived outside a high-end apartment.
"Director Irene, we're here," Zhang Yang slowed down and looked back at her.
"So fast?" Irene realized, then said, "Find a place to park, thanks for driving so smoothly."
"Thanks should go to me," Zhang Yang said with a smile.
Irene smiled softly, admiring Little Zhang's diligence and effort, silently approving.
After a moment, the car was parked, and Zhang Yang prepared to leave.
He removed his foldable electric scooter, waved, and left smoothly.
"I'm off, Director Irene."
"Hey… be careful on your way back," Irene called out loudly until his figure disappeared down the street.
"That Little Zhang," she murmured, smiling. She gave a five-star rating without hesitation, and even tipped a little extra.
Later, Zhang Yang rode his scooter along the streets of Shanghai, feeling satisfied.
He didn't feel overly proud of himself for earning fifty thousand a day or think that doing part-time work was beneath him.
Not at all.
He never forgot the time he had been ordinary, nor did he intend to sever that part of his life completely.
So doing these relatively trivial part-time jobs now, earning through his own labor, brought him a unique sense of fulfillment and satisfaction.
Perhaps this was what the system wanted him to understand.
"Hmm? A tip?" His phone suddenly popped a notification.
Looking down, he saw a tip of five hundred yuan. The sender? Irene.
"Director Irene is really generous," Zhang Yang said, surprised.
With this, today's part-time earnings jumped nearly 2,500 yuan, progressing a quarter of the way toward his ten-thousand-yuan goal.
Grateful, Zhang Yang sent a message to thank her. Since he didn't have Irene's personal contact, he used the ride-hailing platform's chat.
Before going to sleep, he noticed another message from Irene: "Keep it up!"
The power of earning fifty thousand a day was real-he hadn't noticed in the past few days, but today his balance had grown by almost two hundred thousand.
During a rare weekend, Zhang Yang invited Bei Wei out. They first visited a well-known breakfast spot in Shanghai, then went straight to the 53rd-floor Cloud Restaurant in downtown Shanghai for Wang Pin steak.
Above the clouds, watching the bustling streets, the Huangpu River, and all of Shanghai, the city stretched out below them.
Zhang Yang ordered thinly sliced jade wagyu, Boston lobster pasta, and fig mousse. While waiting for the food, they enjoyed a relaxing weekend.
Soon, the dishes arrived.
Bei Wei enthusiastically took photos and posted them online.
It was normal for girls to document life. Zhang Yang wasn't in a rush; he waited patiently for her to finish.
Just then, Zhang Yang received a video call from his mother, Song Wenqin.
His parents worked efficiently.
During May Day, they had quickly secured a storefront, bought kitchen equipment, installed tables and chairs, and set up a sign. The opening was only a few days away.
"It opens in a couple of days. Your father is raring to go!" Song Wenqin said with a laugh.
Zhang Yang understood his father's excitement. Having worked for others most of his life, now finally becoming a boss, the feeling was unmistakable.
Soon, Zhang Yang's father, Zhang Zhaohai, appeared on screen.
His determined expression made him look ten or twenty years younger.
"Son, I'll work hard to grow this business. Hopefully one day, you can hold your wedding banquet in one of our hotels!" Zhang Zhaohai exclaimed.
His wife, Song Wenqin, elbowed him sharply.
"What are you saying? Wait until it's big, then hold your wedding banquet? Are you cursing your son to stay single?"
"Just kidding! Our son could never be single!" Zhang Zhaohai hurriedly defended.
Read the full book (450+ chapters) with faster updates and no ads at htt ps:// ravenarchives .com/book/my-life-after-listening-how-i-became-the-ultimate-male-god. Updates here may be irregular due to bulk upload limitations.