Chen Yansen glanced at the clock and muttered under his breath, "I shouldn't have waited for her. I thought women took a long time to shower… didn't expect girls to be the same."
"Yeah, it's almost one o'clock, and we haven't had lunch yet," Wang Zihao groaned, rubbing his stomach weakly.
A creak sounded—the door opened. Song Yuncheng pushed her suitcase out and walked toward them, water dripping from her rain-soaked clothes. She looked up at Chen Yansen and said coolly, "Since you've admitted your mistake, I won't pursue it. I'll wash my own clothes. Just… be more careful when you drive next time."
She had been furious, but seeing her underwear and T-shirt tangled together made her realize how absurd the situation had been. Asking a boy to wash her clothes? The thought alone was laughable.
Chen Yansen smiled lightly. "Let me treat you to a meal as an apology. We've been waiting so long—look at my friend here, he's nearly starving." He pointed to Wang Zihao, who immediately scowled.
"You son of a—Chen Yansen, you're mean!" Wang Zihao exclaimed, hands on his hips.
Song Yuncheng couldn't help but laugh. She wanted to refuse, but seeing Wang Zihao sulk and Chen Yansen grin cheekily, she realized it would be pointless. She had to at least teach him a lesson.
"Are you really students of Xucheng Academy?" she asked, curiosity creeping into her voice.
Chen Yansen extended his hand, introducing himself with a calm, confident tone. "I'm Chen Yansen, 2010 journalism major. This chubby guy here doesn't matter much, but he's Wang Zihao from the 2010 e-commerce class. Nice to meet you."
Song Yuncheng blinked, still slightly wary, but returned the greeting with a smile. "I'm Song Yuncheng, 2009 visual communication design class. Your senior."
Chen Yansen glanced outside. "The rain's stopped. Put your suitcase in the car for a bit. We'll take you back to school after lunch."
"No need," Song Yuncheng said firmly. Accepting his help felt like closing the incident over the rain splash, but taking more would make her seem opportunistic.
"Stop nagging, I'm starving," Chen Yansen waved her off, heading downstairs.
"Senior, you know the restaurants around here—any recommendations?" Wang Zihao asked.
Song Yuncheng thought for a moment, recalling her roommate mentioning a place called QQ-E. "There's a restaurant called QQ-E near the entrance. Affordable, and the food's good."
The trio entered the quiet restaurant. Past lunchtime, the spacious hall was nearly empty. They picked a clean table, scanned the menu, and placed a massive order: stewed chicken, pickled fish, crispy duck, boiled beef, West Lake beef soup, and drinks.
"Isn't that too much?" Song Yuncheng asked, surprised.
"Not enough," Wang Zihao muttered. "Add three more dishes so it's even."
Chen Yansen ignored him. "The portions here are huge. You'll see."
Song Yuncheng widened her eyes as the food arrived in basins larger than any normal serving plates. Wang Zihao gawked, pulling out his phone to snap pictures.
Prices were shockingly low: stewed chicken, 28 yuan; pickled fish, 18 yuan; crispy duck, 18 yuan; West Lake beef soup, 8 yuan. Chen Yansen's lips curled into a nostalgic smile—he remembered coming here for snacks in his previous life.
The three dug in, quickly bonding over school life and college entrance exam experiences. Conversation flowed easily.
When Chen Yansen and Wang Zihao learned Song Yuncheng would be welcoming new students the next day and selling phone cards part-time, they exchanged knowing glances.
"How much commission per card?" Chen Yansen asked casually.
"Thirty yuan after activation. Ten cards cover my monthly living expenses," Song Yuncheng replied, hope flickering in her eyes.
To Wang Zihao, this seemed pitifully low—he got 800 yuan from his father—but for Chen Yansen, it was just enough. In his past life, frugality had been a survival skill: rice with soup on weekdays, tofu and bean sprouts on other days, and chili sauce as a weekend treat.
"You eat so little and still look amazing," Chen Yansen thought, glancing at her discreetly.
He leaned forward, offering, "Work with us. We'll give you fifty yuan commission per card."
"You sell cards too? Aren't you just freshmen?" Song Yuncheng's eyes widened.
Chen Yansen explained patiently, "We're the general agents for China Telecom here. You'd get a second-level agent commission."
Song Yuncheng shook her head. "I promised my senior." Experience had taught her the value of keeping promises.
"Remember what I said, Zihao? A person with too strong a moral compass never gets rich." Chen Yansen teased, using her as a lesson.
"I think keeping promises is more important than twenty yuan," Song Yuncheng said softly, earning Wang Zihao's awkward chuckle.
The rest of the meal passed quietly. After leaving, Chen Yansen opened the car door for her.
"Junior Chen… do you think I'm too stupid?" she asked hesitantly.
"No. Kindness and keeping promises are the qualities of a good person," he replied, grinning.
"Then why did you—"
"Because I'm not a good person," Chen Yansen said casually, parking the car in front of the dormitory.
Song Yuncheng blinked, speechless. This boy spouted strange logic with a wicked sense of humor.
By the time they reached the dorm, Chen Yansen leaned down slightly, helping her unbuckle her seatbelt. "By the way… do you have a boyfriend?"