As Christmas Eve was fast approaching, some bustling streets in Medford were already adorned with sparkling, multi-colored fairy lights, adding a festive touch to this remote town.
"Georgie, have you thought about opening a new small business? That arcade isn't a long-term solution," Mike said to Georgie, who was staring out the car window, as they drove back the way they came.
As mentioned before, arcades operate in a gray area. Sooner or later, problems will arise if there are crackdowns or surprise inspections from above.
Therefore, just like he advised Connie, Mike also hoped Georgie could separate himself from the arcade business.
"What else do you think I can do?" Georgie, having snapped out of his daze, knew he wasn't particularly smart, so he was willing to listen to Mike's advice.
"Perhaps you could start with a small car repair shop. If you really don't know what to do, you can give me the money to manage after you recover your capital from the arcade," Mike offered reliable advice.
Georgie actually had a talent for car repair, and a small shop could easily start with car washing and tire repair services.
Such a storefront business, with relatively low initial investment, was very suitable for Georgie to try.
Moreover, even if Georgie wasn't interested in this project, Mike offered him another option: investing the money in stocks.
With Mike's support, Georgie could at least be guaranteed not to lose money.
From then on, it would only be a matter of how much he earned.
Of course, all of this depended on Georgie being willing to cut ties with the arcade.
"I need to think about it…" Georgie said evasively.
Evidently, having tasted success, Georgie was unwilling to give up the lucrative arcade business.
Or perhaps, having just achieved stability in his life, he was afraid of change.
"Suit yourself. But I still recommend you find a legitimate job as soon as possible," Mike, seeing his concerns, gave his final advice.
It was still the same saying: forcing help on someone isn't helping.
Mike had said what needed to be said; the final decision on how to choose rested with Georgie himself.
Soon, the pickup truck arrived back outside the Cooper family's small yard.
By this time, it was completely dark. After watching Georgie carry his suitcase to the basement, Mike also turned and went to Connie's.
"Mike, I'd like to ask about stocks," Connie said in the living room, still awake.
"No problem, what would you like to know?" Mike took off his jacket and sat on the sofa.
Next, at Connie's request, Mike systematically explained the process of stock trading.
"Isn't this too complicated…?" Connie, being elderly, still looked bewildered after hearing the explanation.
However, not needing to understand everything thoroughly was one of Connie's great strengths. Rather than complex stock trading secrets, she preferred to trust Mike, her "family member."
"You told me before that if I wanted to invest in stocks, I could ask for your help. So, I'd like to entrust my retirement fund to you," Connie said casually, pulling out three thick stacks of cash she had prepared. "Here's thirty thousand dollars exactly. If it's lost, it's all on me; if we make money, we'll split it fifty-fifty."
The thirty thousand dollar on the table was partly Connie's savings from this period, and the other part was the money from transferring the arcade.
It seemed she had taken all of Mike's previous advice to heart.
"I'll open a separate third-party account for you, and let's not talk about splitting the money," Mike had no intention of using his position to profit from Connie.
With a net worth already in the tens of millions, he had no need to do so.
Moreover, to ensure no future financial disputes with Connie, Mike also decided to introduce a third-party oversight system to make Connie's fund flow transparent.
This is where Chris, the former securities firm employee, would come in handy.
Chris was the male socialite among the trio Mike had previously rescued from the cannibal.
Now he had a new identity: Mike's financial advisor for stock investments.
Adhering to the principle of "clear accounts make good friends."
Mike planned to introduce Chris to Connie.
Of course, this didn't mean Mike would be a hands-off manager; he would still strictly oversee Connie's future stock trading matters.
"Alright, the stock account is set up. From now on, if you have any questions about the stock market, you can ask me or Chris," Mike, who helped Connie open an account through a third party, tried to teach Connie how to interpret market trends herself, believing that giving a man a fish feeds him for a day, but teaching him how to fish feeds him for a lifetime.
If this approach succeeded, it would undoubtedly make Connie feel more at ease.
"It's alright, I trust you with the stocks," Connie said with a smile after her first stock purchase. "It's getting late, I'm going to rest now."
Well, it seemed Connie was indeed not interested in stocks. Out of trust in Mike, she apparently only intended to be a hands-off investor.
This operation was akin to entrusting professional matters to professionals.
What more could Mike say to that? He could only choose to "carry" Connie.
Time flew by, and it was the school's Christmas party.
The grand auditorium, decorated with countless fairy lights, streamers, banners, and Christmas trees, was filled with a festive atmosphere.
Compared to last year, this year's school Christmas party was exceptionally grand.
"Welcome everyone to the school's annual Christmas party…"
On stage, Ms. Sharon, shedding her usual staid image, wore a dazzling evening gown and served as the host for the evening.
It had to be said, Ms. Sharon, barely in her early thirties, looked quite charming when dressed up.
"Next, let's welcome Principal Tom to the stage to speak!"
As the host's words faded, Principal Tom, dressed in an academic gown, slowly walked onto the stage, assisted by Dean Tim.
Principal Tom, who had reached retirement age, had visibly aged significantly in the past six months.
At this moment, he looked exceptionally kind.
"I am delighted to spend this special day with all of you young people. You're the hope of the future…"
Principal Tom seemed to be reflecting on life as he delivered his opening remarks.
Then, he continued, "Thank you for patiently listening to an old man's ramblings. Now, let us together witness the tremendous achievements Medford High has made this year…"
"First, I'd like to invite all members of the Medford Team. Not only did they win first place in the regional invitational tournament in the first half of the year, but they also won the Summer League championship in the second half of this year…"
Amidst enthusiastic applause and the announcement of their honors, George, Mike, and the other football players successively walked onto the stage, receiving everyone's congratulations.
The cheers, almost raising the roof, attested to the popularity of football among the students.
After honoring the football team, accompanied by Ms. Sharon, the members of the Math Olympiad team, who had won this year's Math Olympiad competition, also appeared on stage.
At this point, Mike achieved the accomplishment of a double triumph.
Next, other groups that had brought honor to the school successively took the stage to receive their commendations.
"I am delighted to see Medford High getting better and better…"
After a series of celebratory honors, Principal Tom's face showed complex emotions of reluctance, seemingly foreshadowing that something significant was about to happen.
"Life's journey is long, and no one can accompany you all the way."
"Similarly, I regret that I cannot continue this journey with you. From this moment on, the position of Principal of Medford will be handed over by me to Tim…"
As the Old Principal quietly stepped back, Tim walked to the center of the stage.