I Want To Marry My dad, Not My Uncle - Chapter 3

“As long as you have a plan,” Jizuo said, very familiar with the process. “Once the items are offloaded, how much are you keeping? What are you going to buy?”

Xingchen replied, “I will keep half. I can handle the gear myself.”

Jizuo exclaimed, “Oh, ho! Are you planning to go all in? My god, if you actually go all in, forget 150,000 in ten days; 1.5 million in ten days is possible.”

It was not that Xingchen intended to go all in in the way Jizuo meant; it was simply that “Old Money” types like Vincent were not easily fooled. If it were a typical situation, Xingchen would package himself accordingly. If the benefactor were a second-generation rich kid, he would act like a self-made entrepreneur. If the benefactor were uncultured, he would act like a highly educated intellectual. If the benefactor were a businessman, he would pose as an artist.

Benefactors usually showered him with dollars, not feeling like they were being milked, but rather that it was a normal romantic investment, even feeling honored that Xingchen chose them. But now, as a down-and-out international student, Xingchen had to appear inferior, so he had to bridge the class gap between them as quickly as possible. After all, why would a top-tier billionaire date a waiter? The fastest way to bridge that gap was through his exterior.

At the break of dawn, the notification sound of a phone transfer rang out. Xingchen groggily reached for his phone; Jizuo had transferred 600 dollars. After the luxury items were sold at a deep discount and Jizuo’s commission was deducted, that was all that remained.

Xingchen went to the largest second-hand market after getting ready. Vincent had good taste and wore custom-made clothing, so he would not like a nouveau riche style. The second-hand market was chaotic, like centuries of items piled together. Xingchen dove into the clothing section, eventually finding two well-cut shirts and a pair of small sheepskin leather shoes. They were size 39, which was why they were cheap. The items cost 78 dollars in total, and Xingchen headed to the city’s most luxurious shopping street.

He ignored the Hermes and Gucci stores, walking straight into a quiet boutique. The shop assistant, seeing Xingchen’s cheap clothes, took a step back in disgust but maintained a polite smile. When Xingchen asked for a specific handkerchief from the brand D. Porthault, which specialized in high-end cotton and linen home goods, the assistant watched him closely as he paid, as if expecting him to steal it. Xingchen did not bother to look at the assistant, paid for the item, threw the packaging on the counter, and stuffed the crumpled handkerchief into his pocket.

Xingchen then went to a dry cleaner, borrowed a sewing machine, and adjusted the stitching on his shirts to look more high-end. After spending every cent of the 600 dollars, he went to work.

At the restaurant, the older employee who had been training him noted, “Why do you look so handsome today?” Thanks to the right cut and fabric, Xingchen, already lean and tall, looked like he had moved up a social tier, especially after he tightened his vest by two inches to emphasize his waist.

The older employee, Annie, was a young Asian woman who had been complaining about a Latin American colleague who often engaged in racial condescension and made things difficult for them. When the Latin American employee came into the break room complaining about a creepy customer and tried to push the task of serving him onto Xingchen, Annie tried to block her, but Xingchen volunteered to do it instead. He told the girl, “It is fine, I will go next time. Mr. Vincent should be here soon; why do you not serve him instead?”

The girl was delighted and rushed off to serve Vincent. Sure enough, as soon as she approached, she accidentally spilled a full cup of coffee all over Vincent’s warm-brown coat. The restaurant went silent as everyone watched. Xingchen immediately rushed forward with the handkerchief to clean the mess. Vincent grabbed Xingchen’s thin wrist, noticed how tender his skin was, and eventually took the handkerchief to finish cleaning himself.

Later, Xingchen knocked on the bathroom door where Vincent was cleaning up. He acted a bit flustered, taking responsibility for the incident and claiming he had experience with cleaning clothes. Vincent, who was currently just in his shirt and vest, revealing his powerful shoulders and arms, eyed Xingchen and asked, “You do not look like you lack money; why are you working here?”

Xingchen lowered his head and replied, “My father remarried, and I was cut off.”

Vincent then used his phone to transfer 1,000 dollars via Zelle to Xingchen. When Xingchen asked why, Vincent replied, “Consider it me buying that handkerchief.” When Xingchen tried to refuse, Vincent leaned in, his shadow looming over him, and said, “Consider it buying safety for my next meal.”

After Vincent left, Xingchen called Jizuo. “How is it? Did you find anything?”

Jizuo replied, “I have never seen anyone so cautious. The account he transferred money from is new, the email is new, and it is linked to an anonymous prepaid card. He is so cautious I cannot find a single opening. Who exactly is he defending against?”

Xingchen lit a cigarette, letting the mint sting his nose. “He is defending against someone like me.”

Jizuo asked, “He discovered you?”

Xingchen replied, “Not necessarily. Maybe he just thinks being with me is unlucky. Do not Chinese people have a superstition about that?”

When Jizuo asked what he planned to do next with only eight days remaining, Xingchen extinguished his cigarette and said two words: “Seduction.”