All the way until the meal was finished, Jin Wenyi was still talking about it: “That young man really looks great—tall and handsome, and he seems to be about your age. Most importantly, he’s single.”

Jin Zhao thought to herself: Tsinghua and Peking University look great too, right? The richest man in the world looks great too, right?

Jin Wenyi asked her husband again: “Hurry and think—do we have any friends who might know this young man? We could have someone make an introduction, ask around and find out what kind of person he is.”

Zhao Xu said, “Probably not. Just looking at him, he doesn’t seem like someone from the same world as us.”

Jin Wenyi was in high spirits, and being splashed with cold water by her husband out of the blue made her unhappy. “You have so many students who’ve done well. They come back to see you during the holidays—think carefully.”

“You know so many students. I can’t very well go and ask each one, can I?” Zhao Xu laughed helplessly, then launched into a performance on the spot. “Hey, do you know a President Meng, about twenty-six or twenty-seven, tall, handsome, very good-looking?”

After finishing his bit, Zhao Xu then calmly analyzed it for his wife: “And did you notice that reporter just now? She’s a host from Suiyi TV, often appears on nationwide programs—very famous. Even if she’s not top-tier, she’s at least second-tier domestically. But look at the way she carried herself just now—how low she put herself. Think it through in reverse: could that young man be ordinary? Someone who can reach his position at such a young age, could his family really be an ordinary one?”

“He is good, but we don’t need to belittle ourselves either,” Jin Wenyi said, even giving an example from nearby. “Our colleague’s daughter—you remember her, don’t you?”

Zhao Xu really couldn’t refute that and could only say, “Fate and circumstance really are wondrous things.”

Jin Wenyi then carefully told Jin Zhao that inspirational story. The daughter of an ordinary high school teacher met a princeling of Beijing’s elite circles while she was in university. After marriage, she lived happily ever after—a prince-and-princess ending—using it to encourage Jin Zhao to believe that anything was possible.

Jin Zhao didn’t know what to say.

She always felt that she’d been drinking the same kind of “chicken soup for the soul” since kindergarten. The difference was that in kindergarten the soup was stewed with grades and university; now that she no longer had to study, the soup had started stewing love and marriage instead. In the end, the theme was always other people’s children.

Jin Zhao used going to the restroom as an excuse and took the opportunity to go pay the bill, only to be discovered by Jin Wenyi. Aunt and niece raced each other to the front desk.

One said she should do the honors as the host; the other said she’d only been working for a few days—how could a junior who had just started working be allowed to treat?

Jin Wenyi, a veteran teacher, was full of vigor, and even snatched Jin Zhao’s phone and put it away on the spot.

But the front desk said, “Your table is free today.”

Jin Zhao: “?”

Jin Wenyi: “Free? Why is it free?”

The front desk attendant was a young girl with big eyes and fair skin, striking features, prettier than many internet celebrities. Smiling brightly, she said, “President Meng said that the reporter came by for an impromptu interview today and disturbed everyone’s dining. To express his apologies, this bill will be put on his account.”

Jin Zhao had always known that Meng Yanxi was lavish with money, but this was too outrageous, wasn’t it?

Counting it up, he had only said a couple of sentences as he passed by their table. He hadn’t been loud, hadn’t taken photos, and had left quickly. How did that count as disturbing their meal?

Jin Wenyi also said, “No need. We weren’t disturbed. Whatever it costs is whatever it costs.”

The front desk girl smiled and said, “It’s not just your table. Today the entire restaurant is free.”

“The entire restaurant?” Jin Wenyi was shocked.

Luxi followed a high-end route, with a daily limit of thirty tables. Although Jin Wenyi and her husband, a dual in-system family, were not poor, they were certainly not wealthy either. For a restaurant as expensive as Luxi, she and her husband had always been reluctant to come. This time, it was only to celebrate Jin Zhao finding a job that, after much hesitation, they had finally gritted their teeth and made a reservation.

And now the entire restaurant was comped just like that?

Front desk: “Yes. Our Luxi places great importance on the dining experience of our customers. President Meng said that today he disturbed everyone’s meal and feels deeply apologetic, and hopes it didn’t affect everyone’s good mood.”

Jin Zhao: “……” Originally it hadn’t, but now it had.

She was feeling a bit resentful of the rich.

She even remembered that back then he had given every classmate who danced a skirt—resentment toward the rich plus one.

But the elders quite liked it. From then on, Jin Wenyi’s attitude toward Meng Yanxi went from “not bad” to outright praise: “This young man is really polite. Really not bad.”

Joy turns to sorrow. When getting into the car, Jin Wenyi said she’d left her phone at the front desk.

Jin Zhao was about to go back to get it for her, but Jin Wenyi stopped her. “You get in the car first. I’ll go back myself.”

Jin Wenyi returned to the front desk. The young girl there smiled at her, warm as a spring breeze, and asked, “Hello, did you leave something behind?”

Jin Wenyi leaned her upper body against the marble counter and smiled. “No. I just feel a bit uneasy. Mainly because I don’t even know your President Meng, and yet we ate a meal on his tab without even saying thank you.”

Jin Wenyi was a Chinese teacher. With years of experience matching wits with teenagers, she had a way with words. She also had a gentle, kind-looking face, naturally approachable, and as she grew older, she became more and more experienced at prying out information. As long as she wanted to, there was basically nothing she couldn’t coax out of someone.

But today, before she even began to perform, the front desk girl took the initiative to speak. “President Meng is the owner of Luxi Courtyard. It’s nothing for the boss to comp a meal for guests. If you really feel uneasy, I can give you a phone number—you can personally say thank you to him.”

Jin Wenyi: “!”

This—this smooth?

She hadn’t even used her prepared excuse yet.

Jin Wenyi hurriedly unlocked her phone. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll write it down.”

A slip of paper was pressed under the counter, with a string of numbers written in bold, flowing strokes. The front desk girl calmly read them out.

Everything went so smoothly that Jin Wenyi’s hand even trembled a little. After finishing writing, just as she was about to confirm again, Jin Zhao came in from outside. “Aunt, did you find your phone?”

Jin Wenyi quickly exited the notes app, turned off the screen, and lifted the phone to shake it once. “Found it.”

“Then let’s go. Uncle said he wants to go see my school.”

Jin Wenyi said okay, and didn’t forget to turn back and say to the front desk, “Thank you, young lady!”

The front desk smiled. “You’re welcome. Take care on your way, Auntie.”

In the afternoon, Jin Zhao took her aunt and uncle for a brief walk around campus. In the evening, Jin Wenyi and her husband had an appointment to have dinner with Jin Wenhui’s family, so they left around four-thirty in the afternoon.

Jin Wenyi didn’t ask Jin Zhao whether she wanted to go along, and Jin Zhao also pretended not to know their later plans.

After that incident years ago, Jin Wenhui had devoted himself wholeheartedly to his new family, acting as if he didn’t have this daughter at all. During the years Jin Zhao studied alone abroad, only Jin Wenyi and her husband had gone to see her twice. Jin Wenhui had never asked after her, and Jin Zhao had long since stopped expecting anything.

Compared to caring about other people’s happiness or misfortune, she looked forward more to her own life.

It wasn’t only now—it seemed she had been like this since childhood.

National Day arrived in the blink of an eye. Jin Wenyi arranged a blind date for her. After a brief hesitation, she agreed.

Jin Wenyi was right. The first step in choosing a partner was to stop resisting.

Stop resisting forgetting that person; stop resisting meeting more people, and try to find one to like.

The time was set for noon on October first, and the place was a Thai restaurant near the school.

The elective course she was teaching this semester, British and American Poetry, would officially begin after the National Day holiday. Before the holiday, the deputy director had informed her that the textbooks she’d ordered had arrived. She happened to head out early that morning, stopping by the college office first to pick them up.

As she was leaving, she heard someone call from behind, “Teacher Zhao!”

She turned around and saw it was Wang Nan.

Wang Nan had put on makeup today, her hair worn loose. She was dressed in an autumn long dress that had been meticulously taken care of, not a single wrinkle in sight. In her hand was a Celine bag, and on her feet—rarely—were a pair of slim high heels.

Jin Zhao’s eyes lit up. Smiling, she asked, “A date?”

Wang Nan walked up with composed restraint. “You’re going to make up for the one I’m missing?”

“Next door.” Wang Nan tipped her chin toward the west gate. “Sui University.”

Suiyi University and Suiyi Normal University were very close, separated by just one street, but their standing differed by far more than a little. Sui University, if not top one or two, was at least in the national top five, while universities like Sui Normal could be found by the handful across the country.

Wang Nan had done her master’s at Sui University. As they walked, she said to Jin Zhao, “There’s a donation ceremony today—famous alumni returning to campus. As an unfamous alumna, I’m going back to join the excitement.”

“What’s so exciting about that?” Jin Zhao said, very practically putting herself in the situation. “It’s not like they’re donating to me.”

If they were donating to her, she’d go.

Wang Nan gave a soft scoff. “Can you believe I didn’t even see the president once during my three years of grad school? Going back to bask in the glow of top students, and to see what my alma mater’s president even looks like.”

Jin Zhao: “The president’s coming too?”

Wang Nan: “What do you think? One hundred million. If you were the president, wouldn’t you go receive them personally?”

Jin Zhao: “!”

There really are so many rich people in this world.

She was busy—about to start resenting the rich again.

But then again, if there are so many rich people, what’s wrong with one more being her?

With a complicated mood, Jin Zhao asked, “Who is it?”

Wang Nan replied casually, “Meng Yanxi.”

Like a pebble unexpectedly dropped into the slightly cool waters of autumn, plop, it stirred up ring after ring of ripples.

Wang Nan’s voice scattered within the ripples: “Oh right, you might not know him. He’s the brother of that girl who caused trouble—the one you saw in my office that day. I was young and ignorant back then, just started the job, nearly offended a big shot.”

“But speaking of it, I really didn’t expect Meng Yanxi to be from Sui University. Of course I’m not saying Sui University is bad—just that someone as impressive as Meng Yanxi, I always thought he’d at least be from Tsinghua or Peking University, or maybe returned from the Ivy League.”

Jin Zhao unconsciously murmured, “No.”

He had said that before his sister turned eighteen, he would not leave Suiyi.

“Huh, do you know him?” Jin Zhao’s response piqued Wang Nan’s curiosity.

Outside the west gate, traffic was dense. The road was wide, and the green light lasted only twenty seconds—if you didn’t walk fast, you couldn’t even make it across. The two exited the west gate. The red light at the crosswalk opposite had just turned green. Seizing the time to cross, Wang Nan didn’t wait for Jin Zhao’s answer and grabbed her hand, following the crowd briskly to the other side.

“Perfect—come with me to see Meng Yanxi!”

Jin Zhao wanted to refuse, but she didn’t know whether her voice was drowned out by the crowd, or whether the green light was too short, forcing everyone’s compulsions to the surface.

The green numbers jumped, the light turned from green to red, and Jin Zhao had already followed Wang Nan to the other side.

The donation ceremony was held in the lecture hall.

Today was the first day of the National Day holiday. She had thought there would be fewer teachers and students, but unexpectedly, the lecture hall—capable of seating two thousand—was still completely full, with even the aisles packed with people.

Meng Yanxi walked in surrounded by the president and his entourage. All the way in, his eyelids were lowered, his mind somewhat elsewhere, frequently bowing his head to look at his phone.

This past week, he had been checking his phone from time to time—now flipping through missed calls, now checking whether there were any new friend requests on WeChat. He had handled the phone until it was warm, yet there had been no movement at all.

He suspected Meng Zhuxi had messed things up.

Last week, Meng Zhuxi had secretly taken his phone to transfer money to herself, and in her guilty panic had even pressed off one of his incoming calls. By the time he discovered it, it was already the next day. Looking at that unfamiliar phone number, he had rarely lost his temper, nearly scaring the little girl to tears.

After that, he kept his phone with him at all times, waiting and waiting, but that number never called again.

It was a local Suiyi number, not bound to WeChat.

Meng Yanxi was proud to the core. He could make concessions without a sound—for example, leaving his phone number at the Luxi front desk and waiting for someone to ask for it. But he would never lower his head, and he would absolutely not call back on his own initiative.

Yet that number stubbornly refused to call again, so infuriating that it gave him a headache.

Meng Yanxi was the donor, the protagonist of the day. His seat was arranged in the center of the first row, together with the president.

The president smiled and let him go first. He casually lifted his eyelids, and in a single glance saw Jin Zhao moving forward along the aisle.

It was obvious she had dressed up carefully today—soft, fluffy collarbone-length hair, bright, clear eyes, skin so fair it seemed to glow. The lecture hall was noisy and dimly lit, yet he spotted her at once in the crowd.

The pent-up heaviness in his chest over the past days seemed to be swept away in an instant. His head no longer hurt, and nothing he looked at felt irritating anymore.

He sat down in his seat, spirits lifted, smiled and exchanged a few pleasantries with the president, then quickly picked up his phone again.

He pulled up the phone number that Meng Zhuxi had pressed off, and amid the clamorous voices dialed it back.

The connecting beeps sounded in his ear. At the same time, he turned his head and swept his gaze over the crowd behind him.

In the blink of an eye, he could no longer find her—but he was no longer anxious.

The call was answered.

“Hello.” He spoke first, his voice low.

Very quickly, an enthusiastic male voice came from the other end: “Hello, ah—sir, hello, hello! This is Zhifu Finance. Are you looking to take out a loan?”

Meng Yanxi: “……”

He really was insane. How could he have thought this number was hers!