Rebirth in a Shura Field, but in an Abstract Version

046 Guess what she wants you to do?

On this day, the air in Chengdu was still hot and humid, and cicadas were chirping loudly in the treetops.

Wang Zhe sat in front of his computer at home, sweating profusely without the air conditioning on.

But his mind wasn't on the temperature at all; he was staring intently at the computer screen in front of him.

On the screen, the stock that had haunted his dreams and even caused him some anxiety these past few days was finally no longer a despairing limit-up.

After several consecutive days of limit-up trading, it was finally broken today by a massive sell-off driven by profit-taking.

On the candlestick chart, the white intraday line resembles a startled snake, violently thrashing up and down.

"Finally, we can go in, but..."

Wang Zhe stared at the screen, his eyes as sharp as an eagle eyeing its prey.

At this very moment, the stock price is fluctuating wildly between 9.80 yuan and 10.00 yuan. One second it was 9.84 yuan, and the next second a large buy order of several thousand lots swept up the price, instantly pushing it above 9.90 yuan; then a sell order of several thousand lots came crashing down, and the price instantly fell back.

Wang Zhe's fingers hovered over the left mouse button, his breathing slightly rapid.

He hesitated.

As a reborn individual with memories of the future, he knew very well that this stock would definitely rise to around 14 yuan this year. However, as a trader who still retained some humanity, greed was instinctive.

"9.7 yuan...can it go any lower? If I can get it down to 9.5 yuan, the cost will be even lower, and I can make more."

Even just buying a few hundred more shares is equivalent to several thousand dollars.

However, in those brief two minutes of his hesitation...

The numbers on the screen suddenly flashed red.

A large buy order of 20,000 lots suddenly appeared, instantly wiping out all the sell orders above. The stock price, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, jumped directly from 9.74 to 9.94.

"Grass!"

Wang Zhe couldn't help but swear.

This is the stock market, the bloodiest yet fairest casino. A moment's hesitation, and thousands of dollars in profit are gone.

"We can't wait any longer, we can't wait..."

Wang Zhe made a quick decision, no longer worrying about the few cents difference. If he waited any longer, and the price suddenly hit the daily limit again, it would be too late to cry.

He quickly entered the price: 9.95 yuan.

To ensure a sale, they even raised the price by a penny.

Buy quantity: All positions.

Click to confirm.

"Smack."

The Enter key was pressed down hard, making a crisp sound.

In the blink of an eye, the system notification appeared: [The order has been completed].

Average transaction price: 9.94 yuan.

Transaction volume: 33300 shares.

Transaction amount: 331002 yuan.

With the handling fees included, he lost almost all of his initial investment of 332,000 yuan.

Looking at the funds in his account that instantly turned into stock market value, and the number of holdings displayed in the upper right corner as "33300", Wang Zhe let out a long breath and slumped into his chair as if he had just finished running a marathon.

"This is truly a casino brimming with dark humor..."

Wang Zhe looked at the number and couldn't help but laugh.

With an initial investment of 330,000 yuan, 33,300 shares were purchased.

"Looks like I've been quite lucky with the number 'three' lately..."

He shook his head, clearing his mind of the jumbled thoughts. He transferred the remaining thousand-odd yuan from his securities account to his linked bank card.

Seeing the text message notification of the deposit on his phone, Wang Zhe was in a great mood: "Alright, this is my allowance for the next month."

Just then, the phone on the table vibrated.

The call was from Song Zhiyi. As soon as she answered, the girl asked, "How did it go? Did you finish the important business you needed to take care of as soon as you got home?"

"It's done, everything went smoothly." Wang Zhe looked at the K-line chart on the screen and smiled.

Song Zhiyi changed the subject: "Alright, now that you're done with your work, come over quickly. Jiang Di needs your help."

"Beg me? What does she want now?" Wang Zhe asked warily.

Song Zhiyi paused, seemingly covering the mouthpiece of her phone to mute herself and exchanging a few words with Jiang Di, before the voice from the phone came through again: "She wants you... uh, to help her draw something."

"Draw something?" Wang Zhe paused for a moment. "Draw what? If it's sketching geometric shapes, that's fine. But let me make it clear first, I'm not a drawing expert. I just taught myself some basics to study architecture. I can only draw houses and perspective; I can't draw those fancy things."

"It's okay, you only need to know the basics," Song Zhiyi said with a smile. "Besides, her requirements are a bit special. It's hard to explain over the phone, so please come quickly."

"special?"

Wang Zhe hung up the phone, completely bewildered.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Less than half an hour later, Wang Zhe returned to Song Zhiyi's home.

As soon as I entered, I saw two girls sitting on the sofa.

Song Zhiyi wore an expression of anticipation, fanning herself with a book in her hand. Jiang Di, on the other hand, kept her head down, her hands clasped together, her face as red as a ripe tomato, not daring to look at Wang Zhe at all.

Wang Zhe sat on the sofa opposite the girls, observed the strange atmosphere, and asked, "Tell me, what do you want me to do? Why are you being so mysterious?"

Jiang Di didn't say anything, but secretly glanced at him before quickly lowering her head again, her toes pacing nervously on the floor.

Song Zhiyi nudged Jiang Di's arm: "Hey, you asked for it yourself, so just say it. These kinds of special requests need to be said in person to show sincerity."

What special request?

Wang Zhe had a vague premonition that something was wrong.

Jiang Di took a deep breath, as if she had made a great decision, and said in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, "I...I want you...to draw a pattern on my body."

"What?"

Wang Zhe thought he had misheard.

"On you?"

Jiang Di nodded, her face turning even redder, but her voice became more firm: "Like a tattoo... but I don't get tattoos anymore, and you don't like them, right? So, I want you to draw one. Any design that you think is meaningful is fine, since you can draw, I'll listen to you."

Wang Zhe was shocked.

Looking at the girl in front of him, who seemed both shy and bold, a series of thoughts flashed through his mind.

Body painting?

This...this is way too advanced!

While this might not seem like much in later generations, it was absolutely mind-blowing among high school students.

Moreover, Jiang Di also told Song Zhiyi about the tattoo shop.

He pondered for a moment and said, "Get this straight, this isn't a tattoo. It's something drawn on; it'll disappear after a shower. It's the end of July now; you shower every day. This thing won't last."

"It's okay," Jiang Di looked up, her large, wet eyes gazing at him. "I know I can't keep you. But I just want... I want you to leave something on me with your own hands. Even if it's just for a day."

The girl's eyes were full of longing, and the words she uttered made Wang Zhe's heart skip a beat.

He coughed twice tactically to mask his inner turmoil.

"Fine. Since you insist..."

"You agreed?" Jiang Di's eyes lit up.

Meanwhile, Song Zhiyi, resting her chin on her hand, wore a knowing smile, like a spectator watching a good show.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.