28. Everyone Has an Account to Settle When the World Turns

Qiao Yingna was not that materialistic after all. She hadn’t thought about profiting from Bai Haonan’s situation; her first instinct was to find this unruly man a proper job, hoping he’d start living like a normal person instead of always scheming underhanded ways to get by. She was also adamant about not letting herself fall into his trap—she knew all too well that a man like him was a bottomless pit, a huge one at that. So she stuck to her decision not to join the celebration for Bai Haonan’s new job, but she did call Chen Sufen.

To be honest, she’d been waiting for this chance to call for a long time, finally having a legitimate reason and topic to do so. “Have you taken the exam yet?” she asked.

But Chen Sufen got straight to the point without a hint of emotion: “Are you involved with him?”

Qiao Yingna nearly swore an oath: “It was just a fleeting thing, you know what he’s like... Um, Xiaofen, I have a clear conscience about this. There won’t be anything between us in the future, either. I’m calling you not because of him—we wouldn’t fall out over a man like that...”

Chen Sufen interrupted coolly, “You look down on him so much but still slept with him?”

Qiao Yingna struggled, “It’s just physical needs, like eating or drinking water, that’s all, really. I know you won’t care, I...”

Chen Sufen cut her off again, “How many times?”

Qiao Yingna was guilty, “How many times what? Why are you asking?”

Chen Sufen’s tone was even, saying she’d keep it in mind. “I have a little notebook. Whenever I find out, I ask how many times. It’s nothing, just making a note.”

Qiao Yingna almost choked on her own saliva. “You... Look, to cut a long story short, I still see you as a sister. As for him... Here’s the deal: I helped him connect with the staff football team at our Medical University’s Affiliated Hospital as a coach. If he does well, he could have a stable job for a few years. Whether you want to look after him or whatever, I’m just letting you know his situation—I’m definitely not in a relationship with him.”

Surprisingly, Chen Sufen just replied “Oh” and hung up, leaving Qiao Yingna staring blankly at her phone, wondering what on earth she was doing, why she was lowering herself to this, especially when she knew full well that bastard wouldn’t care about her or any of this!

So the Medical University girl had to rebuild her psychological defenses, forcing herself to focus on her books, otherwise she really would fail her courses this year. The curriculum at the Medical University was far more demanding than outsiders imagined. She’d only managed to pick up more side gigs this semester because she had more internships and some free time, but next semester... she’d probably have to keep this pace just to earn enough for two. The thought made her realize she was getting distracted again and almost slapped herself for it!

This was telling—deep down, Qiao Yingna also believed the staff football team job was just a way to keep Bai Haonan on the straight and narrow, away from the “duck” business; she never counted on him making money from it.

Meanwhile, Bai Haonan was a little stunned. The “Enzyme” guy had formally offered him a contract, defining Liu Hao as a personal trainer: “I know your level is definitely professional. When I was in Europe, I went to Camp Nou and Old Trafford, saw professional players up close, and you have that aura. Although domestic football has its critics, your expertise is more than enough for us. If coaching at the Medical University is your hobby, then we’re officially inviting you to work with us as a personal trainer. As for pay, the going rate in Rongdu is fifteen hundred per session for the best—we’ll go with that. If you have any requests, just say so. Price and equipment are negotiable, though of course I know we can’t compare with Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangdong.”

Fifteen hundred per session?

Bai Haonan, who’d been set on becoming a “duck,” had never imagined he could make such rates. Even if he just ran and jumped around for two hours every afternoon, that would be over three thousand! Rain or shine, that’s nearly a hundred thousand a month!

He’d heard hospitals had money, but he’d never seen anything like this!

Just for casual football, they could pay out ten thousand a month. The Blue Wind team struggled to get tens of thousands a year in sponsorship for an ad slot. Why such a difference?

Bai Haonan, uneducated as he was, didn’t understand the concept of industry capital, but his shrewd instincts kept him calm as he asked about the details: Where was the field, how many people, was there a gym, were there physical therapists or nutritionists, and so on. These details could make a big difference.

Seeing that he wasn't refusing, the young scholars all breathed a sigh of relief. They chattered about how, though he could pick whom he wanted, could they at least be substitutes and train with the team. Otherwise, they were casual: “We’re a hospital, all those things are no problem. We’ll still use the Medical University’s field, though.” The Affiliated Hospital was right across the street from the Medical University, both occupying huge plots in the heart of the provincial capital.

Bai Haonan wasn’t new to money—he’d won ten thousand in match bonuses before—so he nonchalantly signed the contract, nearly writing “White Haonan” instead of his real name. “Alright, I’ll give it a try. Let’s check out the gym first so I can get familiar and make a training plan.”

He had at least planned, after retiring, to coach with Old Chen, and though he intended to get his certifications later through connections, he knew the basic routines.

The young scholars left with grins, some still in their white coats. The “Enzyme” expert, knowledgeable as ever, handed Bai Haonan a bank card: “To show our sincerity, here’s twenty thousand in advance. From now on, payments go to this card. We’ll be counting on you, Brother Hao!” As deputy director of the research center, this man earned tens of thousands per lecture wherever he taught, but his learning and manners were impeccable, and his passion for football was sincere.

Bai Haonan took their respect for granted, as if they were just ordinary college students needing his help.

This wasn’t the part that left him truly stunned, though. That came when the administrative assistant assigned to show him around led him to the gym. The moment the door opened, Bai Haonan could hardly believe his eyes!

It needs to be explained that former professional players almost always lived within the sphere of professional sports—the gym at the club, or the one in the hotel. They rarely had the chance to visit commercial gyms, so they weren’t aware of the booming fitness industry outside. In their minds, a gym with about fifty people was standard—a pro team’s first squad was only so many, and anything larger was a waste. Hotel gyms were mostly for show, with just athletes and foreign guests, so those weren’t big either. Thus, the three-story, several-thousand-square-meter fitness center at the Affiliated Hospital of Rongdu Medical University utterly shattered Bai Haonan’s expectations!

The Blue Wind team was dirt poor, with only five or six treadmills. Old Chen often chased them out to run laps instead of wearing out the equipment. But here—there were dozens of treadmills, all imported brands!

Other machines were so impressive that Bai Haonan was nearly beside himself with excitement.

The attached swimming pool and sauna put so-called professional team facilities to shame, and the therapy center next door was nearly as large, not just a couple of small rooms tacked onto the gym.

This was a top-tier hospital, after all. Therapy was a major profit center—how could a couple of physical therapists in a gym or sports team compare to an institution with entire departments of orthopedics, nursing, nutrition, and food hygiene? They had a legion of master’s and doctoral advisors in nutrition alone!

The administrative assistant was mainly there to help Bai Haonan get his work ID. As a coach hired by the Affiliated Hospital, he was entitled to use all these facilities for free. Bai Haonan still hadn’t realized what a huge perk this was.

He was already delighted, skipping off to see his own desk.

Since it was a hospital appointment, even though the field was across the street, the easiest place to assign him was a little cubicle in the fitness center—just enough room for a desk or two. But to Bai Haonan, who’d been hustling as a “duck” just yesterday, this was a whole new world.

Perhaps Qiao Yingna was right—there was something different about doing things properly. At the very least, all along the way, he was met with respect...

Bai Haonan didn’t quite grasp the meaning of “respect,” but he’d long since learned to enjoy it and took it as his due, without ever thinking how to use it to his advantage.