6: Chapter 6: 100,000 Yuan Received! Shared Bikes and the 80,000 Yuan Divine Chair

Fang Jiming slept the night in the bachelor dormitory assigned to him by the school.

The dormitory was the innermost room on the first floor of the staff building, measuring just over ten square meters, and contained an iron-frame bed, a tin wardrobe, and a desk.

The window didn't close tightly, and there were so many mosquitoes at night that he almost slept with the quilt pulled over his head.

At six in the morning, he was woken up by his phone vibrating.

China Construction Bank sent him a text message.

"Your savings card ending in 8848 has received a deposit of 100,000.00 RMB. Current balance: 110,125.50 RMB."

Fang Jiming's hand trembled, and he nearly rolled off the bed.

One hundred thousand.

The system actually gave him one hundred thousand.

Yesterday, when he received ten thousand, he thought the system might just be toying with him, but with one hundred thousand now firmly in his account, he finally truly believed that this thing was for real.

He rolled over in his quilt, his excitement chasing away any remaining sleepiness.

What could he do with one hundred thousand yuan?

He could buy a used car, rent a nicer apartment, or even go to the city center for a meal; he could do anything.

But as Fang Jiming lay in bed thinking for five minutes, what appeared in his mind was that broken chair from yesterday that had made his back ache after only sitting for half an hour.

And that leaking ceiling.

He had already spoken to Vice Principal Sun Yaozu about the ceiling, but it was useless, so he would have to find a way to deal with it himself.

But the chair issue could be solved first.

He threw off the quilt, washed his face, put on yesterday's wrinkled white short-sleeve shirt and black sweatpants, and finally stepped into a pair of forty-yuan canvas shoes before heading out.

There were three shared bicycles at the school gate; two were toppled over on the side of the road, and only one was still rideable.

Fang Jiming scanned the code to unlock it, hopped on, and pedaled toward the city center.

It was about six kilometers from No. 19 Middle School to the commercial district in downtown Nanqiao City, which took over twenty minutes by shared bicycle.

He pedaled while checking the navigation on his phone.

The largest furniture mall in Nanqiao City, called Jinding International Home Plaza, was located in the heart of the city center, and this five-story mall was filled with mid-to-high-end furniture brands.

Fang Jiming had never been to such a place before; after all, the sofa in his home was one his mother had picked up when their neighbors moved away.

Today was different.

Today, he had one hundred thousand yuan in his pocket.

He parked the shared bicycle at the main entrance of Jinding Plaza, right next to a row of gleaming Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs.

Fang Jiming's shared bicycle leaned crookedly against a Porsche Cayenne, making for a truly eyesore of a sight.

He pushed open the glass doors of the mall and walked inside.

The air conditioning hit him instantly, and the marble floor was polished so brightly it could be used as a mirror.

Fang Jiming walked straight to the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

The fifth floor was the office furniture zone. Before coming, he had checked online and found an exclusive store for an imported ergonomic chair brand, where the flagship model was priced at eighty-two thousand.

When the elevator doors opened, Fang Jiming stepped out.

The entrance to the specialty store was decorated with matte black metal and sophisticated lighting, which allowed each chair to be placed on its own individual display stand.

Fang Jiming pushed open the door and went in.

Inside the shop, there was only a young woman in her early twenties with a ponytail, wearing a black uniform skirt.

She heard the door open and looked up.

The girl's gaze swept over Fang Jiming from head to toe.

He was wearing a wrinkled white short-sleeve shirt and black sweatpants with fuzz on the knees, and the shoelace on his right forty-yuan canvas shoe was untied.

The smile on the saleswoman's face became noticeably thirty percent more polite and seventy percent colder.

"Hello, sir. Are you here to look at chairs?"

"Yes."

Fang Jiming walked straight to the display stand at the very back to examine the black ergonomic chair.

The backrest was made of carbon fiber, the seat cushion used a high-grade mesh fabric, the armrests were adjustable in twelve directions, and the base was made of aluminum alloy.

Fang Jiming sat on it to try it out.

Goodness.

The sitting experience was a complete difference between heaven and hell compared to that iron chair from yesterday.

He leaned back, feeling the lumbar support pressing perfectly against his spine, and as his whole body relaxed, he felt a soft, cloud-like comfort.

Fang Jiming felt so good he almost groaned out loud.

"How much is this one?"

He looked up and asked.

The saleswoman walked over and glanced casually at the label on the display stand.

"Sir, this is our flagship model, and the in-store experience price is 82,000 yuan."

She spoke the number very quickly, probably out of habit, and watched for the customer's reaction afterward.

Fang Jiming's expression didn't change.

"Card."

He replied briskly.

The saleswoman was stunned for a second.

"Sir, what did you say?"

"I said card."

Fang Jiming fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Can I scan a code?"

The saleswoman opened her mouth, looking at Fang Jiming's outfit and then at the phone in his hand.

There was actually a discount sticker from a pancake stand stuck to the phone case.

"Sir, this chair is 82,000. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Would you like to look at other styles? We have series that are more cost-effective and only cost over ten thousand."

Fang Jiming stood up from the chair and patted the armrest.

"No need to change, I'll take this one."

He opened his mobile banking app, went to the transfer page, and flashed the screenshot showing his balance of one hundred thousand.

After seeing that six-figure balance, the saleswoman's expression finally changed.

She quickly took the POS machine from behind the counter and handed it over with both hands, her posture ten times more respectful than before.

"Sir, please wait a moment, I'll write up the order for you."

Fang Jiming scanned the code and paid 82,000 yuan directly.

The voice prompt confirming the payment sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet shop.

The saleswoman's hand holding the POS machine was slightly trembling.

She had worked at this store for eight months and had seen all kinds of customers, but she had never seen a young man wearing forty-yuan canvas shoes come in and pay full price for an eighty-thousand-yuan chair.

After making the payment, Fang Jiming twisted his neck.

"Can you deliver?"

"Yes, sir. Just give me the address, and we can arrange delivery for this afternoon."

Fang Jiming gave the address for Nanqiao No. 19 Middle School.

As the saleswoman was writing on the receipt, her pen paused.

"No. 19 Middle School?"

"Yes."

"That's a school?"

"A high school."

The saleswoman looked up at Fang Jiming, her lips moving as if to speak, but no sound came out.

Her mind was likely racing, trying to figure out the identity of this man who wore cheap clothes, rode a shared bicycle, bought an eighty-thousand-yuan chair, and had it delivered to a run-down high school.

Fang Jiming didn't explain.

He signed the receipt, tucked it into his pocket, turned around, and walked out of the store.

When he reached the elevator, he heard the saleswoman on the phone behind him.

"Sis, you won't believe it, but a weird customer just came in. He was dressed like a student, walked straight to the flagship model, and paid the full price without even asking about the price."

"Eighty-two thousand, paid directly by phone."

"I don't know who he is, and the delivery address is a high school called No. 19 Middle School, which I checked, and it seems to be the worst school in the city."

"Yes, yes, yes, that run-down school you were talking about."

"I don't get it either; the world of the rich is just too outrageous."

Fang Jiming stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.

As the elevator doors closed, he glanced at his phone balance.

There was still 27,125.50 yuan left.

Eighty-two thousand had been spent, causing his balance to shrink instantly.

But Fang Jiming didn't feel a pinch at all.

Because another one million would arrive tomorrow.

He pedaled the shared bicycle quickly down the road, letting the autumn wind blow into his wrinkled white short-sleeve shirt.

Fang Jiming thought of something.

What expression would Teacher Wen Ruyan have when she saw this chair?

He couldn't help but touch his chin.