Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 196 You're So Bad

The sunlight at No. 12 Middle School is softer than that at No. 1 Middle School, shining on the old buildings in the old city and making the cracks on the walls very clear.

Song Huan sat on the bus, holding the list Zhou Shan had given her, flipping through it page by page.

The handwriting was neat and tidy, and the reason was written under each shop name.

This place has a good location, that place has a lot of foot traffic, this place has an easy-going owner, that place has delicious food and many repeat customers.

There's also an analysis of the advantages, listed one by one, like a key point note for an exam.

He closed the list and put it in his pocket.

The bus stopped in front of No. 12 Middle School.

Zhou Shan was already standing on the platform, carrying a backpack and holding a bottle of water, standing on tiptoe to look at the train.

Seeing Song Huan and Xiao Yunqing come down, she waved and ran over.

Have you seen the list?

"I've read it." Song Huan pulled the list out of her pocket and shook it. "It's very well written."

Zhou Shan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The three people walked along the streets of the old town.

The first shop was a milk tea shop, the third one on the left from the school gate. There was a line of seven or eight students at the door, clutching loose change.

Song Huan pushed open the door and went in. The boss was making milk tea and didn't even look up.

"What would you like to drink?"

Song Huan placed the contract on the counter. "Boss, I don't want any drinks, let's discuss a collaboration."

The food alliance of the nearby No. 1 Middle School has caused quite a stir, and even the owner of No. 12 Middle School has heard about it.

He looked up at the high school student in front of him and paused for a moment.

"Are you the one who makes those food vouchers?"

Song Huan nodded.

The boss put down his cup, picked up the contract, looked at it, and then glanced at Song Huan.

Without saying much, I picked up the pen and signed.

The second shop is a fried chicken shop located at the entrance of an alley. The location is a bit out of the way, but the aroma can be smelled from afar.

The owner was a chubby middle-aged man with oil stains on his apron, who was putting chicken wings into the oil pan.

Song Huan handed over the contract, and he glanced at it twice, then hesitated for a moment.

Xiao Yunqing then took out a stack of documents from her bag and placed them on the counter.

The data was printed on A4 paper, with tables and numbers on it.

The milk tea shop near No. 1 Middle School had a daily revenue of 800 yuan before becoming a franchisee, but 1,500 yuan after becoming a franchisee.

That fried chicken shop had a daily revenue of 600 before it became a franchise, but 1,100 after it became a franchise.

That stationery store had a daily revenue of 600 before joining the franchise, and 1,000 after joining.

The data is listed row by row, clearly and distinctly.

The chubby uncle stared at the few lines of numbers and tapped his fingers twice on the counter.

She looked up at Song Huan.

"real?"

Song Huan nodded.

"real."

The chubby uncle glanced at the numbers again, picked up the pen, and signed.

The third, the fourth, the fifth.

Along the way, some people were exhilarated, while others hesitated.

Hesitantly, Xiao Yunqing took out the document, presented the data, and stated the facts.

When someone was still unwilling to agree, Song Huan added, "After you join, your company will be given priority in the posters."

Which boss could resist such a temptation?

The boss gritted his teeth and signed it directly.

By the time the last company signed the contract, it was already dark.

The streetlights were on, casting an orange glow on the road.

Xiao Yunqing glanced at her watch; it was almost eleven o'clock.

All ten stores were acquired.

He leaned against the lamppost and let out a long sigh.

Xiao Yunqing stood to the side, stuffed the documents back into her bag, and zipped it up.

Zhou Shan stood opposite, gripping the straps of her schoolbag with both hands, her eyes bright, waiting.

Song Huan took a contract out of her bag and handed it to her.

"Zhou Shan, you're in charge of No. 12 Middle School from now on."

Zhou Shan took it and looked down at it.

The contract states that Zhou Shan has the management rights of the No. 12 Middle School Food Alliance, while Song Huan owns all of them.

The monthly salary is 2,000 yuan. The job is to contact merchants online, send out activity notices in QQ groups, and increase activity levels.

Poor management, deduct 1,500.

Zhou Shan looked up, her eyes brightening even more. "Two thousand?"

Song Huan nodded, "Two thousand."

Zhou Shan didn't ask any more questions and picked up the pen to sign.

After signing the contract, he stuffed it into his bag, waved to Song Huan and Xiao Yunqing, and ran away.

She walked quickly, her hair swinging behind her, hopping and skipping like a rabbit.

Xiao Yunqing watched her retreating figure and couldn't help but say something.

"You trust her that much to entrust the entire No. 12 Middle School to her management?"

It wasn't that she thought Zhou Shan was incompetent, but rather that entrusting a school to a girl with no experience felt a bit too risky.

Song Huan put her hands in her pockets and smiled.

"If Zhou Shan doesn't manage things well, it's written in my contract with her that if the management is poor, 1,500 will be deducted. Then I'll use that 1,500 to subsidize Chen Xu and Zhao Qihang. They have experience, so I'll have them come over and help on weekends."

He paused for a moment, then added, "If she manages it well, then giving her back two thousand is too little."

Xiao Yunqing's eyes widened, and she gasped.

"Song Huan, why do I have a feeling you're a shrewd businessman?"

Song Huan touched her nose. "Really?"

He felt that this was normal.

If Zhou Shan does a good job, she can do it; if she doesn't, someone else can take over.

Xiao Yunqing nodded, her tone becoming serious, "You have too many ulterior motives; I need to stay away from you."

Song Huan was both amused and exasperated.

The two walked out of the old town.

The streetlights lit up one by one, casting long shadows.

After walking for a while, Xiao Yunqing spoke again.

"What about the bank statement? It's due on Monday."

Song Huan blinked. "Want to know?"

Xiao Yunqing nodded.

Song Huan chuckled, "Want to know? Come to my house tomorrow, and I'll tell you."

Xiao Yunqing blushed, turned around and left on the spot, saying, "I don't want to know."

She walked quickly, her ponytail swaying under the streetlights.

……

The next day, there was still a knock on Song Huan's door.

He opened the door, and Xiao Yunqing stood there, holding a bag of steamed buns, her face expressionless.

"I came to see if you were dead."

"Then you can be happy, I'm not dead yet."

Song Huan stepped aside from the doorway, changed her shoes, and went inside.

The coffee table in the living room was covered with paper.

Bills, forms, and receipts were laid out one by one, like a street stall.

Xiao Yunqing placed the steamed buns on the table, picked up one of them and glanced at it.

The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

She thought he would use some clever method, but she never expected him to falsify the accounts.

Song Huan squatted down next to the coffee table, holding a pen in her hand, and was changing numbers on a form.

"You clearly earned 80,000, but you wrote 8,000 on this document?" Xiao Yunqing picked up another document, which had also been altered.

All expenses, including advertising costs, printing costs, commissions for Chen Xu and Zhao Qihang, and rebates for merchants, were listed in great detail...

The remaining eight thousand is the net profit.

Song Huan raised her head, a simple and unpretentious smile on her face. "The simpler the move, the more effective it is. Haven't you heard the saying, 'Even the best kung fu master is afraid of a kitchen knife'?"

He lowered his head and continued making changes. "Okay, stop standing there. Help me organize it and see if there are any omissions. Don't let anyone notice."

Xiao Yunqing was speechless, but she still sat down, picked up a bill, and began to check it.

The two people squatted on either side of the coffee table, one revising and the other reading, their fingers rustling as they turned the pages.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the brightly colored bills.

But in reality, falsifying accounts was only part of the plan.

……

On Sunday, the newspaper office was located on the third floor of an old building.

Song Huan pushed open the door and went in, with Xiao Yunqing following behind.

The young woman at the front desk looked up and asked who she was looking for.

Song Huan said he wanted to see the editor-in-chief. The young woman glanced at him, picked up the phone, dialed a number, said a few words, hung up, and pointed to the end of the corridor.

The editor-in-chief's office was small; a bookshelf occupied one wall, and newspapers and manuscripts were piled on the desk.

The editor-in-chief was a man in his fifties, wearing glasses and with gray hair, who was reading a manuscript.

Song Huan knocked on the door and went in, standing in front of the table and getting straight to the point.

"Editor-in-Chief, I'm a student from Jiangcheng No. 1 High School. Our school has produced an entrepreneurial genius who has formed a food alliance, allowing all students to enjoy discounts."

He placed a piece of paper on the table with a brief summary written on it. "This is the material about his deeds. Please take a look. If it's published, it will definitely be a sensation."

The editor-in-chief picked up the paper, looked at it once, and then looked at it again.

He looked up at Song Huan. "The person you're talking about, is it yourself?"

Song Huan smiled, "The editor-in-chief is brilliant."

The editor-in-chief laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I've heard of that food alliance at No. 1 High School. I never expected the person behind it to be right in front of me."

Song Huan took a half step forward. "Editor-in-chief, this entrepreneurial prodigy will also be donating to underprivileged students at the school on Monday. If you bring reporters to cover it, combining entrepreneurship with charity, the article will definitely be in high demand."

"Oh, right, this is a tip for your hard work." Song Huan took out a few red bills and tucked them into the calendar.

The editor-in-chief silently picked up the calendar on the table, glanced at it, and nodded after feeling that the day was indeed very suitable.

"Monday? Okay. I'll bring some men over."

Song Huan stood up and extended her hand.

"Thank you, Editor-in-Chief."

The editor-in-chief gave him a firm handshake. "You're welcome. We need good articles too, and we need good calendars even more!"

Song Huan immediately wanted to ask, "Who said giving a calendar as a gift is no longer acceptable? Isn't this perfectly useful?"

Xiao Yunqing stood to the side, watching this scene, dumbfounded.

As I left the newspaper office, the sunlight was just right, shining on the stairs, one step at a time.

Xiao Yunqing followed behind him and couldn't help but ask, "What is your purpose in doing this?"

Song Huan chuckled, "As long as my entrepreneurial endeavors and donations to impoverished students at the school are publicized, regardless of the impact, the school will be in a difficult position and won't easily take action against me for the time being."

Xiao Yunqing was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized. So that's how it is.

She looked at him for two seconds.

"You're so mean."

Song Huan smiled inwardly.

There's a saying that goes, "Women don't love men who aren't a little bad."