James didn't dare ask how much it would cost to do an in-person photoshoot.
He was afraid he wouldn't be able to control himself and would end up giving the girl leverage over him.
And judging by her zero relationship history, she didn't seem like the type who would sell herself for money.
Better to play it safe for now. Once they were closer, he could bring up the idea of role-playing games.
Putting on his best gentlemanly act, James replied:
"I much prefer your cute and innocent self from when you were younger."
But after sending the message, he received no response for quite some time.
He started to feel uneasy.
What if saying she wasn't as cute as before hurt her feelings?
James realized that it might have been inappropriate.
He was just about to apologize when a reply finally came through.
Avril: "Oh, so Uncle's into lolis, huh?"
James: "..."
Avril: "Do you like pigtails, Uncle?"
Avril: "I even have white stockings. Want to join the group?"
James: "Umm, no thanks."
Avril: "Wow, Uncle, you're so shy. Could it be... you're a virgin?"
Damn.
This girl had seemed so pure and sweet in person, but online, she was practically dripping with flirtation.
James felt that if he kept talking to her, his true colors would undoubtedly show.
He didn't want to ruin the "caring big brother next door" persona he had painstakingly built.
So, swallowing his desire to send her money and join her group, he decided to stop responding altogether.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Avril noticed James had gone silent.
She scoffed, tossed her phone onto the couch, and leaned back.
Her original plan had been to tease him for some quick cash while playing up the ambiguous vibes between them.
But she hadn't expected him to be such a straight-laced guy.
Her attempts at being seductive had actually been ignored.
He even said she was cuter when she was younger.
Was she not cute now?
And what was this nonsense about ruining his ideal image of her?
Ridiculous.
She was determined to make him see that the Avril he used to adore was long gone. Now, she was a cold, unfeeling machine focused on making money.
After ranting internally, she grabbed a handful of freshly washed grapes and popped them into her mouth one by one.
Since grapes were high in sugar, she had to finish them all before her assistant returned, or else they'd get into another argument.
James, on the other hand, felt a bit hungry after being teased by the girl.
Rubbing his stomach, he decided to head out for some food.
He stumbled upon a small private restaurant called Little Bridge Family Kitchen. The owner, a warm and cheerful woman, welcomed him in, and he decided to give it a try.
To his surprise, the food was excellent.
It reminded him of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, where he had prepaid 8 million RMB for meals.
The curvaceous owner of that restaurant hadn't contacted him in a couple of days. Had she taken the money and run?
Feeling a bit worried, James pulled up her WhatsApp and sent her a message.
James: "Busy?"
Monroe Anne had been incredibly busy these past few days.
First, she had used the money to pay off her bank loans.
Then, she hired a team of online influencers to write promotional articles about her restaurant.
"Better than Michelin: A Chinese Imperial Feast."
"Enjoy Luxurious Living While Gazing at the Riverside Nightscape."
"One of the Must-Do Experiences in New York City."
These flashy advertisements had started to gain traction online, putting Drunken Immortal Pavilion on the radar of the general public.
Ordinary people loved to discuss things they couldn't afford, and word eventually reached the ears of the wealthy.
Some internet celebrities, always chasing what was out of reach for regular folks, began visiting the restaurant.
Over the past few days, her business had picked up significantly.
The diners raved about the food, and many couldn't stop praising the beautiful owner herself.
One influencer even took photos of Monroe Anne and included them in their posts, titling the article: "The Human Goddess of Drunken Immortal Pavilion."
It sparked a wave of attention.
Some out-of-town guests even traveled just to dine at her restaurant, leading to fully booked reservations and long wait times.
Right now, during peak dinner hours, Monroe Anne was swamped.
When she saw James's message pop up, she sighed but still took the time to respond:
Monroe Anne: "Not busy at all. What can I do for you, Mr. King?"
She knew full well that without James's help, her best option would have been to shut down the restaurant and marry a rich man.
So, James's requests always took top priority.
She assumed he wanted her to keep him company.
After all, she had prepared herself for this outcome.
What she hadn't expected was how efficient James wasâhe had already sweet-talked those other two women and now seemed to be moving on to her.
It made her a little nervous.
James: "Do you like doing photoshoots?"
Monroe Anne: "???"
She was reminded of their first conversation, when James had asked her for selfies.
It was clear that James had a thing for photography.
Monroe Anne glanced down at her curvaceous figure, her cheeks flushing slightly as she replied:
Monroe Anne: "I've never done one before. Are you offering to shoot one for me?"
James: "Yeah, I suddenly felt like trying it. Name your price."
Monroe Anne: "No need. I already said when I borrowed money that I'd do anything."
Monroe Anne: "Just send me the address, and I'll come over now."
James felt a little embarrassed by her straightforwardness.
But then he thought about her stunning figure, and any lingering guilt quickly vanished.
Ah, there was nothing like solving problems with money.
Why bother trying to win people over with kindness when throwing money around was so much easier?
James decided that once he got the reward from Tailsa, he'd stop trying to woo her.
If she got upset, he'd just shower her with cash until she was happy. If that didn't work, then he'd just move on.
After all, he had plenty of women in his life.
James: "Do you have cat-ear headbands, demon costumes, or maid outfits at home?"
Monroe Anne: "...No."
James (voice message): "Sixty."
Monroe Anne converted the voice message to text and read:
"I'll send you money. Buy some airline stewardess uniforms, security guard outfits, Sailor Moon costumes... and maybe a whip or two."
The more she read, the redder her face became.
Some of the items he mentioned were things she had never even heard of. Curious, she looked them up online and was instantly shocked.
Some of them barely had enough fabric to cover her chest. Was she really expected to wear these for photos?
Monroe Anne felt so embarrassed she didn't even want to show her face.
Thankfully, James gave her a few days to buy the outfits, giving her a bit of breathing room.
Otherwise, she might've run away on the spot.
James was eagerly anticipating showcasing his extraordinary photography skills in two days.
Returning home, he rested for a bit, then turned on the TV. Finding nothing interesting to watch, he headed to the study to play on his computer.
The computer was reportedly worth over $10,000 and could handle the highest-end games.
He played a couple of rounds of League of Legends and PUBG, but after losing both games, he started to feel empty inside.
The main issue was the houseâit was just too big, and he wasn't used to it.
The empty rooms, the cold floors, and the deafening silence made everything feel lifeless.
Even shouting "Shit!" at the screen echoed through the house like thunder.
Compared to Amanda's small, cozy apartment, this 480-square-meter flat felt especially lonely.
James glanced at the time.
It was just past 9 PM. Amanda was probably at the bar by now, and showing up unannounced would likely interrupt her work.
He suddenly realized that everyone seemed to have something to do.
Shirley Taylor was studying. Amanda was working. Monroe Anne was busy running her restaurant.
Meanwhile, he was just idling around, doing nothing but eating, sleeping, and waiting. And the waiting left him feeling restless.
Having money really did strip life of a lot of its meaning.
James didn't want to keep spiraling into this aimless existence. He wanted to find a purpose.
So, he opened WhatsApp, found Cody Jenkins, the rich second-generation heir, and messaged him:
James: "Yo, Cody, do you know any good clubs around here?"