On the way back to the dorm, Tang Zhenzhe lagged behind, pulling Chen Yansen along.
"Brother Sen, you've really put me in a tight spot," Tang Zhenzhe muttered, face twisted in bitterness.
"Don't pretend with me," Chen Yansen rolled his eyes. "You think being a class monitor in college is the same as in high school? The resources this position unlocks go far beyond your imagination."
He continued, enumerating with precision:"Priority in joining the Party. No worries about failing exams because of roll call or dormitory inspections. More chances to meet girls. Student union presidents are usually picked from class monitors—you could even end up a department head."
"Looking at how sharp you dress every day, you're probably not planning to be single for four years, right?" Chen Yansen's eyes sparkled as he teased.
"Believe it or not, I'll sue you for defamation! I dated two people in high school!" Tang Zhenzhe fired back.
"Left hand or right hand?" Chen Yansen laughed lightly.
"Hahaha! Zhe, tell me honestly, have you ever been in a relationship?" Zhu Xiaopeng grinned, unable to resist.
"Brother Sen looks like an old hand, he's definitely right!" Meng Xibo echoed.
Wang Zhengqiang's eyes flickered with envy. "So being class monitor has all these perks… I wish I'd tried it too."
Tang Zhenzhe finally exhaled, a sincere smile forming. "Brother Sen, thank you."
Chen Yansen waved a hand, mischief glinting in his eyes. "No need to be so formal between us."
Even Tang Zhenzhe, who usually bristled at teasing, couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.
"Brother Sen, I have three left," Song Yang finally spoke, patting his pocket to show the unsold campus cards.
Chen Yansen nodded, unsurprised. Song Yang clearly had business instincts; he could probably open a couple of hotels in Qingdao someday.
"Wow! I only sold five? How did you do that?" Zhu Xiaopeng gasped.
"I sold them all!" Meng Xibo boasted, leveraging his hometown association to sell all ten cards in one afternoon.
"Bobo's awesome! I only managed three," Wang Zhengqiang muttered, glancing awkwardly at Tang Zhenzhe.
"I sold nine," Tang Zhenzhe chuckled, and Wang Zhengqiang's embarrassment deepened. Men loved to compare, whether it was wealth, skill, or numbers.
"Take the remaining cards," Chen Yansen said, pushing Song Yang's back. "Even though registration's over, people still want campus cards."
"Got it," Song Yang nodded, already strategizing where to find more freshmen.
Chen Yansen walked ahead under the dim streetlights, long shadows stretching behind him.
The next morning, the urgent chirping of birds roused Chen Yansen.
Looks like I'll have to move out… he thought, exhaling. Just surviving his roommate's snoring and teeth grinding was a challenge.
Checking his phone, he saw a new message:
"Mr. Chen, the paperwork is complete. You can pick up your documents anytime."
He replied with an 'OK,' got up, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and dressed in a neatly pressed suit.
Outside, his rented Mercedes E300 gleamed in the morning light. Wang Zihao, equally well-dressed, rushed over, panting.
"Brother Sen, shall we go collect our commission from Zhao Maolin now?" he asked as he got in.
"No rush. First, Huamao. I need to pick up a few things," Chen Yansen replied casually.
Huamao, the busiest mall in Xucheng, was packed, surrounded by offices. Wang Zihao grinned. "Finally leaving Dong'er Village. Feels like we're entering the city."
Chen Yansen parked, and they took the elevator to the first floor. Luxury brands lined the corridor: Dior, Chanel, Tiffany, Cartier. Wang Zihao's jaw dropped slightly, but Chen Yansen remained calm.
"What are we doing here?" Wang Zihao asked, curiosity mixed with impatience.
"Buying a watch," Chen Yansen said succinctly, gesturing toward the luxury watch store.
Inside, he told the saleswoman, "My budget is around 70,000. Recommend three models."
The woman smiled professionally, leading them to a display. She began explaining each model: the Rolex Datejust at 62,800, the Explorer at 61,800, and the Milgauss series for scientific research with anti-magnetic properties.
Chen Yansen interrupted, pointing to the Explorer. "Wrap it. Put the invoice in the box. Can it be returned within a few days if needed?"
The saleswoman's heart sank internally but she forced a smile. "Two days, no problem."
He swiped his card calmly.
"Brother Sen, are you crazy? This watch is 61,800, not 68!" Wang Zihao whispered.
"It's for Zhao Maolin. We made about 30% profit—this shows goodwill. If he tampers with the commission, we have leverage," Chen Yansen explained.
Wang Zihao frowned. "We work our butts off, and he gets 20% for nothing?"
"Then climb the ladder and take it from them next time," Chen Yansen sneered.
Meanwhile, in his office, Zhao Maolin frowned over the phone.
"His father owns a bookstore in Chun Shen. The Mercedes? Registered under a leasing company. He owns a new company called Senhai…"
No power, no money, no background?
Zhao Maolin paced. Chen Yansen's eloquence and insight didn't match the profile of an ordinary bookstore owner. Something was very wrong.