WRA CH6

Chapter 6: Checking Hubby’s Earnings Statement

Zhou Sicheng grabbed his phone with an outward air of absolute calm and stepped into the bathroom.

Xiang Zhen didn’t suspect a thing. After all, humans could never part with their phones when using the bathroom. Waiting on the bed, he watched the video draw to a close. The content creator tapped the desk with a small wooden mallet: “Follow me to become the perfect wife.”

Xiang Zhen promptly tapped “Follow” on this “Sister Wang.”

Auntie Guihua had bought Xiang Zhen a smartphone precisely so he could get accustomed to human society as quickly as possible.

For Xiang Zhen, going on the internet was purely for studying—whatever popped up on his feed, he learned.

Being a wife was an entirely new subject, something Xiang Zhen had never encountered before. Big data had clearly figured out he had a husband! It was already recommending Sister Wang to him!

He clicked open Sister Wang’s profile page. Her bio read:

[Everything you need to know: A wife’s secret to firmly grasping control of the household.]

Scrolling down, Sister Wang had posted hundreds of videos. The pinned one at the very top was titled: [Check Hubby’s WeChat Like This for a Laugh-Filled, Harmonious Household].

Xiang Zhen blinked slowly. Did he really have to learn this much?

He tapped the pinned video and began studying it frame by frame.

Inside the bathroom, Zhou Sicheng turned on the sink faucet to create ambient noise, then swiftly dialed his secretary’s number, whispering in a low voice: “Contact Feichi Hailing’s tech department. Set up a driver account under my name with a BYD model, and simulate a month’s worth of earnings statements. Immediately.”

Feichi Hailing was a ride-hailing app under the Zhoufu Group. Secretary Gao assumed the President was making a late-night check-in due to some critical crisis, so while still on the call, he immediately patched in Feichi’s tech department.

Feichi’s tech director felt like he was facing a formidable enemy, yet remained entirely baffled. Upon receiving the President’s ID, driver’s license, and auto insurance policy forwarded by Secretary Gao, he swapped the credentials straight into a backend test account.

“Simulate earnings?” a core technician whispered to the director. “Full-time driver? How high should the turnover be?”

The director pondered for a moment. With more and more unemployed people turning to ride-hailing, competition was fierce and per-ride earnings were falling. Compounding that, their competitors had recently ramped up driver subsidies to acquire new users, causing the daily turnover per driver on their platform to decline month-over-month. Naturally, a drop in performance wasn’t something the President should be seeing.

Playing it shrewd, the director said, “The simulated turnover should naturally reflect an ideal scenario.”

The technician instantly pulled the data of today’s top-earning driver on the leaderboard and generated a simulated record from it.

Zhou Sicheng patiently waited for the account to be generated, instructing Secretary Gao, “Later on, send over all the documentation required to register as a ride-hailing driver. I want a real account by tomorrow.”

Outside, Xiang Zhen was studying how to inspect WeChat, thinking to himself that it would be so much better if he could practice directly on his husband’s phone while watching the video. That way, he would surely memorize every single step.

Zhou Sicheng seemed to have been in the bathroom for an awfully long time. He had heard the sound of washing hands ten minutes ago, so why hadn’t he come out yet? Could he have fainted?

Xiang Zhen climbed out of bed worriedly, running barefoot to the bathroom door. “Hubby, are you alright?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I’m fine.”

Xiang Zhen: “Does your stomach hurt?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Mn.”

“I’ll boil some hot water for you.” Xiang Zhen switched on the electric kettle, dragged over a plastic stool, and sat right outside the bathroom door. “I’ll keep you company. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Humans were rather fragile after all. Xiang Zhen’s heart brimmed with concern.

Zhou Sicheng stared at his reflection in the mirror. Anyone who had raised a child knew that when a kid tripped and fell with no one around, they could tough it out and scramble back up on their own; but if a parent asked with concern, “What happened, baby?”, they would inevitably burst into loud tears.

Xiang Zhen’s tender concern made Zhou Sicheng feel sick even though nothing was wrong with him.

The elite education Zhou Sicheng had received since childhood was engineered to mold him into a cold-blooded capitalist, never permitting him to be swayed by cheap sentimentality.

Yet he was human, and how could a human not yearn for pure love? Still, Zhou Sicheng was surrounded by an impregnable fortress constructed of money; he was the very synonym for wealth itself. Everyone could see “Zhou Sicheng,” but no one could see the Zhou Sicheng behind those walls.

Living with Xiang Zhen had been a correct decision. Only by stepping out of those fortress walls could sunlight fall upon him.

Zhou Sicheng could have stayed moved for much longer, until the audio from Xiang Zhen’s video started playing aloud outside.

[A WeChat billing statement is the most transparent. Where your hubby went, what he spent money on, whether he bought one sundae at Mixue Ice Cream & Tea, or one for the mistress and one for himself…]

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

He opened WeChat, pulled up his transaction history, and deleted the 7,600-yuan bill from his meal with Fan Hao this month. Then there was the 30,000-yuan transfer from last month when he went mountain climbing and discovered a quaint little eatery at the foot of the mountain with delicious food but terrible decor—he had handed the owner thirty grand to renovate a private dining booth so he could dine there again on his next hike…

Zhou Sicheng had an estate manager, so the vast majority of his expenses never required his personal payment. He finished vetting the list in no time.

[If you open your hubby’s WeChat transactions and find no unusual spending, don’t celebrate too early! Next step: open WeChat Pay. There might be payment records here he forgot to delete!]

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Another round of frantic deleting.

Zhou Sicheng noticed several hefty charges originating from a small group chat, mostly made up of fellow corporate Presidents. During Chinese New Year, everyone had competed to shower the group with red packets, and out of social etiquette, Zhou Sicheng had sent some too, leaving behind a trail of reckless spending.

Red packets my ass. Zhou Sicheng wiped the group chat history clean.

[If the brothers on your hubby’s contact list all look clean and his group chats seem innocent, don’t rush. Tap ‘Start Group Chat’ and choose ‘Select an Existing Group.’ Everything will be clearly displayed from top to bottom in chronological order based on chat times!]

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Following the instructions, sure enough, that damned group chat popped right back up.

Zhou Sicheng left the group chat.

Xiang Zhen was very clever. He usually watched educational videos on double speed, and finding these steps easy enough, he bumped the speed up to 3x.

Consequently, Zhou Sicheng heard an even more urgent voice outside, setting an almost thriller-like atmosphere.

[Even if he exits the group chat, it can still be traced! Tap ‘Money’, select ‘Split Bill / Group Collection’, and at the very bottom, you can view the group collection history!]

Half-skeptical, Zhou Sicheng tapped into his group collection history, only to find a glaring entry sitting right there: [-50,000].

?

Zhou Sicheng felt utterly drained. How on earth did an entry he had zero recollection of pop up from such an obscure corner?

He glared at the bill initiator: [Huo Xuan].

Finally, he remembered. The year before last at an exhibition, Huo Xuan had crossed paths with an aloof college student whose parents were critically ill. It must have been love at first sight, yet Huo Xuan hadn’t even dared approach alone, instead awkwardly launching a group bill collection right on the spot under the guise of an “Inter-Enterprise Charitable Donation.”

Outside the door, Xiang Zhen couldn’t help but gasp in amazement: “You can even do that!”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Why wasn’t that ride-hailing account set up yet? For every minute of delay, Xiang Zhen was acquiring another lethal skill.

Standing nearly 1.9 meters tall, Zhou Sicheng was crammed into a single-square-meter bathroom, looking entirely unlike the titan who commanded the corporate world outside.

On one side of the door was his cohabiting partner undergoing continuous cognitive evolution; on the other was a technician practically grinding sparks out of his keyboard on an emergency rush job.

He really should just register a brand-new WeChat account.

Wait, no.

Zhou Sicheng closed his eyes. When did I ever agree to let Xiang Zhen check my WeChat in the first place?

Countless young couples got into fiery rows and broke up over whether they could check each other’s phones. Even couples who had been deeply in love for decades kept their privacy from one another.

Not to mention he and Xiang Zhen were merely cohabitants who had met only two days ago.

“President Zhou, the account is ready to log in!”

The very next second, Zhou Sicheng twisted open the doorknob. Looking like a man freshly released from prison, he snatched Xiang Zhen’s phone away: “Weren’t you going to look at the ride-hailing statements?”

Xiang Zhen: “Oh.”

The two returned to bed. Xiang Zhen suspected Zhou Sicheng’s stomach ache was caused by the chilly rainy weather—he had been sitting in his car all day, soaked through with damp vapor. After a thought, he gently placed his hand over Zhou Sicheng’s lower abdomen and rested his chin against him, letting the warm power of sunlight channel into his husband through his palm.

“How does it feel? Is it getting warm?”

Zhou Sicheng: “…” How could it not?

Xiang Zhen opened the ride-hailing earnings statement, his eyes going wide all at once. On May Day, Zhou Sicheng had brought in 1,002 yuan!

“Hubby, you’re amazing!”

Zhou Sicheng glanced at the fabricated statement, letting out an indifferent “Mn.”

Due to the rush, he hadn’t vetted the numbers for plausibility. If Xiang Zhen scrutinized it too closely, he would probably spot the bugs.

He needed to have a serious talk with Xiang Zhen to avoid any future surprises that would catch him off guard.

Zhou Sicheng began drafting his words mentally on how to make Xiang Zhen understand that financial statements of any kind were personal privacy. Not even spouses, parents, or banks could pull them without authorization. Given Xiang Zhen’s personality, invoking an institution like a “bank” would probably be more persuasive.

Xiang Zhen clicked open the detailed breakdown for May Day. When he saw it, he froze.

On May Day, Zhou Sicheng had started driving at 5:30 in the morning, clocking thirty kilometers to send a passenger to the airport for an early flight.

He didn’t pick up his last passenger from the train station to drop them off at a hotel until 2:00 AM the next morning.

An entire day—twenty whole hours without even time for a proper meal, scouring every single street across the city.

Humans couldn’t withstand that kind of strain.

Xiang Zhen remembered that on May Day, he hadn’t yet arrived in the city; he had spent the day basking comfortably in the sun on a grassy hillside.

Yet Zhou Sicheng was willing to give him five thousand yuan a month from the hard-earned money he made with his own blood and sweat.

Xiang Zhen felt his eyes grow warm.

Zhou Sicheng: “Xiang Zhen, let’s talk—”

“Hubby——” Xiang Zhen tossed the phone aside, spun around, and wrapped both arms around Zhou Sicheng’s neck, burying his face into his shoulder. His voice carried a muffled choke: “You work way too hard.”

Zhou Sicheng was struck dumb, every planned word swallowing back down his throat.

They had snuggled together while sleeping, yet this felt like their very first true embrace.

Xiang Zhen lifted his head, his rimmed eyes slightly glistening, his face bearing the startling beauty of a lotus blooming through morning dew. His eyes shone with utter certainty: “Hubby, stop driving for ride-hailing. I’ll support you.”

Zhou Sicheng felt as though the hand he lifted was weighed down with a thousand catties of responsibility and guilt. He clumsily stroked the corner of Xiang Zhen’s eye, uttering words that defied all reason: “What’s wrong with ride-hailing? I like driving.”

So what if Xiang Zhen wanted to check his statements? Let him check whatever he wanted; he could check the corporate financial books too if he pleased.

Xiang Zhen: “Your working hours are too long, it’s not safe. If something happens to you, I won’t have a husband anymore.” If a sunflower lost its sun, it would wither away.

Zhou Sicheng looked down at the unhinged statement his technician had fabricated, his brows knitting tightly. If the technician could draft a schedule like this, did it mean real drivers actually lived through such hell?

“I promise you right now, it won’t happen again.”

A brilliant idea suddenly struck Xiang Zhen: “Your academic qualifications are so prestigious. Starting tomorrow, stay home and prepare for the civil service exam! No matter how long it takes, I’ll support you.”

At worst, he could borrow a little more from the Yao Foundation. He wouldn’t be squandering it; it would be a student grant for his husband.

Once his husband passed the exam, his husband would be an official civil servant!

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Zhou Sicheng: “I can’t take the civil service exam.”

Xiang Zhen was bewildered: “Why?” From what he had observed, one of the most frequent human behaviors was taking the civil service exam. He had even resolved to record this path into the Guide to Adulthood for future generations, giving future Yao who attended university a bright, clear direction.

Zhou Sicheng delivered an airtight excuse: “It’s hard to come out of the closet in the system.”