Circuit Breakers and Capital Flows
885 Words
"Cut the current! Now!" Yuan Shenglin's 6'2" frame blocked the voltage machine like a human firewall. The staff scrambled to terminate the simulated labor current zapping through Zhang Hongyu's body.
Zhang slumped forward like a marionette with cut strings, his hands trembling like a Chihuahua in a snowstorm. "Am I... am I gonna poop lightning now?" he whimpered, earning an eye-roll from Yuan.
Fifteen minutes later, the human puddle finally blinked awake. "Yuan... no, Dad... my spirit animal..." Zhang croaked, tears glistening with the dramatic flair of a K-drama protagonist.
"Save the pet names for your future cats," Yuan deadpanned. "So? Still think matching 'Mr. Mom' tattoos were cute?"
Before Zhang could answer, his girlfriend materialized wielding a selfie stick like Excalibur. "Say cheese, sweetie! Let's caption this 'How My Simp Survived v****a Bootcamp'!" The camera flash nearly triggered Zhang's PTSD.
"Babe... I need electrolytes, not content..."
"Not so fast!" She pounced like a t****k Karen spotting a clearance rack. "Now that you've felt our pain, you'll stop complaining when I max out your credit card, right?"
Yuan's patience evaporated faster than dry ice. "Let's audit this dumpster fire of a relationship: Two months of artisanal breakfasts. Luxury skincare 'gifts' that magically became hers. Even today's torture session came from his wallet!" He whipped out receipts like a courtroom lawyer.
Something inside Zhang snapped like overstretched mozzarella. "Give back my PS5! And the Swarovski necklace! And my dignity!"
The girlfriend turned sheet-white. "You can't take back gifts! That's illegal!"
"Tell that to Judge Judy!" Yuan tossed over his shoulder, already strolling out. "Later, suckers. My real job's tutoring a billionaire's daughter who actually says 'please'."
"Look who's back, Pretty Boy," Xu Ping drawled, crushing her cigarette into the Rolls-Royce's crystal ashtray. The An family chauffeur-s***h-housekeeper eyed Yuan Shenglin through the rearview mirror like a hawk assessing its prey.
"Afternoon, Goddess of the Steering Wheel." Yuan buckled up with exaggerated care. "By the way, what's the name behind this lethal charm? Xu...?"
"Xu Ping." She smirked, steering past gawking pedestrians. "Xu as in the i***t who married a snake spirit, Ping as in duckweed. Basic as instant noodles, right?"
Yuan quoted with a playwright's flourish. "A name's only basic if the person is. You? You've got that vintage Hollywood glam – bet you had suitors lining up like iPhone launches back in the day."
The forty-something woman snorted laughter. "Sweet-talker! No wonder Little Missy's glued to her textbooks these days. Twenty years younger, I'd wife you myself."
As they navigated Shanghai's chrome-and-glass jungle, Yuan glimpsed An Nuo's gilded cage looming ahead. "Serious question – why's a trust fund princess grinding calculus? If I were her, I'd be learning how to light cigars with hundred-dollar bills."
Xu Ping's smile faded. "She tried proper school once. Lasted three days before coming home sobbing – said the 'sisterhood' accused her of buying test answers."
"Ah, the female hive mind." Yuan nodded sagely. "United against patriarchy online, united against anyone prettier offline."
"Speaking from experience, Casanova?"
"Please. My last girlfriend thought 'boundaries' were county lines."
The Patriarch's Request
An Zheng's study smelled of sandalwood and unspoken expectations. The silver-fox patriarch examined Yuan like a flawed jade carving. "We're not paying you to teach quadratic equations."
"Shocking. I thought my rendition of 'Demolition Man' during last week's algebra session sealed the deal."
"An Nuo needs..." The tycoon struggled for words. "Practice being human. Last month she microwaved her iPhone because Siri 'sounded lonely'."
Yuan choked back laughter. "So I'm glorified life skills coach now?"
"Teach her to distinguish laundry detergent from bubble tea. The salary triples."
"Sir, I'd teach her to wrestle crocodiles for that rate."
The Princess and the Tutor
An Nuo's bedroom resembled a Marie Kondo fever dream – color-coded bookshelves, spotless floors, and the lingering scent of panic. The heiress sat ramrod-straight, today's nervous tic involving obsessive hair-smoothing.
"A-aft-afternoon!" She blurted, voice cracking like a prepubescent boy. "I didn't wait! I mean I waited but not long! I mean..."
Yuan dragged a Louis XV chair across marble floors. "Relax, Princess. I don't grade small talk."
Their calculus session unfolded like a ballet – An Nuo solving equations with neurosurgeon precision, Yuan lobbing encouragement like "Einstein wishes he had your derivatives game."
When she finally broached economics, Yuan couldn't resist. "Capitalism 101: Your dad's empire? Built on peasants like me working 996 schedules." He gestured at their gilt surroundings. "This chandelier? Powered by the tears of unpaid interns."
An Nuo's gasp turned into giggles. "That's horrible!"
"Truth often is." He spun her chair around. "Now, about that 'get rich' secret..."
The Transaction
Yuan leaned in, smelling her jasmine perfume and inherited guilt. "The recipe for wealth? Simple." His grin turned wolfish. "But it'll cost you."
"What...what do you want?"
"Three things." He counted on fingers. "One: Stop apologizing for existing. Two: Tell Xu Ping her smoky-eye look slays. Three..."
An Nuo held her breath.
"Next time someone bullies you?" Yuan tossed her a brass knuckle keychain. "Throw the first punch. I'll bail you out."
The heiress stared at the weapon like it might transmute into a frog. Outside, Xu Ping smirked at the security monitors. On the top floor, An Zheng approved a bonus payment.
And somewhere in the city, Zhang Hongyu finally learned to block his ex's number.
- Writer
