Too Much Money to Spend

At eleven o'clock on a late night, the bar area on the basement floor of the East Lake Private Club was still lit with a warm yellow glow.

Zhou Jialu had changed into a loose, beige knit dress, her long hair casually tied up at the back of her head. She stood behind the bar, mixing two glasses of whiskey soda. Ice cubes clinked against the glass walls, crisp and pleasant to the ear.

Su Bai leaned against a high stool at the bar, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, twirling an empty old-fashioned glass in his hand. He had just taken a shower, and the faint scent of body wash still clung to him. His entire demeanor was as relaxed as a leopard without its armor, yet his eyes were strikingly bright.

His mind was still replaying the system notification from Chen Yusheng's office that evening.

Five billion in startup capital, solidly deposited into the dedicated account of Baiye Holdings, completely legal and compliant—no more lengthy explanations needed for the tax bureau or the board of directors. What made it even more impressive was the laboratory strength evaluation system that followed—every time you climbed a level, free attribute points and god-tier skills were handed out like year-end bonuses.

Su Bai couldn't help but mutter to himself: This system really delivers. Not only does it slap the startup funds right in your face, but it also designs long-term incentives for you, making sure you don't give up halfway.

He looked up as Zhou Jialu slid the second glass over to him. A thin slice of lemon clung to the rim, and fine bubbles rose from the drink.

"Here you go, Junior," Zhou Jialu said, blinking at him with her fox-like eyes slightly upturned. "You spent all day running around at school and then lingered in Sheng Sheng's office until sunset. Aren't you tired?"

"Tired from what?" Su Bai took the glass and took a sip. The cold liquid slipped down his throat, making him even more alert. "Today, I finally got a clear picture of the sports science line. That research group at Jiangda University is so watered down you could raise fish in it. We're done playing their game."

Zhou Jialu propped her chin on her hand, her elbow resting on the gleaming bar counter, listening with keen interest.

Su Bai gave her a rundown of Zhou Jian's remarks from that afternoon and his decision to fully fund and build his own lab, glossing over the system's five billion credit just as a highlight. He didn't mention Zhou Jian by name, only saying that a conscientious doctoral student had privately tipped him off, helping him see through those people's true nature.

After hearing this, Zhou Jialu was stunned for a couple of seconds, then let out a soft breath and whispered in surprise, "Five billion... Junior, you say that like it's five bucks. I've never heard anyone casually drop five billion on a lab."

"The money's just sitting in the account anyway," Su Bai said, setting down his glass and tapping his finger on the rim. "Baiye Holdings isn't short on cash flow right now. What it lacks are assets that can generate long-term value and actually be useful for our own people. On the school front, Xinran and Sister Xia Lin are still working on the licenses and land. The lab can't wait any longer. Sheng Sheng needs algorithms and data; Lu Yuning needs patterns and fabrics. And later, when Wan Xinyan and the others go camping or do sports, I don't want them forever buying foreign OEM products."

He spoke casually, but his tone was steady, as if he had already planned it all out countless times.

Zhou Jialu stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed—a mix of helplessness and pride. "Alright, I get it now. You're not doing business; you're building infrastructure for our harem of confidantes."

"Crude but not wrong," Su Bai admitted with a smirk. "So I'm leaving this to you and Sheng Sheng to handle together."

Zhou Jialu was about to reach for the decanter but paused mid-motion. "Me? And Sheng Sheng?"

"Yeah," Su Bai nodded, his gaze turning serious. "You're the chief steward—the club, HR, logistics, external relations—none of it runs without you. The lab needs site selection, decoration, equipment procurement, hiring people—a mountain of daily chores. I can't have Sheng Sheng running around construction sites every day. She's responsible for research direction, technical oversight, and working with the real doers. You two cover internal and external matters—a perfect match."

Zhou Jialu bit her lower lip, a flicker of excitement flashing in her eyes before she quickly suppressed it. "So where do I even start? I barely even know what sports science is about..."

"Start with the framework," Su Bai said, reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the motion as natural as straightening a complex chart. "Set up a separate project company under Baiye Holdings, with the legal entity under the group's legal department. For the site: prioritize Jiangda's industrial park or the reserved industrial land around East Lake. Liu Chenhu can help ask about policies. Have Sheng Sheng list the equipment needs, and you handle the price inquiries and bidding process—don't let anyone fleece us. For hiring, focus on people like Zhou Jian—hardworking with integrity. Don't bring in anyone like Li Guobing, who can only Photoshop."

Zhou Jialu burst out laughing. "So you're never letting go of the Li Guobing Photoshop meme today, are you?"

"People like that don't get through our door," Su Bai said flatly. "Better to have none than have the wrong one."

He paused, then added, "If you run into anything you can't handle—licenses, university relations, media spin, dealing with city officials—don't tough it out alone. Go straight to Sister Xia Lin. Her network in Hucheng and Jiangcheng will save you a lot of trouble compared to our own efforts."

Zhou Jialu got serious, pulling out a small notebook and pen from under the bar and jotting down a few lines. "Should I schedule a separate meeting with Sister Xia Lin to report, or combine it with the school project?"

"Combined for now—Sister Xia Lin has a good overall picture," Su Bai said. "She's been busy lately keeping tabs on the private school and the Deep Blue project. Don't make her think you're dumping another pile of mess on her. Compile a brief—project background, budget range, timeline, and items needing her involvement. Write it clearly. She likes clean, concise materials."

Zhou Jialu nodded as she wrote, mumbling to herself, "Site selection, bidding, hiring, briefing for Sister Xia Lin... And I'll coordinate with Sheng Sheng on the technical side..."

Halfway through her notes, she suddenly looked up, her fox-like eyes narrowing slightly with a hint of teasing. "Su Bai, Junior, your operation is really getting out of hand. The school project hasn't even started yet, and you're already diving into a lab. Five billion... just hearing that number makes my legs go weak."

Su Bai was amused by her mix of awe and complaint. He lazily leaned back, swiveling ever so slightly on the high stool.

"Not started?" He raised an eyebrow. "Land, licenses, Liu Chenhu's promise to help, Xinran and Sheng Sheng working on plans—you call that 'not started'? At worst, I'd say we've just put down one stroke of the brush, and the whole character isn't written yet."

"That's still way off!" Zhou Jialu set down the pen and planted both hands on the bar, leaning forward. The neckline of her knit dress dipped slightly with the motion, but she didn't notice, too busy complaining. "A school is a century-long project, and the lab is a five-billion-dollar money pit. Here at the club, there's the Starlight Dance Troupe, Lu Yuning's studio, Wan Xinyan's racing training, Ke Yujia's trial room—none of it runs without your approval. I'm constantly cleaning up the messes you leave behind, and now I've got to add lab manager to my job description. I'm going to go bald at this rate."

Su Bai looked at her puffed-up face and reached out to pinch her soft cheek. "You'd look good bald too. If you're really overwhelmed, borrow a couple of people from Sister Xia Lin's team, or have Xu Xinran scout a junior admin who can write press releases from the media sector. Any problem money can solve isn't really a problem."

“All you care about is money!” Zhou Jialu swatted his hand away, but she wasn’t truly angry. Instead, she leaned in, draping her arm over his shoulder, her voice softening just a touch. “I’m just worried you’ll run yourself ragged. How about with Li Xingya today… Did Chen Yusheng give you a hard time about it?”

Su Bai let out a laugh. “Gave Xingya a treatment session at noon, then had meetings in the afternoon. Chen Yusheng knew all about it. She even said Xingya was down-to-earth and worth mentoring. The one who got jealous was Lu Yuning—kept thinking I was dropping by her office way too often. I explained we were just discussing serious sports gear, and her face went completely red.”

Zhou Jialu laughed so hard her shoulders shook. “Ningning’s like that. Tease her for a second, and she’ll be embarrassed for three days. Speaking of which, have you settled on a name for the lab yet? You can’t seriously call it Baiye Sports Science Lab Number One, can you?”

“Let Chen Yusheng name it,” Su Bai said, raising his glass again, lightly clinking it against Zhou Jialu’s empty one. “The research side needs a sense of ceremony. For external branding, we can align it with Lu Yuning’s custom line later—‘Baiye Lab Certified’—makes it sound expensive.”

Zhou Jialu’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea. For Wan Xinyan and the others, once that tag gets slapped on their gear, the perceived value jumps instantly.”

They went on, talking in low voices about recruitment channels, equipment import timelines, and how to steer clear of academic bubble teams like Professor Tang’s. The more Zhou Jialu talked, the more she got into her groove. That earlier panic about “the scale being too big” gradually melted into the particular excitement of a chief operating officer—another territory about to fall under her management.

Outside the clubhouse window, the courtyard fountain whispered. Behind the bar, the liquor cabinet caught the light, amber glints bouncing off bottle after bottle.

Zhou Jialu went to rinse the cocktail shaker. In the mirror, her silhouette curved—narrow waist, round hips, the homey dress clinging to her full figure, swaying softly with each step.

Su Bai’s gaze flickered over her, then back to his phone screen and that long, long balance in the Baiye Holding account. Once again, the system panel’s words flashed through his mind: “Current Lab Strength Score: 0/100.”

Zero wasn’t scary. What was scary was having money without direction. Now he had the direction. He had the money. And the people.

Zhou Jialu came back, drying her hands, and leaned against the high stool on his other side. Softly, she asked, “Junior, honestly… are you really not bothered? Five hundred million thrown into this—what if it all comes to nothing? Doesn’t it hurt at all?”

Su Bai finished the last sip of his drink, set the glass down, and spoke in a lazy tone laced with a brash ease.

“Hurt? Why would it? It’s not like I have anything better to do with all this money.”