Chapter 1: The Red Hare Among Horses David Brooks

David Brooks never imagined that one day he would actually have to rely on his looks to make a living.

In November 1991, in Fuping County, Xizhou City, the damp chill typical of early winter in Jiangnan was in the air. Outside the eaves of Sifang Teahouse, a row of more than a dozen coal stoves were burning, several kettles already boiling, with billowing steam and faint whistling drifting out toward the street.

The street wasn’t wide, but it was bustling with pedestrians. The crisp ringing of bicycle bells and the occasional sputter of a motorcycle were just part of the everyday scene. On both sides of the street, there were scattered stalls: bamboo baskets set down, a bundle or a plastic sheet spread on the ground, a few vegetables laid out—voilà, a stall.

Not far away, there was a video and audio shop playing "The Last Blossom," the sound blaring and distorted, probably running on a thermal power source, and the speakers were truly poor.

Diagonally across was a bicycle repair stall. The owner, wearing protective sleeves, was gluing the heel of a high-heeled shoe. A well-dressed woman with a big perm sat on a small stool, closely watching the repairman’s rasp.

Right next to the repair stall was the only sedan parked on the entire street.

David Brooks got off his Qianjiang 125 motorcycle, instinctively glanced up at the old signboard of Sifang Teahouse, then turned to look at the car.

It was a Volvo.

Full of old-school style, boxy and square. Kind of like an old Santana.

Of course, the old Santana was still new at this time.

1991, tsk tsk...

In such an ancient little city, with a mix of Qing Dynasty, Republican era, and People’s Commune architectural styles, on such a narrow street, this car was truly eye-catching.

Today, at this very Sifang Teahouse as agreed, David Brooks's mission was to sell his looks for a good price.

And the buyer was probably the owner of that sedan.

No choice—who told the original host to be such a troublemaker!

This guy had been both reckless and brave since childhood. His dad was a retired soldier who had taught him plenty of fighting skills, so he’d unknowingly become a sort of local warlord, great at fighting but not so great in the brains department.

In this summer’s college entrance exam, out of 710 points, he scored about 170. After graduation, his family pulled some strings to get him a temp job as a driver for the county government’s motor pool. But not long ago, in a moment of hotheadedness, he got into a fight with someone he really shouldn’t have messed with.

He was immediately detained, and that very night, David Brooks found himself, utterly bewildered, transmigrated to 1991—starting out in the detention room of the police station.

Damn, hell-level difficulty!

He was at his wits’ end, not only freezing but also starving to the point of seeing stars.

Supposedly, the original host’s dad was the deputy chief at the police station in the neighboring Xuguan Township. Even if they only gave him a tiny bit of professional courtesy, they wouldn’t have violated the rules to mistreat him. But again, he’d beaten up someone he absolutely shouldn’t have, and beat them up pretty badly.

Two days later, when he was released, he felt like he was about to see his great-grandma.

After gulping down a bowl of sugar water and six bowls of rice at home, his father in this life, Edward Brooks, told him the matter was settled. The price: David Brooks had to go on a blind date.

And regardless of whether he liked the other party, as long as she liked him, he had to marry her.

Well, a blessing in disguise: the original host, though brave, reckless, and, well, dumb—very dumb—actually had a good-looking face.

Born in the Jiangnan countryside, just turned eighteen this year, he was 1.83 meters tall, with a lean and powerful build, fair skin, and, most importantly, a handsome and heroic face—sword-like brows and starry eyes.

He looked a bit like an old-school Hong Kong movie star, John Lone.

In short, if the average eighteen-year-old boy’s hormone level—or, let’s say, attractiveness to girls—was a 10, and a handsome guy was a 30, this guy was probably a 100.

He really was the Red Hare among horses.

So, even a blockhead like him, despite causing such a big mess, still had someone willing to pay for his looks in the end.

When his dad went to ask for help, the county’s richest man—the owner of Shimen Distillery, and his dad’s old comrade and superior from the army, Henry Carter—decided to step in.

The price: his daughter, who was staying in Xizhou City and refused to come home to help with the family business. Her name was William Carter.

She was four years older than David Brooks, had just graduated from Beijing Normal University, and was assigned to work in Xizhou City. Supposedly, she’d been exceptionally smart since childhood, always had top grades, and was a tough, independent girl.

No matter what methods Henry Carter used or what price he paid, in the end, David Brooks was released without charges, the consequences were erased, and there was no criminal record. Next, it was his turn to fulfill the promise.

He was responsible for using his hormones, his good looks... whatever you called it. As long as this William Carter took a liking to him and was willing to return to Fuping County to help her father, the deal would be done.

Old Song was willing to pay for a big house and let the two get married.

…………