Spoiled by Eight Uncles (Lily) novel Chapter 150

It was a cozy night. Several rundown bars in the affordable housing area were teeming with patrons. Above the hustle and bustle was the community apartments, one of which was called Caring Suite.

On the 4th floor, a fingerless man was scrolling on his phone frantically. He was none other than Harvard. Within 30 minutes, his video was viewed more than one million times and received 70,000 likes. But right before he could go viral, he received a notification. His video was taken down due to a violation of the platform’s rules and regulations.

Why? Why? Why? Harvard was furious. He did censor the gory part by putting on a monochrome filter. ARGH! Now, his viewership was gone!

Harvard checked other accounts. One copycat knelt on a durian husk. He got 100,000 followers. The streamer then started promoting durian. Judging from the sales he closed in the past two days, he just earned around 30 thousand dollars.

“F*ck those copycats,” cursed Harvard.

Another copycat knelt on ceramic shards and cried messily. He then started promoting all sorts of ceramic mugs, to great success.

“I did it better. I cut off my fingers!” uttered Harvard vehemently. “But I only have around 10,000 followers. That’s not fair.”

He felt high from his sudden surge in popularity. He needed to release another video before his audience hopped onto the next big thing. Suddenly, he came across a video entitled “Three-timer caught red-handed!”. It was from a bystander’s point of view, and Harvard saw Lilly.

“Yes!” An idea came to his mind. Harvard saved and edited the video heavily. He then gave it a title, Lilly Caught Red-Handed. SHE HAD THREE BOYFRIENDS?

That clickbaity title was sure to attract viewers. And as he expected, his follower count skyrocketed. Everyone was sharing and commenting on the video. Harvard was smart enough to insert an advertisement in it. And with high viewership, he was due to receive a huge payout.

“You’re a moneymaker, Lilly,” said Harvard greedily. Inside the dim room, Harvard’s wicked grin was reflected on his laptop screen.

The next day, Harvard woke up with bloodshot eyes. The first thing he did was check his phone.

“3,268 dollars in a day? Jesus!” Harvard jumped from his bed. “3,000 a day… That’s around 100,000 dollars per month.”

So why bother working nine to five anyway? Harvard immediately tendered his resignation notice.

Someone knocked on Harvard’s door impatiently. “Harvard! When are you going to pay the rent? You owe me several months of rent already.”

Outside the room, the portly landlady, Gemma Sullivan, was tapping her feet. She mumbled to herself, “This Harvard hasn’t paid his rent for six months. He either avoids me or pretends that he isn’t home. Am I going to get my rent today?”

Harvard lived in Apartment 404. It was facing the stairwell and was far away from the windows. His rent was 450 dollars per month. Six months of overdue rent amounted to 2,700 dollars in total, and factoring in the utility fees…

“You owe me 3,268 dollars in total, Harvard.”

Gemma knocked again, though she didn’t expect Harvard to respond. She knew how lazy Harvard was. And how bad he was with finance. Despite his mediocre income, he splurged it on cigarettes and video games.

Gemma sighed, just as Jean, who was on her shoulder, sneezed. All of a sudden, Gemma could hear scuffling noises from behind the door.