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*****
"Peter, make sure you get their names right! Luke, collect the money! And double-check the orders!"
At the entrance of the cafeteria, Gwen stood directing the two boys with a serious expression.
Turning to the small group in front of her, she said, "Alright, you can pay now and tell me your names."
"What? You want two?"
"No way! I mean, you should try one first before deciding. What if you don't like it? I don't give refunds, you know!"
She looked as if she genuinely had their best interests in mind.
Not like it's going to taste bad.
Impossible!
But I can't let you all get full just yet. I remember reading something in a book—what was it called again? Hunger marketing?
Yeah, that sounds about right.
Gwen muttered to herself while maintaining a bright, beaming smile on her face.
There were only eight people, not many, but this marked the beginning of Gwen "Billionaire" Kent's entrepreneurial empire!
Looking at the fresh, green cash, Gwen quickly did the math in her head.
She charged five dollars for each roujiamo. A bit pricey, maybe, but her dad made them with great care—totally worth it!
So that's forty dollars. Give her dad ten... or maybe not. Then give Luke and Parker two bucks each. That leaves her with at least twenty-six!
Gwen's eyes lit up, her big eyes gleaming with the sparkle of "wicked" ambition.
"All done!"
Seeing everyone had paid, Gwen waved her little hand and declared, "Same time tomorrow, we'll meet here in front of the cafeteria!"
The kids nodded and hurried off, but the boy who had asked first turned back and said to her, "You'd better not trick us! I remember your name and class!"
Gwen gave a light snort. "I'm Gwen! I run an honest business!"
"Here you go!"
Luke handed the money to Gwen, wide-eyed with amazement. "You're amazing!"
Peter also nodded enthusiastically, his gaze filled with admiration.
Forty bucks—this was no small feat!
Gwen took the money and gave it a little toss in her hands. She pulled out two bills and handed them to Luke. "This is your payment. I'll need your help again tomorrow."
Luke blinked, took the money, and whispered, "Aren't you worried Uncle Mike will get mad when he finds out?"
"He probably won't, right?"
Looking at the money in her hand, Gwen gritted her teeth and said, "Worst case, we just do a few rounds and then stop!"
As she spoke, she took out another two dollars and handed them to Peter. "I'll need your help tomorrow too, Peter!"
Peter's face flushed as he waved his hands. "N-No, you don't have to pay me. I'm happy to help."
"No way!"
Gwen stuffed the money into Peter's hands and said seriously, "We're partners. I won't shortchange either of you!"
Peter lowered his head slightly and said, "Thank you."
Then, clenching his fists, he told Gwen, "I'll do my best!"
"I believe in you!"
Gwen patted Peter on the shoulder, her smile brighter than the midday sun.
Peter froze in place.
"Alright, class is starting. Let's get moving!"
With that, Gwen turned and walked away.
For some reason, as they watched Gwen's back, Luke and Peter both thought she looked kind of… cool.
…
Meanwhile, Clark had successfully become a journalism intern.
With his degree, a selection of photos he'd taken over the years, and his warm and approachable demeanor, he passed the interview effortlessly.
He would start work at the Daily Planet tomorrow.
Clark glanced back at the office building behind him and drove away with satisfaction.
Speaking of the car...
Mike had bought it for him just a couple of days ago to make commuting easier.
Clark originally didn't want it, but the moment he overheard his dad quietly muttering about having spent a fortune on a manor for Charles, he suddenly felt no guilt accepting it at all.
The car wasn't fast, but Clark wasn't in the mood for speeding anyway. He actually enjoyed the leisurely pace.
Years of a wandering life had made him more grounded and steady.
"Hm? The Stark Industries Expo?"
He noticed a billboard near the traffic lights and glanced at it with mild curiosity.
Tony Stark being Iron Man had been big news recently, and since the Starks had a decent relationship with his family, Clark found himself genuinely interested in the event.
He could bring Gwen along when the time came.
But the expo was still some time away.
Beep beep!
A horn blared behind him, pulling Clark out of his thoughts. Just as he was about to drive through the green light, another loud, grating honk rang out from behind.
This wasn't a polite reminder—it was aggressive and impatient.
Clark checked his rearview mirror and saw a bearded, heavyset man slamming his hands on the steering wheel, yelling something inaudible.
Raising a brow, Clark deliberately slowed down and didn't cross the intersection until the light was about to turn red. The man behind him was forced to stop, shouting uselessly at the back of Clark's car in frustration.
Clark chuckled softly. His mood instantly improved.
It was already past mealtime. He thought for a moment and then began aimlessly cruising through the city.
It had been a long time since he'd last returned here, and as a journalist, he knew he needed to familiarize himself with the city to efficiently locate stories and destinations. So he figured a casual scouting drive would be good preparation for the job.
…
That evening, at the Kent household.
Talking about fun things during dinner was a tradition in their family. So, when Mike brought the last dish to the table, Clark was the first to speak up.
"I'm starting work tomorrow—as a journalism intern."
"Wow!"
Gwen raised her glass of juice happily and said, "Big bro, I salute you, you're a real man!"
Thwack!
Mike flicked Gwen lightly on the forehead. "Speak properly!"
"Ow!" Gwen rubbed her forehead and quickly corrected herself. "Congrats, bro!"
Clark chuckled, tousling Gwen's hair. Then he looked at Mike and said, "Dad, if you keep flicking Gwen like that, she'll turn dumb."
"Exactly, exactly!"
Gwen chimed in immediately.
"Dumb?" Mike raised a brow. "Didn't the three of you grow up that way? You all turned out fine."
"Gwen's different from us."
"Exactly, exactly!"
"She was already kinda dumb to begin with."
"Exactly, exac—huh?!"
Gwen froze, her wide eyes filled with disbelief at Clark's sudden betrayal.
"Hahahaha!"
Mike and Clark both burst into laughter. Gwen puffed out her cheeks and shot them a fierce glare—but couldn't help giggling a moment later.
The mood at the table was warm and lively…
Eyes sparkling with mischief, Gwen suddenly turned serious and looked at Mike.
"Dad, I need to tell you something."
"What is it? Go ahead."
"Well, tomorrow morning... can you make some extra roujiamo? I want to bring them to my classmates."
"Sure!"
Mike smiled. "What's the matter? Tastes good, huh?"
"Yeah!" Gwen nodded enthusiastically. "They've been drooling over them!"
With a dramatic wave of his hand, Mike said, "Alright then, how many do you want?"
Gwen did a quick mental count. "Ten."
"Ten?"
"If you include mine, then eleven."
She looked a little sheepish.
Mike narrowed his eyes and gave her a suspicious look. "Why so many?"
One or two extra might be normal, but this sudden jump was clearly off.
(End of Chapter)