The sudden commotion at the dorm door drew everyone's attention.
"Want a drink?" Chen Yansen asked, holding snacks in one hand and a cold beer in the other, smiling brightly.
"I… I don't drink," Song Yang mumbled, hesitating on the bed.
He had a slight social anxiety, and Chen Yansen's casual presence made him even more nervous.
Can't drink? What nonsense! Chen Yansen thought. Back in Qingdao, we downed a dozen Blue Ribbon 1844s like it was nothing.
"Stop stalling! Either you get down here, or I'll come up myself," Chen Yansen said with a grin, blatantly threatening.
"Brother Sen, I'll drink with you," Zhu Xiaopeng said, realizing he owed Chen Yansen at least some respect after criticizing him before. He grinned as he approached.
Damn it's hot, and there's no fan—Tang Zhenzhe cursed, hopping out of bed and grabbing a beer.
Chen Yansen set his suitcase aside, dumped the snacks across the table, and stacked them high—easily two or three hundred yuan worth.
"You're generous, fellow villager! Save me a chicken leg!" Wang Zhengqiang said, dragging over a chair and praising him.
"Bobo, Yangyang, you two are the only ones missing," Wang added, glancing at the remaining pair.
Meng Xibo and Song Yang exchanged glances but quickly joined in, no longer shy.
"Brother Chen Sen, looks like you've made quite a bit from the campus card agency, huh?" Meng Xibo asked cautiously.
Chen Yansen shrugged casually. "It's nothing. Just running errands for a small fee."
He knew that 150,000 yuan a day would shock the dorm crew—they survived on five or six hundred yuan a month at most.
Meng Xibo frowned, not fully believing him. "Brother Sen… 50 yuan per card commission, right?"
Chen Yansen smirked. "Want to sell campus cards? Come find me at the telecom station tomorrow."
Zhu Xiaopeng's eyes lit up. "Brother Sen, can I do it too?"
Chen Yansen scanned the room. Everyone except Song Yang, the quiet tycoon, showed interest. Some hesitated out of politeness, but most were eager.
I came to catch up with an old classmate… instead, I've turned this into an agent recruitment fair, Chen Yansen thought, shaking his head.
"Tomorrow, anyone who wants to sell cards, come see me. Enough about this—let's talk about A-Qiang's love history. Did he actually lose his virginity in the end?"
"Tsk tsk tsk, your thoughts are too dirty," Wang Zhengqiang said slyly. "I couldn't resist pressure, and… I gave away my first kiss."
Tang Zhenzhe groaned. "Tch, boring!"
"Everyone with dirty thoughts, go stand in the corner and reflect!" Wang laughed.
The group erupted in laughter, but curiosity lingered.
Tang Zhenzhe, unable to resist, finally asked, "Wait… do you really have a Mercedes E300?"
"I rented it," Chen Yansen said calmly.
Everyone exchanged skeptical glances. Sometimes, the truth was harder to believe than a lie.
The night dragged on with endless chatter—games, comics, movies, sports, Japanese action stars… The dorm room buzzed like a hive.
The next morning, Chen Yansen groaned.
"These animals! Snoring, grinding teeth, talking in sleep… this dorm is a chicken coop!"
Brushing his teeth and washing his face, he headed toward the telecom station, stopping to grab breakfast along the way.
He spotted a familiar face.
"Xiao Chen! Perfect timing! These two want to sell campus cards. Talk to them," Gu Wenwen waved without hesitation, munching on breakfast.
"This is Jiang Ruoxuan, a third-year student. We want to become your secondary agents," she said.
"No problem. 20 cards each, 50 yuan commission. Leave your contact info and student ID; I'll register you," Chen Yansen instructed calmly.
Jiang Ruoxuan's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected this level of courtesy.
"Thank you, Junior Chen," she said with a slight bow.
"Just do your work. Second-level agents are full anyway. I made an exception for Song Yuncheng," Chen Yansen said lightly, waving them off.
After they left, Chen Yansen turned to Song Yuncheng.
"How will you thank me?"
"I… I'll treat you to dinner," she replied reluctantly.
"No need. Just a kiss," Chen Yansen said, smiling, eyes narrowed in playful mischief.
Song Yuncheng froze. Did he really just…?
Chen Yansen extended his smooth, slender hand. "Palm or back of the hand, your choice."
She sighed in relief—just a hand kiss, not scary at all. But the mischief in Chen Yansen's smile… it left a lingering tension.
"You don't want to? Then give me back my card," Chen Yansen teased.
Song Yuncheng's face reddened. Tears pricked her eyes. This man… what a jerk!
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