There were too many people today. Jin Zhao and Wang Nan made a round through the lecture hall but still couldn’t find any seats, so the two of them could only return to the back row, standing in the crowd and watching from afar.

Wang Nan tried to zoom in with her phone, but it was too far away— even the phone couldn’t restore the appearance of the person onstage. She couldn’t help muttering, “I’ve never seen this many people at a lecture before. It’s National Day, where’s all this enthusiasm coming from? Bet the school forcibly dragged people here to make up the numbers. Students don’t come, their usual grades get deducted; teachers don’t come, their pay gets docked.”

“Not so.”

Next to Wang Nan stood a boy. No one knew whether he was faculty or an alumnus. Slightly chubby, he craned his neck to stare at the stage. “I saw the announcement on the public account and specifically changed my high-speed rail ticket to tomorrow instead of going out to play.”

Wang Nan asked curiously, “Is the principal really that good-looking?”

“Who’s here to look at the principal?” The boy laughed. “I’m here to look at Meng Yanxi!”

Nearby, a girl was holding up her phone, taking photos with all her might. Jin Zhao was accidentally elbowed by her; a dull pain spread from her chest.

Wang Nan was still chatting idly with the boy. “You guys like handsome guys too?”

“Who’s here because he’s handsome? I’m here because he’s rich! One hundred million! This is probably the only chance in my life to see that much money.” The boy smacked his lips, his face full of longing. “I really want to catch it like crazy, kneel down and catch it!”

Wang Nan was amused by him. “It’s not like the one hundred million is being laid out there.”

“You understand luck, right? Rich people have it on them… no, Meng Yanxi isn’t just ordinarily rich anymore. If you know his story, you’ll realize Meng Yanxi is basically a chosen one. Chosen ones like that all have a special aura. If I could shake his hand… tch, maybe I could even make ten million!”

Jin Zhao lowered her gaze to look at her own hands, and silently added in her heart: No, you wouldn’t. Poor is still poor.

Wang Nan also joked, “You should find a seat to sit down first. Hey, it looks like there are still empty seats in the front row. You can go over and sit, and maybe even shake hands with Meng Yanxi.”

Boy: “……”

Meng Yanxi was giving a speech onstage. His voice was, as always, cool-toned, yet very clean, like dew on bamboo leaves in the early morning of deep autumn. He wore a dark suit. From so far away, Jin Zhao could only vaguely make out a tall, straight figure; she couldn’t see whether there was a script in his hands. Probably not, because he really just said a few simple lines. Paired with his cool-quality voice, it gave people the feeling of being far away on a mountain peak, distant and unattainable.

Compared to him, the applause below seemed so plain and unadorned, so approachable. People around her clapped desperately, as if whoever clapped harder would truly be able to catch one hundred million.

At this moment, the donation ceremony’s BGM sounded. The principal went onstage to accept Meng Yanxi’s donation, and the two of them stood at the center of the stage for a photo.

Flashbulbs went off without stopping; the applause at the scene lingered and would not die down.

After the main donation ceremony, Meng Yanxi also signed a school–enterprise cooperation agreement with the principal.

Perhaps because one hundred million was simply too far away from them, Wang Nan felt nothing in particular about seeing one hundred million. It was only when it came to the school–enterprise cooperation agreement that she felt genuine envy, saying, “I have a school–enterprise cooperation requirement this academic year, but I don’t think I can complete it. I don’t have resources in that area.”

Wang Nan sighed. “I also really want to send Meng Yanxi a message, but he probably wouldn’t think much of our school.”

Jin Zhao’s eyelashes flickered lightly.

Turning her head, she asked Wang Nan softly, “You have Meng Yanxi’s WeChat?”

Wang Nan said, “Yeah. Didn’t his younger sister cause trouble last time? He took the initiative to add me on WeChat.”

Jin Zhao moved her lips, as if she wanted to say something. At that moment, the phone rang—an incoming call from Jin Wenyi.

She said a word to Wang Nan, then threaded her way through the crowd and went out through the back door.

“Hello, Lingling, have you gone out yet?” Jin Wenyi asked from the other end.

Thinking Jin Wenyi was afraid she might change her mind at the last minute and refuse to go on the blind date, Jin Zhao quickly said, “I’ve already arrived at the school. I came to pick up the textbooks I ordered before, and I’ll head over right away.”

“No rush. I just got a call from the go-between. The other party said something came up and he can’t make it in time, so it’s changed to coffee at 3 p.m.”

Jin Zhao lightly furrowed her brows.

It was already close to noon. If she hadn’t run into Wang Nan on the way and been dragged over to watch Meng Yanxi, she would already be at the restaurant by now. Yet the other party changed the time at this moment— it sounded like intentional neglect.

Jin Wenyi explained, “I was angry at first too, but the go-between explained that he really does have something going on. The boy is indeed quite outstanding—both his bachelor’s and master’s were at Sui University, tall and handsome, passed the civil service exam after graduation, and now he’s a favorite around the city leadership. Since you’re already out, just go meet him. Maybe you’ll hit it off? Even if it doesn’t work out, just take it as making another friend and expanding your social circle. Your social circle is just too narrow, even good wine fears a deep alley.”

Seeing Jin Wenyi was about to start her earnest persuasion again, Jin Zhao hurriedly said, “Okay.”

Jin Wenyi immediately said with a beaming smile, “I’ve sent the address to your phone.”

Because the blind date stood her up at the last minute, at noon Jin Zhao ate together with Wang Nan. The two of them had lunch in the cafeteria, then strolled around the Sui University campus for a while.

The temperature had dropped these past few days. After several consecutive autumn rains, the osmanthus on campus had all bloomed. Osmanthus petals flowed across the wet bluestone slabs, and the air was soaked with a sweet fragrance.

Although Wang Nan’s careful getup today only resulted in being squeezed into the back row, she held fast to the principle that makeup must never be wasted. She dragged Jin Zhao around campus and took many photos.

It wasn’t until the time was about right that the two left Sui University. Wang Nan returned to school, while Jin Zhao took a taxi to the blind date.

After the donation ended, the principal led Sui University’s senior leadership to invite Meng Yanxi to lunch together.

The school had booked seats in advance at a nearby hotel, but Meng Yanxi took the initiative to speak up and change the lunch location to the Sui University cafeteria.

With the host deferring to the guest, the principal naturally agreed.

Fortunately, Sui University had many cafeterias. Aside from the few that students frequented and were packed, there were also some dining halls. The principal specially chose Hetian Studio, used for receptions. That day, the entire floor had only their one table, extremely imposing.

By the time it ended, it was already close to three in the afternoon. Meng Yanxi had been drinking, and the assistant Zhuang Yu came over to pick him up.

His alcohol tolerance had always been poor—one cup would knock him down in his youth. Now it wasn’t that exaggerated anymore; after all, doing business made it impossible to truly abstain. Today he had two drinks with the principal. After getting into the car he didn’t pass out, and even subconsciously took out his phone, flipping through missed calls before tapping into WeChat.

There were no missed calls, and no friend requests.

Meng Yanxi leaned back against the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling lonely amid the din of revelry.

There was a red dot notification on Moments; he casually tapped in.

The latest post was from Meng Zhuxi’s counselor, Wang Nan, posted just one minute ago. There was no caption, only three simple photos.

As his gaze swept over the third one, those lonely peach-blossom eyes focused in an instant. Long fingers tapped it open.

It had just rained; water droplets still streamed over the osmanthus leaves. Two girls stood before the tree—one holding up a phone, the other flashing a V-sign. Behind them was a blaze of golden osmanthus, blooming beneath the red brick and green-tiled building of the Literature Faculty.

Zhuang Yu was about to drive out through the north gate when a cool voice suddenly came from behind: “Go through the east gate.”

When the Maybach pulled up to the east gate, Jin Zhao had just finally matched with her discounted express ride.

Because she stubbornly refused to add a surcharge, plus the time spent waiting for a driver to accept the order, she had waited a total of ten minutes.

If the one who had come today were Lu Jingyue, Meng Yanxi would have had much less to worry about—Lu Jingyue would know to follow without him needing to say anything. Unfortunately, Zhuang Yu didn’t recognize Jin Zhao and stubbornly wanted to turn left.

“Turn right.” Meng Yanxi said.

Zhuang Yu paused, but those who could stay by Meng Yanxi’s side were all sharp minds. There was no need to ask more—following his boss’s line of sight with a single glance was enough to know what to do.

The café for the blind date had only opened not long ago. It was decorated in a currently popular style, very quiet, with soothing foreign-language music playing, and bore a rather evocative name—Return Date.

The proprietor wasn’t to be seen. There were three to five servers, all with very good attitudes. It was just that the blind date himself wasn’t much to speak of—he changed the time and still arrived late.

Jin Zhao arrived right at three o’clock. The other party was ten minutes late. During that time, she sat alone by the window, absentmindedly staring at the black Maybach parked across the street.

It had started raining again—not heavy. Raindrops were blown diagonally by the wind onto the floor-to-ceiling window, stretching into long streaks of rain.

She tried to peer through the rain mist to see the license plate number of the car across the street. Unfortunately, the street was too wide, and she was slightly nearsighted. After ten minutes of looking, she still couldn’t make it out.

It wasn’t that she was fixated on the license plate. After all, she didn’t think her fate with Meng Yanxi would be deep enough for them to run into each other again.

She knew it wasn’t Meng Yanxi—she just felt that this car looked rather similar to his.

There really are so many rich people now.

She propped her elbow and tilted her head, the other hand tapping lightly on the tabletop, thinking idly.

“Miss Jin?” A male voice with a hint of surprise sounded beside her.

Jin Zhao turned her head.

The other party was wearing a black jacket, with refined features and glasses. Indeed, just as her aunt had said—clean-cut, tall, and handsome.

“I’m Li Jin.”

Her blind date had finally arrived.

While he sat down across from her, Jin Zhao glanced at the wall clock. 3:10 p.m.

She had just been thinking that exams barred entry after fifteen minutes of tardiness, so she’d wait until 3:15.

Li Jin apologized repeatedly and explained to her, “I had a last-minute engagement.”

Teachers were always quick to forgive. Jin Zhao smiled and said, “It’s okay. I just got here too.”

She was always considerate of others, even generously lending him her own excuse: “It takes quite a bit of time to get a taxi on a rainy day.”

But the other party didn’t take this out. Smiling, he said, “That wasn’t it. After the engagement, the investor sent me over.”

In a normal conversation, Jin Zhao should probably have asked who the “investor” was—those two words sounded wealthy, and most people would be curious enough to ask. Unfortunately, she’d been stimulated by Meng Yanxi lately and had developed a bit of resentment toward the rich, so she didn’t pick it up.

The words fell to the ground, and the scene cooled for an instant.

At that moment, the electronic chime of “Welcome” sounded behind her as someone pushed open the café door and walked in.

The servers responded quickly, immediately taking menus over, passing by Jin Zhao. She heard one of them say with a smile, “Hello, how many?”

The other party didn’t answer, sounding even more aloof than her blind date.

The server had a truly good temperament and politely added, “If you need anything, you can press the bell. You can also scan the code here to order.”

Perhaps because her distraction was too obvious, Li Jin took the initiative to pick up the conversation, flattering her slightly. “Miss Jin looks very young.”

Something about that sounded off to Jin Zhao. She said, “My aunt should have shown you my photos.”

“Yes,” the other party adjusted his glasses and smiled. “But usually those kinds of photos are photoshopped—photoshopped until even their parents wouldn’t recognize them.”

“Has Mr. Li seen many photos?”

“Quite a lot, actually. Every few days someone introduces me to a match. Just last month alone, I received over a dozen photos. Those who know think I’m looking for a partner; those who don’t might think I’m selecting concubines.”

He seemed to want to laugh at himself, but that smile held not a trace of self-mockery—only brimming pride and self-satisfaction.

Jin Zhao didn’t know what to say.

Li Jin didn’t know whether he was aiming for frankness or a tactic of lowering expectations before raising them, and continued, “So when I first saw Miss Jin’s photos, I actually didn’t want to come. You’re simply too beautiful—completely unlike a twenty-six-year-old woman. It was my aunt who said Miss Jin is a university teacher, cultured, well-educated, with plenty of holidays, able to take care of the family and children in the future—that’s why I agreed to come. I didn’t expect Miss Jin herself to be even younger and more beautiful than the photos.”

One sentence stepped on too many landmines. Jin Zhao no longer knew where to begin disliking him.

She picked up her bag and stood, not even wanting to speak, ready to leave. Footsteps sounded from behind her; at the same time, the cool scent of mountain pine and mist, mixed with a faint trace of alcohol, spread from far to near and enveloped her.

Jin Zhao lifted her eyes and, without warning, crashed into a pair of pitch-black peach-blossom eyes.

Perhaps the reunion was too sudden, or perhaps she had never forgotten—so much so that her heartbeat recognized him before reason did. Their gazes met, and for an instant Jin Zhao’s mind went blank.

And in that brief instant, Meng Yanxi had already squeezed his way in.

The café seating was a two-person sofa. Meng Yanxi was tall, long-legged, his presence pressing in. The moment he stepped in, Jin Zhao instinctively shifted inward, watching helplessly as the man sat down beside her.

In a daze, it was as if she’d slipped back to her second year of high school, when she shared a desk with him— the boy leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out, sprawling on her outer side. Someone called her “Luo Shen,” and he twirled his pen, lifted his eyes indifferently, said nothing, the cold air-conditioning wind whooshing. After two or three times, no one called her Luoshen anymore.

But that was already nine years ago. Time had long since passed.

So why had he suddenly appeared here now?

“This is…?”

Equally stunned was her blind date.

Jin Zhao half came back to herself, yet not entirely. She stood there, glanced at Li Jin, then awkwardly looked at Meng Yanxi.

Meng Yanxi sat brazenly beside her, tapped the tabletop with one hand. “Her superior.”

Jin Zhao: “?”

Li Jin was just as shocked. He thought to himself—short videos these days are all about bringing leaders along on blind dates; he’d thought it absurd, never expected art to truly come from life.

Meng Yanxi paid no mind to their discomfort. He was quite at ease, looking down at the other party. After a quiet moment, he picked up, from afar, the bragging hook the “concubine-selector” had thrown earlier: “You mentioned an investor just now. Which investor?”

Li Jin froze, thinking, Who are you? Judging by your age, you shouldn’t even be a department head—at most some university administrator. Yet you’re putting on such airs. But the question landed squarely in his comfort zone, and he truly couldn’t resist answering. He cleared his throat lightly and said, “Yunsheng Group. Meng Yanxi.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

Her toes curled into the ground. Standing like this would only make it more awkward; she hurriedly sat down beside Meng Yanxi, propped her hand up, and took the chance to cover her face.

Meng Yanxi glanced at her, then asked without revealing anything, “You know Meng Yanxi?”

Li Jin nodded with measured composure. “Fairly well. Today he returned to Sui University to donate one hundred million. We even had lunch together at noon.”

Meng Yanxi seemed to laugh softly and suddenly asked, “I hear he’s quite handsome. Is that true?”

Li Jin thought for a moment. “He is quite handsome.”

Meng Yanxi: “Compared to me?”