I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 32 From Girl Group's Thighs to Dubai's Economy!

At ten o'clock at night, Walid sat alone in the inner study of his palace.

A Saudi high school geography textbook was spread out on the table.

He leaned back in the comfortable leather chair, his fingertips unconsciously toying with a fountain pen.

The fruit my mother had brought me a few minutes ago was right next to me.

Walid was a little bored.

Simba, standing at his feet, looked utterly dejected, indicating that his master was absolutely right.

This is supposed to be a great season for mating!

But Walid needs to sit here and put on a show.

What needs to be memorized still needs to be memorized.

Mathematics, physics, chemistry, computer science, and English are all easy; they're a piece of cake.

Geology and geography can only be memorized.

Fortunately, he was once a college student and had mastered the skill of speedrunning very well.

His gaze fell on the corner of the desk.

There were several sheets of coated paper that my mother had just brought.

The first one is the admission brochure for "international undergraduate students" of a famous Chinese university.

His fingertips gently brushed over the printed campus scenery pictures.

The moonlight over the lotus pond, the reflection of Tsinghua University.

This is the scenery of Tsinghua University.

Walid's lips slowly curled into a cold smile, and he let out a sneer.

"(ˉ▽￣～) Tch~~!"

With a flick of the wrist, the brochure depicting the scenery of Tsinghua University fell into the trash can like a piece of waste paper.

How could a mere third-rate university website be worthy of his distinguished status?!
Peking University, a world-class university just across the street, isn't that better?

Born a Peking University student, die a Peking University soul!
Getting me into Tsinghua University? Absolutely impossible!

What he wanted to see was the rippling waves of Weiming Lake and the silhouette of the towering Boya Pagoda!

That was the spirit of Peking University, the only place his soul believed it belonged to!

Only someone with a screw loose would go to Tsinghua University!

Of course, more importantly, who is he?

Walid bin Khalid!
The new leader of the Saudi royal family's Talal faction!

Why send a prince, the heir to a throne, a future politician, military leader, reformer, thinker, and prime minister, to Tsinghua University?
What should I learn?
Is it a computer or microelectronics?
Is it civil engineering or architecture?
Is it mechanical, automation, nuclear physics, or aerospace?
It's simply a horror of slipping the world!

The blood flowing in his veins is that of someone who controls the flow of resources and manipulates the lifeline of the nation!
Clearly, only economics!

Especially political economy!

The expertise he relied on in his past life to navigate complex situations is the perfect match for his status and position in this life, and the power he will wield in the future!

That strategic planning and ability to control the economic lifeline of a nation is what truly makes him worthy of the title!

Returning to one's old profession is nothing more than making one's talents from past and present lives as nimble as an extension of one's own limbs!

Wild beasts always roam alone, while cattle and sheep flock together.
Do not!
Wild animals usually live in groups, unless all their companions die.

Foreign students have many universities to choose from in China. Those aspiring to the military focus on defense-related institutions, while those aspiring to economics, finance, and business favor top-tier finance and economics universities.

But those aspiring to a political career will definitely choose Peking University.

As China's top comprehensive university, Peking University is particularly known for its humanities and social sciences, such as political science, economics, international relations, and law, and has always been an important cradle for China's political elites.

Its academic reputation, alumni network, and prime location in China's capital make it highly attractive to international students aspiring to pursue careers in politics and diplomacy.

What Walid needs to do is knock on this door and obtain the resources inside.

And it must be obtained in the shortest possible time.

After all, he wasn't really going to study; he was just trying to get a diploma.

After all, a major upheaval is expected in Saudi Arabia two years from now, and a showdown at Xuanwu Gate is inevitable.

He must claim credit for this merit of supporting the emperor's ascension to the throne.

The fastest way to obtain a diploma is through your previous life's major.

This high school diploma from Saudi Arabia is merely the most basic key to unlocking that door.

To obtain this key, he needs to portray the image of a genius young man who has "accumulated knowledge and experience before unleashing his full potential."

Every day, he would demonstrate his "instant understanding" in front of his teachers, offering insightful observations that went beyond the syllabus without being outrageous, prompting the renowned teachers, who had been hired at great expense, to exclaim in amazement, "Your Highness is a genius!"

Then, these exclamations would reach the ears of the general public through teachers, servants, and butlers.

Of course, the only "side effect" was that it completely ignited the mother's "disappointment" in her younger sister Luna's lack of progress in education.

Just as his thoughts were drifting, Angari knocked on the study door.

"Your Highness, Prince Muhammad and Prince Turki have come to visit."

For Saudis, 10 p.m. is just after dinner, and can even be considered one of the peak times for normal social and business activities.

After all, with high temperatures year-round and daytime temperatures often exceeding 45°C in summer, people naturally shift their outdoor activities to the cooler nighttime.

Walid was secretly pleased to hear Angari's report.

Unlike before, when Turki came first and Muhammad came last, now Muhammad's name comes first.

This is also a characteristic of the desert, where everything is based on strength, not seniority.

Another purpose of the bet was to force Salman to make a decision about his successor ahead of time.

With the Talal faction standing behind him, it would be an injustice if Muhammad did not rise to power.

Otherwise, even Salman himself wouldn't be able to hold onto his position as crown prince.

Angari's announcement was merely a formality, a matter of procedure and, more importantly, a reflection of his duty.

In fact, Muhammad and Turki were already standing side by side behind him.

Prince Khalid was currently deep within the mansion, and this invisible barrier was enough to allow the young princes to come and go without many of the cumbersome formalities of the separation of men and women.

Moreover, having experienced that dramatic power reshuffle, the relationship between these three individuals has long transcended ordinary royal interactions.

It's more like a friendly exchange between close family members, carrying a sense of casualness and intimacy.

"Hey! Walid! May the Lord grant you peace!"

Muhammad grinned so wide his back teeth showed.

Turki whistled, deliberately drawing out the sound:
"I heard Uncle Khalid flew to Dubai himself a few days ago? Wow!"

He slapped Walid on the back, winking at him.
"The louder some people were when they called me a 'beast,' the more swollen their faces are now!"
What do you call that? You're worse than an animal!

Little Angari entered and led Simba out, leaving room for conversation.

Muhammad leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his gaze habitually sweeping over the furnishings of the study.

My gaze swept over the heavy books spread out on the table, over the notebooks covered with writing, and then, without warning, it struck the dazzling white and colorful expanse on the opposite wall.

He and Turki were both subjected to a spell that immobilized them.

"Hiss!" X2
It wasn't because I saw Walid studying diligently.

This guy's reputation as a top student has already started to spread in society.

Actually, no one was surprised. After all, a young man who could already manipulate politics with a flick of his wrist was just a little extraordinary.

What made them gasp was that wall.

To be precise, it was the posters on the wall.

Girls' Generation - Genie

Nine Asian girls, dressed in super-short stage outfits adorned with sequins, radiated bright smiles, meticulously applied makeup, and displayed energetic poses…

Okay, those thighs, so white they were almost blinding under the lights, with such firm and smooth lines...

Turki's mouth was slightly open, big enough to fit a date, his eyes fixed on the poster, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with difficulty.

A look of almost absurd astonishment crossed Muhammad's face. Although the lives of princes were usually characterized by extravagance, debauchery, and corruption…

But at this moment, both Muhammad and Turki wanted to severely criticize Walid.

Inner study!
This guy actually had posters of female celebrities blatantly displayed in his study, and they even showed off long, white legs!
This is strictly prohibited under Wahhabism.

The doctrine forbids "idol worship," including the prohibition of displaying portraits of people, especially female figures, and even more specifically, explicit ones.

Muhammad's lips twitched involuntarily.

Okay, this is Walid's house, the inner study...

Apart from the two of them, probably not even a fly could get in to spy on them.

More importantly, the Talal branch is a well-known outlier in the royal lineage, with the mark of "rebellion against the king" deeply ingrained.

Compared to the outrageous things their family has done in history, Walid simply posted a few posters of foreign female celebrities...

It seems, perhaps, maybe, not particularly outrageous?

Walid's gaze fell on the two petrified brothers. His face showed no embarrassment at being caught in the act, but rather a strange composure.

There's even a hint of the amusement of a successful prank.

One by one, hypocrites!
He's a womanizer, more so than anyone else!

He casually shrugged. "A South Korean girl group. Girls' Generation."

"Wow……"

Turki seemed to snap out of a daze, his gaze still fixed on the poster, filled with undisguised envy.

"You're living the life you want, kid... tsk."

He clicked his tongue, then frowned, a look of confusion and criticism on his face.

"But... Walid, to be honest, I feel like they..."

Aside from a slight difference in height, they all look pretty much the same.

"They look like they were made from the same mold?"

Walid, who went to get soda from the refrigerator, almost threw out his back when he heard this.

He turned around and glanced at Turki speechlessly.

Although he admitted in his heart that the assembly-line star-making industry in the South Korean entertainment industry did indeed make many girl group members look very similar...

But this is Girls' Generation!
Girls' Generation, with its nine members each possessing distinct personalities, boasts a level of recognizability that is arguably the pinnacle of Korean girl groups!

But he didn't want to explain anything. Just like how Chinese people think Middle Easterners all look pretty much the same, Middle Easterners think Asians the same way.

Walid pursed his lips and handed the soda water to the two of them.

Muhammad, who had been silent all along, stepped forward and finally looked away from the poster, his gaze landing on Walid's face.

His deep eyes were now filled with sudden realization, and he slowly uttered an "Oh—" in a drawn-out tone.

"I knew it,"

Mohammed's gaze swept back and forth between Walid and the poster.

"Several times before I offered to send you a few well-trained and sensible maids, but you always made excuses and acted like a saint who was indifferent to women and had no desires."

So that's how it is..."

He paused, gestured with his chin towards the poster, and his tone was almost dripping with sarcasm.

"So this is what you like? This delicate, slender type?"

Turki stroked his chin, a look of utter bewilderment on his face, as he added insult to injury.

"Looking at them... I don't know what's so good about them? They're all skinny, no chests or butts, they'd probably fall over in the wind."

Their expressions were full of disapproval of this "heretical aesthetic".

Walid was so taken aback by this sudden "aesthetic criticism" that he rolled his eyes.

Well, I must say he also can't understand Saudi mainstream aesthetics.

In the past, this place was like China's Tang Dynasty, where plumpness was considered beautiful.

Although things are different now, a fuller figure is still admired because it symbolizes wealth, health, and fertility.

Especially after marriage, if a wife is too slim, her husband's family's financial situation will be questioned.

Moreover, Saudi Arabia's high-sugar, high-fat diet makes it difficult to lose weight.

Here, Walid is truly grateful for his family.

The dietary habits of the Talal people are not like this.

His grandmother and mother, both of whom were Lebanese, were the matriarchs of the household.

Walid also suspected that his grandfather and father were also trying to avoid endogamy.

Marrying one's own cousin, niece, or something like that... it's really hard to describe.

Although it is a Middle Eastern country, Lebanon is the most Westernized country in the Middle East.

As a result, there were quite a few white people eating at Walid's house, and their health management was also very thorough.

Therefore, my deceased grandmother, mother, and aunt were not fat.

Of course, no one would dare say that his mother was slim because the Talal region was poor.

As a member of an "outcast family," Walid said he couldn't be bothered to argue with these "mainstream" people!

He has a Chinese soul at heart, so he naturally prefers Asian styles, and the two women in front of him naturally prefer Arab women.

It's not that Walid thinks Arab women aren't pretty, at least not his two fiancées...

Well, Princess Samantha is still too young to tell.

But the exotic charm of the sixth princess, Sanama, remained firmly in his heart.

But if we're talking about who's pleasing to the eye and easy to get used to, it has to be East Asian girls.

After blinking and inviting them to sit down, Walid began to speak in a serious tone.

"Brothers, I have a question for you."

Muhammad and Turki were taken aback by his sudden seriousness and instinctively switched to listening mode.

"Saudi Arabia and Dubai in the UAE, we also possess land flowing with black gold, a source of wealth bestowed by Allah."

In 1982, like us, their fiscal revenue came from oil and gas, accounting for 90% of their total revenue.

Walid's voice was not loud, but every word was clear.

"But, thirty years have passed..."

He leaned forward slightly. "What did Dubai do?"
They voluntarily reduced oil production from its peak of 410,000 barrels per day to less than 50,000 barrels per day!

what does that mean?"

Turki instinctively wanted to respond, but Walid stopped him by raising his hand.

Walid didn't need their answers; his gaze was fixed intently on Muhammad and Turki.

"This means that their development has long since broken free from the shackles of oil!"

Look at us, my brothers!

Walid spread his hands, as if displaying a shocking bill.

"What percentage of our fiscal revenue came from oil and gas last year?"

More than 90%!
And what about Dubai?

Less than five percent!

What percentage of our GDP does the petroleum industry and related sectors account for?
More than 70%!
And what about Dubai?

Only 1.5%! Less than that!

He sneered, "Tell me, why?"
Why are we left far behind, even though we have the same starting point and even more abundant and easily accessible resources?

Are people in Dubai smarter than us?
Are they more diligent than us?

Or is it that their oil fields are flowing with gold, while ours are flowing with sand?

(End of this chapter)