Chapter 68: The Most Lethal Display is the Invisible One

“At first, I thought your monthly income could match my daily earnings, but it turns out you can’t even come close. If I count it up, last month I made just over ten thousand, so that’s about three hundred a day. I figured you, selling your body at school, must be earning several times more than my wife, but you only make about eighty a day? You’re so young—if you went out for a month, you’d make much more than this, and with less effort. All you’d have to do is open your legs. Now you’re working just as hard as before, but on top of that, you have to teach. Why put yourself through this?” Shen Guodong shook his head with feigned sympathy.

It must be said, when it came to sharp-tongued mockery, no one could outdo Shen Guodong. Just moments before, Zheng Yangling had been wondering what he was about to say. But as his words landed, her entire face froze; what on earth was this man talking about? She found it hard to accept. Shen Guodong was clearly spouting nonsense, yet he spoke as if he knew everything. That was the hardest part to swallow—he made his twisted logic sound plausible.

She really was selling her body, only with the added title of “teacher,” earning less than the women in the red-light district. Unconsciously, a sense of sorrow welled up in Zheng Yangling’s heart: she had accompanied the school and the higher-ups time and again, spending at least four or five nights a week in their beds, yet she hadn’t gained a single real benefit.

“Over ten thousand a month?”

“That can’t be possible! Who makes that kind of money? That’s the income of the rich.”

“He’s probably just bragging. How could that be? If getting rich was so easy, why would he still be here?”

“Riding around on a rusty old bicycle, all talk—claiming to be wealthy. Who would have thought Teacher Liu would end up with a husband like this? It’s hard to understand.”

Many people began to talk at once. Clearly, almost no one believed Shen Guodong’s words. At that moment, he looked at the people before him with eyes full of contempt and ridicule.

To everyone present, becoming a “ten-thousand-yuan household” was an unattainable dream. Many had made it their life’s ambition, yet Shen Guodong claimed to earn that in a single month! How could that be? Many felt insulted—as if their dreams had been stomped into the dirt. If becoming wealthy was so easy, why had they struggled for years without success?

“Do you hear that? You need people to actually believe your words. You’re bragging as if it’s true, but who would believe you?” the crowd chattered.

No one took Shen Guodong seriously.

Zheng Yangling, who had almost started to doubt herself under Shen Guodong’s jeers, felt the clouds lift as the crowd began to mock him instead. The sun came out, the rain cleared—she felt herself again. She didn’t need to say anything more; her face was aglow with satisfaction.

“Guodong,” Liu Yueru called softly, instinctively. She didn’t say it outright, but her meaning was clear: stop talking nonsense. It’s one thing to boast at home, but saying such things in public is just asking to be laughed at.

But Shen Guodong simply looked at her and smiled. “It’s one thing if others don’t believe me, but even you doubt me?”

“I… I do believe you! It’s just—it sounds so unbelievable, I can’t bring myself to believe it completely,” Liu Yueru replied. Earning ten thousand a month—compared to her own eighty-something yuan salary—how many lifetimes would it take to reach that sum? It was a number she, as a teacher, had never dared to dream of.

“Just admit it. I have no interest in playing your little game of make-believe. No one here is a fool—who would believe you?” Zheng Yangling sneered, once again belittling Liu Yueru in front of all the students’ parents. She wanted to see if this woman could handle humiliation as calmly as before.

Time and again, she found fault with Liu Yueru, determined to trample her completely, as if only by doing so could she achieve the ultimate sense of superiority.

At that moment, Shen Guodong decided he no longer needed to hold back. Want to show off? He was more than capable. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bankbook, placing it in Liu Yueru’s hand.

“This is what I earned last month. Take it as pocket money.”

This was the ten thousand yuan Wang Zhongshan had given him, though Shen Guodong wasn’t foolish enough to use someone else’s account—he’d already transferred the money to his own card. He’d always planned to give Liu Yueru some money.

And he still had about a thousand left on him, more than enough for daily expenses. Plus, with the big contract he’d landed with Fengtian Steel, his future income would be substantial—bonuses and all, likely not less than ten thousand. That was why Shen Guodong could show off so confidently.

“This—” Liu Yueru opened the bankbook suspiciously and, seeing the numbers, was utterly stunned: ten thousand and thirty-eight yuan. The balance was right there. She’d had thirty-eight yuan before; just yesterday, Shen Guodong deposited ten thousand.

She was completely shocked. Her family had really become what everyone envied—a “ten-thousand-yuan household.” Who could have imagined? The look of shock on her face needed no words.

Liu Yueru stood there, as if turned to stone—completely dazed. How had Shen Guodong done it? She could hardly believe it.

Yet for Shen Guodong, it was the simplest thing in the world. What was ten thousand yuan?

“Why are you doing this—don’t you know you shouldn’t flaunt your wealth? Hurry and put it away!” Liu Yueru said nervously, glancing at all the people around them. What if someone tried to rob them? She seemed to forget that you need a password to withdraw money from a bankbook—without it, it was useless.

As for the troublemakers, Shen Guodong didn’t spare them a thought. That’s why he dared to show off so openly; he had nothing to fear.

“It’s just ten thousand yuan, a small sum. No need to get so worked up.” Shen Guodong smiled.