A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

After finishing his shift in the early hours of the morning, he sat by the bar drinking water, holding his cup with both hands, quiet and still, like a middle school student doing his homework.

Fu Yan walked over and sat down opposite her.

"It's early morning, right?"

"Hmm." She was a little nervous and subconsciously sat up straight.

"Relax, I won't check your homework."

She paused for a moment in the early morning, then smiled—her smile was very faint, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly and then disappeared, like a rabbit peeking out and then shrinking back.

"Your voice is very good," Fu Yan said.

"Thank you, Boss Fu."

"I'm not just being polite, I'm telling the truth. With a voice like yours, it's a shame you're not studying vocal music professionally."

She lowered her head in the early hours and stirred the water in her glass: "I want to learn too, but my family doesn't support it... I can't afford to learn it on my own."

Fu Yan did not ask any further questions.

He knew what lay behind the words "can't afford it"—Yanjing Foreign Languages ​​Institute was a public university, and the tuition wasn't expensive, but vocal training courses were anything but cheap. One-on-one lessons cost at least three or four hundred yuan per session. Eight lessons a month would cost over three thousand yuan, which was far beyond the means of a freshman.

"Let's focus on singing the songs at the bar first," Fu Yan stood up. "We can talk about the rest later."

"Mm." Ling Chen nodded and watched Fu Yan walk back to her corner.

She watched Fu Yan's back—a man in his early thirties, wearing a dark gray turtleneck sweater, walking at a leisurely pace, like all the other shopkeepers on the street.

But she always felt that this person was not as simple as he seemed on the surface.

A bar owner would subconsciously tap his fingers on the table to judge the rhythm when listening to someone sing—something that ordinary listeners wouldn't do.

Without thinking much about it, she finished the water in her cup, packed her things, and prepared to go back to school.

There's another intensive French reading class at 8 a.m. tomorrow. If you're late, Ms. Ma will make you stand at the back of the classroom to listen to the lesson—that's Ms. Ma's traditional routine, and the whole class knows it.

As I walked out of the bar in the early hours of the morning, I glanced back at the neon sign at the entrance—the words "Homecoming" were lit up in the night, their warm yellow light reflecting on the blue brick wall, creating a very peaceful atmosphere.

She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and walked towards the bus stop.

In March, the wind in Yanjing was still cold.

But for some reason, she felt that the wind wasn't as cold as it had been the past few days.

……

Zhang Fan's call came without warning.

Fu Yan was nestled under the grape trellis in the courtyard, basking in the sun with his legs crossed. Beside him was a glass of chilled plum juice that Sister Zhou had just brewed, still glistening with water droplets. The weather in Yanjing in March was still cold, but at midday, the sun felt warm and comfortable on his face.

"The new company has been registered, and the headquarters will be located in Shanghai."

"Shanghai?" Fu Yan pressed the cup of plum juice against her face; it felt cool and comfortable. "That's fine. I have no objection if people in finance flock there."

"You need to sign the contract in person. Fly over tomorrow."

"So urgent?"

"Urgent? It's been over a month and you still call it urgent? Forget it, come on over! Some friends here want to see you." Zhang Fan paused for a moment, then lowered his voice, "Oh, right, there's something else—I ordered a car for you, a Ferrari 599GTB, it's already at sea, shipped from Italy, it should arrive at Tanggu Port in about half a month, you can pick it up yourself."

Fu Yan paused for a moment, then laughed: "So you feel bad about ripping me off? Heh, even a skinflint like Zhang has his moments of regret!"

"In your hometown dialect, get lost!"

"Why did you suddenly decide to give me a car? Why not a watch or something?"

"Your watch is enough to open a shop, why would I give it away? It's mainly because I heard you say last time that you have a Land Rover and an Audi A8 in Yanjing, which doesn't match your wealth at all." Zhang Fan said this in a casual tone, like he was giving away scallions when buying groceries. "Alright, that's enough. Don't be late for your flight tomorrow morning."

After hanging up the phone, Fu Yan called out into the room, "Lin Xiaochen, we're going to Shanghai tomorrow, pack your things."

Lin Xiaochen peeked out from the east wing, a pen still clutched in her hand: "Where are you going?"

"Let's sign the contract." Fu Yan thought for a moment, then added, "You'll be in charge of handling things at the new company from now on. Today is the official handover."

Lin Xiaochen nodded, didn't ask any more questions, and turned to go back to her room to pack her things.

Fu Yan leaned back in his chair, drank half of his plum juice, and suddenly remembered something—the last time he went to Yanjiao Manor to see Zhang Fan and the others, he wore the shirt that Xu Wenshu had picked out for him. This time he was going to Shanghai to see even more people. Should he... never mind, he couldn't afford to lose face.

……

The next morning, Zhao Gang drove his A8 to take the two to the Capital Airport.

Lin Xiaochen sat in the back seat with a folder spread out on her lap. Inside were the new company's registration documents, equity agreements, and a shareholder list that Zhang Fan had sent in advance. Fu Yan glanced at it and closed it—he had a bad habit of not looking at the details before signing contracts, and not looking at them afterward, since he had legal counsel.

Fu Yan slept the entire flight, while Lin Xiaochen reviewed documents the whole way. As they were about to land, Fu Yan groggily woke up, turned her head to look out the window, and saw that Shanghai was shrouded in a gray haze, just like Beijing, where the weather wasn't good.

"Nervous?" Fu Yan asked.

"It's alright." Lin Xiaochen closed the folder. "I'm just afraid of embarrassing you."

"Don't worry, you won't be the one to suffer any shame."

Lin Xiaochen didn't reply, but her lips twitched slightly; it was hard to tell if it was a smile.

……

Zhang Fan's people were already waiting at Hongqiao Airport. A black minivan took them directly to Lujiazui. The new company occupied an entire floor in the Shanghai World Financial Center, all glass and steel structures, cold and impersonal, completely different from Zhang Fan's Yanjiao Manor.

The contract signing was quick, but Fu Yan felt a headache coming on after flipping through just two pages of the thick stack of documents. He simply had Lin Xiaochen read the terms aloud one by one while he listened with his eyes closed. When the text read "Investment amount of five hundred million US dollars, accounting for 40% of the shares," Fu Yan opened his eyes, picked up a pen, signed it, and then threw the pen away.

"Is that enough?"

"Alright." Zhang Fan put the contract away, nodded to Lin Xiaochen, and said, "Ms. Lin, we'll be dealing with each other a lot in the future."

Fu Yan added from the side, "From now on, for anything related to the new company, contact her, not me."

Zhang Fan chuckled, neither confirming nor denying.

-

The banquet was held at a private club on the Bund. The entrance was small, but the interior was surprisingly spacious. When Fu Yan arrived, there were already seven or eight people sitting in the private room, which was filled with smoke, and cold dishes were laid out on the table.

Zhang Fan introduced them one by one, and Fu Yan shook hands with each of them.

Jack Ma stood up first, his eyes narrowed into slits with a smile, and immediately patted Fu Yan's arm: "President Fu, you're the first person to short 17 billion US dollars of subprime mortgages and still get away unscathed. I've heard that everyone in the industry is talking about your story now."

"Mr. Ma, that was all luck, nothing to brag about." Fu Yan had worked on Wall Street and knew he couldn't pretend or back down in front of these people. "If we're really talking about ability, I can't compare to you internet tycoons who built your companies to their current size."

"Sigh..." Jack Ma waved his hand, "Luck is also a skill. There are plenty of lucky people, but I've never seen anyone make more than 17 billion US dollars in one go."

Ding Lei, who was peeling shrimp next to him, popped a mouthful into his mouth after finishing and mumbled, "President Fu, do you guys celebrate with steak and red wine every day in America?"

"I do have steak, but I don't drink red wine often. It's too astringent, I can't enjoy that kind of pleasure." Fu Yan sat down, picked up the menu and glanced at it. "American red wine isn't good. European wine is much better. I've had it a few times."

"Then why did you go back to China to open a bar?" Ding Lei became interested, finally finding a like-minded person who also didn't follow the conventional path.

"I don't open bars for drinking, I open bars for people to drink and chat with." Fu Yan smiled. "Drinking alone is just alcoholism, drinking with two or more people is socializing."

This remark made everyone at the table laugh.