Chapter 102 - 92: A Beautiful and Wealthy Young Woman, a Source for a Gun?

Fang Zhen was already familiar with the routine—it was pure relaxation. Xia Siwei, on the other hand, seemed to be here for the first time. She found it novel, and she was apparently quite sensitive, letting out a soft yelp with every press.

"This girl can’t take much pressure. I’ll go a little easier," the technician said.

Fang Zhen made casual conversation with Xia Siwei.

"Judging by your demeanor and the way you talk, you don’t seem like you grew up here in Xiahai. You seem more like an overseas student who just came back to the country," Fang Zhen asked while enjoying his massage.

"Yeah, my family is originally from Xiahai, but I went abroad in middle school. I lived with my mom in America. I did high school and college in America too. I’m one of those ’study-abroad kids,’ still getting used to life back home," Xia Siwei said.

"Heh," Fang Zhen found that quite interesting.

Xia Siwei had called herself a "study-abroad kid." It was a fairly popular term recently, and many overseas students used it to poke fun at themselves. It seemed she had a relaxed attitude and could take a joke.

Fang Zhen suddenly thought of something.

Guns were rampant over in America, and he’d always wanted to get his hands on one, but he had no reliable channels.

’Could Xia Siwei have access to such a channel?’

"A lot of people in America play around with guns, right? Have you ever tried it?" Fang Zhen asked.

"I’ve shot a few times. One of my high school classmates’ family owned a gun shop. But why the sudden question?" Xia Siwei found it a little strange.

"Haha, just curious. It’s interesting," Fang Zhen laughed, changing the subject.

"Your family went to America, so why didn’t you stay there? Did you just graduate?" he asked.

"No, no, I’ve already been working for three or four years," Xia Siwei explained.

Fang Zhen was a bit surprised to hear that.

’This Xia Siwei only looks like she’s twenty-two or twenty-three. How has she been working for three or four years? She doesn’t look old enough.’

"I know it’s a bit sudden to ask about age, and you don’t have to answer if you find it offensive."

"How old are you? I just get the feeling you’re a recent graduate."

Fang Zhen asked.

"Oh, I’m twenty-three, about to turn twenty-four. You’re asking about the three or four years of work, right?" Xia Siwei said. "I went to the University of Pennsylvania Wharton School. But I used AP credits from high school and also took summer courses, so I was able to accelerate my studies and graduate at twenty. After that, I sent out my resume and got into an investment bank in Xiangjiang."

"I worked in Xiangjiang for over three years, almost four, and then I quit."

"Now that I’m back in Xiahai, I just want to completely relax and have fun for a year. I was too exhausted before. Besides, I’m pretty lost right now and don’t know what to do next."

Fang Zhen was a little astonished.

’If Xia Siwei’s resume is for real, she’s seriously impressive.’

Fang Zhen knew a few overseas students; there were several of these so-called "study-abroad kids" among his classmates, so he had a general understanding of the group.

There was a stereotype about overseas students—that they were all out there drinking, partying, and having wild orgies, that their lives were a mess. But that was really just a stereotype.

It wasn’t that such people didn’t exist, but they were a minority. They were usually the ones with no ambition or goals, from especially wealthy families. And even within that group, the ones who were truly that wild were few and far between.

The majority were just normal students, or rather, normal people. They went to class, studied, and some, who wised up early, focused on making money. Their lives were actually quite boring. There was also a large contingent who couldn’t adapt to the foreign culture and only hung out in Chinese circles, with very narrow social lives. The most they’d do was go to a bar for a drink.

In reality, a bar overseas was no different from a barbecue skewer stand in Xia Country.

That’s just how it is. There isn’t that much craziness going on; most people are just ordinary people.

Then there was another small portion who were true elite students, completely devoted to their studies.

Xia Siwei’s resume, though, was absolutely explosive. Fang Zhen didn’t know much about America, but he had heard of the Wharton School of Business. It seemed to be a school whose finance programs were even stronger than those at places like Harvard and Yale.

If Xia Siwei could graduate at twenty, she was ridiculously impressive.

And to get straight into an investment bank in Xiangjiang right after graduation meant her resume and internship experience must have been more than just good-looking.

Investment banks in Xiangjiang were famous for their high salaries. As long as you could get in, even for an entry-level position, making one or two million Hong Kong dollars a year was pretty normal.

If Xia Siwei had worked there for three or four years, it would be normal for her to have saved five or six million.

In Xiahai, that would make her a bona fide rich girl, a member of the propertied class.

"Investment banks are hard to get into, right? And the pay is great. So why did you quit?" Fang Zhen asked.

"Yeah, the salary was really good, but the pressure was also immense. Every day after work, I had to take the bus home at one or two in the morning. I was often the only person on it, and when the lights flickered, it felt just like a classic horror movie. I was always scared on the ride home," Xia Siwei said.

"Also, I earned a lot, but I wasn’t very happy. The only happy days of the month were the one or two when I got paid. The rest of the time was no different from being at war."

"The work environment wasn’t great either. I don’t mean office politics—we never had the time or energy for that, we were too paralyzed from exhaustion just doing our actual jobs. I’m talking about the culture of comparison."

"I never used to wear designer brands; I just wore whatever was comfortable. But you couldn’t do that working in Xiangjiang. If I didn’t buy bags or clothes from brands like Gucci, Dior, or Hermès, or use high-end perfume, my colleagues would look down on me. It wasn’t my imagination; it was a blatant, in-your-face kind of contempt. So, whether I liked it or not, I had to follow the trend and buy them."

"Working in Xiangjiang was physically and mentally exhausting. I felt like I was going to get depressed if I kept going, so I quit and came back to Xiahai."