Chen Yansen froze, stunned by the girl's furious outburst.
He looked her over carefully. Her white T-shirt and jeans were soaked and splattered with muddy water. Instantly, he realized what had happened—the puddle they'd just driven through.
"Do you want me to wash them for you, or just pay you back?" Chen Yansen asked bluntly, his voice calm but direct.
"I… I don't know either. What do you suggest?" Song Yuncheng's momentum faltered. Her tone softened, surprised that the boy, who had just seemed so arrogant, admitted fault so readily—as if ready to submit to her wrath.
The brick in her hand loosened its grip, clattering to the ground.
Chen Yansen continued without missing a beat. "Okay. First, you take off your wet clothes and hand them to me. I'll wash them and return them. Second, I'll pay you three hundred yuan. Your choice."
Song Yuncheng froze. He was reasonable, not trying to exploit her, and the extra money was hardly necessary—her outfit probably cost less than a hundred yuan. And despite the rain, she couldn't deny his good attitude.
"I don't want money," she said firmly, shaking her head.
"Alright," Chen Yansen nodded. "There's a hotel just ahead. You can get a room to change."
"No, no need," Song Yuncheng replied quickly, waving her hands. She didn't want to be alone with two strangers in a hotel room.
"You don't expect me to watch you strip right here, do you?" Chen Yansen added, half joking, half serious.
Song Yuncheng's lips twitched. He was ridiculous… yet somehow, oddly trustworthy. After a moment, she reluctantly agreed.
The hotel was only forty or fifty meters away. Chen Yansen restarted the car, pulling it to the entrance.
The receptionist glanced up, startled by the two men and the drenched girl walking in.
"Three of your most expensive rooms," Chen Yansen said, pulling out his wallet with casual extravagance. His principle was simple: money was for spending, never compromise yourself.
The receptionist hesitated. "Uh… we only have one room left. Lots of students and parents are registering these days."
"There's another hotel up ahead," Song Yuncheng whispered.
The receptionist's eyes flicked toward the Mercedes. "That one's not for you," he said, glancing at the luxury car. "It's small, shabby, and old. Probably fine for students, but not for you three."
Chen Yansen asked about the remaining room. "Single or double?"
"A double, maximum two people," the receptionist replied seriously.
Song Yuncheng panicked internally. She just needed to change—how could she explain that without it sounding wrong?
"ID card, two hundred yuan deposit, visitors must register," the receptionist continued, preparing the paperwork.
Minutes later, they walked up the stairs—two men and one anxious young woman.
Song Yuncheng trailed behind, uneasy. They claimed to be Xucheng Academy students, but she hadn't seen their IDs. And… who drives a Mercedes and rents expensive rooms as a student? Her instincts screamed at her to run.
"Hey! What are you thinking about? Is your suitcase too heavy?" Chen Yansen called, noticing her dawdling. He grabbed the suitcase and stomped upstairs.
"Give me back my suitcase!" Song Yuncheng shouted, pale with frustration.
"It's not heavy. Here," he said, handing it over gently.
Her gaze lingered on him. Tall, straight posture, short neat hair, sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, carefree smile—it was impossible to deny he was handsome. But he didn't look dangerous.
"He… doesn't seem like a bad person," she muttered, lying to herself.
Chen Yansen chuckled quietly, seeing through her lie, and walked toward the room.
After hesitating, Song Yuncheng followed.
"Beep beep beep—"
Chen Yansen swiped the card through the electronic lock, revealing a semi-transparent frosted glass bathroom door.
"Here's the key. Change your clothes, come out when you're done. We'll wait at the door," he said, handing her the card and gesturing for Wang Zihao to step out.
Song Yuncheng's mind spun. In just over ten minutes, she'd gone from furious and defensive to cautious trust. Perhaps this carefree-looking boy wasn't dangerous after all.
She laid down her suitcase, retrieved a fresh set of clothes, and entered the bathroom. The damp outfit clung to her skin, uncomfortable and heavy. Gradually, her fair, rosy skin was revealed as she removed the wet clothing.
Chen Yansen leaned against the wall outside, tapping away on his phone.
"Brother Sen, this girl's pretty. Probably a senior," Wang Zihao whispered, nudging him.
"Hmm, maybe," Chen Yansen replied, finishing his reply to Meng Jie. He put the phone down and turned to Wang Zihao. "Our school's location isn't great, but the quality of students—seniors and juniors—is good. It just depends which type you prefer."
Wang Zihao smirked. "Brother Sen, you know me… I've always preferred the bigger ones."
Chen Yansen rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling at his friend's cheekiness.