NOVEL WEB Chapter 208: Starting Over
Looking back now, Harry felt that he had been a little too hasty. How could he start doing something inappropriate to someone as soon as he entered their home?
He hadn't even followed the proper steps to woo a girl, hadn't tried to progress gradually—instead, he'd gone straight to groping her breasts. This was obviously a major taboo in pickup artistry.
It was a mistake born of overconfidence, a grave error of impatience!
However, based on Harry's experience, he had given Anya 300,000 USD as life-saving money. No matter what, she should have been able to tolerate this much.
She shouldn't have lost her temper so quickly, throwing the 300,000 USD back at him and telling him to get out...
"Could it be... that I sent the wrong LV bag?... It was supposed to be foolproof, so why didn't it work on Anya..."
Harry suddenly remembered the LV bag Anya had slapped against his chest!
He immediately began recalling Anya's weaknesses and preferences.
Only then did he remember—according to the system's prompts, Anya didn't actually care about money. The reason she had fallen for Ben was that he had promised to marry her properly and told her she would become the factory owner's wife in the future, solving her employment issues.
But more importantly, it was due to the pressure from Anya's parents and the desperate compromise she had made to save her father's life.
In truth, Anya had no strong desire for money and no interest in luxury goods!
A literary-minded woman like her should never be treated the same as an ordinary woman.
Buying her a designer bag would only expose his ulterior motives, make him seem sleazy, and disgust an idealistic, artsy girl like Anya—someone who prided herself on being above such vulgar materialism.
Such women despised worldly decadence and constantly pursued noble elegance.
Naturally, they would look down on the things that materialistic, status-obsessed women adored.
So, giving her the bag hadn't helped his pursuit at all—in fact, it had backfired!
"Women's hearts are as unfathomable as a needle in the ocean! This time, I made the mistake of relying on past experience. I must learn from this!"
Harry muttered to himself, finally understanding where he'd gone wrong.
Most women worshipped luxury goods, willing to sell their bodies or become sugar babies for the sake of designer items. But that didn't mean all women were like that.
At the very least, Anya was a naive, artsy girl who hated luxury goods and adored literature and refined tastes.
So... when dealing with an unconventional, literary woman like her, the gift had to be just as unique!
Harry pondered deeply.
The kind of man Anya liked was romantic, elegant, cultured, and talented.
Of course, he couldn't give her something tacky!
If he wanted to impress her, the gift had to showcase his sophistication, romance, and intellect—something that would make her feel she'd met her soulmate, her true love!
For a self-righteous, artsy woman like Anya, luxury goods would only disgust her and make him seem cheap.
So this time, Harry immediately dismissed the idea of designer gifts.
Practical items like clothes, shoes, food, or daily necessities were also rejected one by one.
After a long deliberation, Harry finally decided to head to the ten-dollar section of the mall's basement—a bargain market—to pick out something special.
Harry was now a literary expert, his artistic and cultural knowledge far surpassing that of ordinary people.
Even Anya, a graduate of a top-tier university's literature program, was no match for him.
So! The gift itself didn't matter, nor did its price.
What mattered was that it had to be elegant, romantic, and reflective of his artistic taste and talent!
Once he grasped this, Harry felt enlightened.
After some browsing, he settled on:
A uniquely shaped perfume bottle
An hourglass filled with sand
A photo frame adorned with a few maple leaves
Two small clay figurines of women
These were all cheap trinkets from the bargain bin, the kind of decorative junk that gathered dust in the corners of gift shops.
Harry went to the counter to pay. The shopkeeper charged him just 30 USD for all four items, even giving him a 10-dollar discount.
After casually wiping the dusty gifts with a wet wipe, Harry held them with a smug grin.
"Not bad—30 USD instead of 30,000 USD for an LV bag. That's a huge saving!"
He felt quite pleased with his sudden stroke of inspiration.
Though he wasn't sure if these gifts would win Anya over, wouldn't it be better to spend the 30,000 USD he'd saved on food instead?
Once the gifts were ready, Harry rehearsed his presentation in his mind. After running through it several times, he started his car and drove toward Anya's home.
Having learned from his previous experience, Harry was much calmer this time.
After parking his car, he calmly prepared his phone and aimed it toward the spot where Anya would appear. The moment she stepped out, Harry quickly snapped a candid shot, capturing her youthful, radiant beauty—her sunny, attractive charm frozen perfectly on his screen.
This natural street-style photo, featuring her baby face and voluptuous figure, was undeniably alluring.
"Anya, I'm here!" This time, Harry was far more composed. Gone was the naked hunger from their first encounter—instead, he deliberately exuded an air of elegance and gentleness, like a refined intellectual.
"Oh... Harry... Brother Harry... It's so windy today... so strong... This is so embarrassing!... If I'd known... I should've changed into something nicer before coming down..."
Everything played out exactly as before, and Harry could even predict Anya's next moves—an eerie sense of déjà vu settled over him.
This time, Harry followed the same script. After naturally inquiring about her father's condition, he transferred 300,000 USD to Anya for his treatment. But unlike before, Harry restrained himself, maintaining a gentlemanly distance despite his burning desire for her exquisite, tempting curves.
This restraint significantly boosted Anya's favorability toward him.
Ding! 300,000 USD has been credited to your Bank account...
[Anya's intimacy with you: +30 (80 intimacy)]
[Anya's current state: grateful, touched, excited, ashamed, surprised, shy, nervous, thrilled, conflicted]
Observing Anya's reaction, Harry realized she was far less guarded than before.
Of course—last time, I was too aggressive. This is her home, and I went straight for physical contact. Any decent girl would find that sleazy and instinctively resist.
"Brother Harry! How... why so much... this... I don't feel right about it... I... I'll write you an IOU! I swear I'll pay you back once I start earning!" Anya repeated the same grateful words as before.
"Silly girl, why bother with an IOU? It's fine. Pay me back when you can—if not, just owe me." This time, Harry didn't force closeness. Instead, he reached out naturally, gently brushing away the tears at the corners of her eyes.
Keeping distance forever wasn't the goal—controlled, natural advances were still necessary.
Wiping her tears, a tender gesture like an older brother comforting his sister, not only touched Anya's sensitive heart but also avoided triggering her defenses.
Following the rhythm of seduction, Harry softly stroked her cheek, his thumb carefully wiping away her tears.
Anya's face had a hint of baby fat, her oval shape rounding slightly without looking chubby—adorable beyond words.
Her skin was delicate and smooth, warm and soft under his touch, sending a pleasant thrill through him.
After the initial physical contact—holding her hand when passing her phone—Harry's movements now felt natural. Anya no longer tensed up but instead grew accustomed to his touch, even responding with a moved, happy smile.
"There's no beauty that rivals this sight!A vision of grace, bathed in light.Stunning, radiant, beyond compare,Perfection itself, beyond all fair!"
This time, Harry didn't rush to give a gift. Instead, he turned away, clasped his hands behind his back, gazed upward dramatically, and recited his own improvised poetry.
"Brother Harry... what... what are you saying?... Who... are you praising..." Anya watched him, his theatrical pose and emotional expression making her giggle shyly, though her heart fluttered.
"Nothing... nothing... just... a momentary outburst of emotion..." After his performative sigh, Harry feigned embarrassment. "Sorry, I got carried away and spouted nonsense. Forgive me, Anya..."