Economics didn’t teach you the specifics of how to do business, but that didn’t stop Gu Qiao from launching her commercial ventures the moment she arrived at university.

She didn’t just sell at her own school — on weekends, she expanded her operation to several nearby universities.

Luo Peiyin’s room had accumulated a small stockpile of items purchased from Gu Qiao, all things he had absolutely no use for: towels printed with the panda mascot Panpan, mugs printed with Panpan, moisture-proof shoe insoles…

Gu Qiao had never intended to sell to Luo Peiyin. The first time she came to his university to expand her business, she happened to run into him. He asked why she’d started selling things, and she dressed up her desire to earn money with the more respectable-sounding name of “practical social experience.” Somehow, Luo Peiyin had taken a liking to the Panpan mug she was selling. Gu Qiao was puzzled — how could Cousin want something like this? And buying one wasn’t enough; he bought out her entire stock. Given their relationship, she couldn’t possibly take his money for a few little mugs, so she immediately and generously declared she’d give them all to him.

Luo Peiyin insisted on paying; Gu Qiao insisted on not accepting. Their back-and-forth in a public place looked, to outside observers, like something else entirely. In the end Gu Qiao won — she waited until Cousin wasn’t paying attention, stuffed the money he’d given her back into the breast pocket of his work shirt, then jumped onto her bicycle and pedaled away as fast as she could, as though someone were chasing her with the intention of causing bodily harm. Only when she felt certain Luo Peiyin could no longer catch up did she turn and wave a cheerful goodbye. By the time she was nearly back at her own campus, her mind drifted back to the moment of stuffing the money back — his shirt was actually quite a modern cut.

Their exchange had been witnessed by a third party, and so another Ba Fen – Chapter was added to the ongoing legend of Luo Peiyin’s romantic entanglements. This new version replaced the old one about him punching a female teacher’s boyfriend.

The next time Gu Qiao ran into Luo Peiyin, the merchandise she was selling had already changed.

Somehow, Cousin and she had the most uncanny connection — whatever she was selling happened to be exactly what he wanted to buy. This time, Gu Qiao again decided not to accept his money, but Luo Peiyin told her that if he couldn’t pay, he simply wouldn’t take the item. So Gu Qiao had no choice but to reluctantly accept the money, then used her earnings to treat Cousin to a restaurant meal — which ended with Luo Peiyin footing the bill anyway.

She certainly couldn’t eat his meal for nothing. The next time she had something to sell, she set aside a portion specifically to give him as a gift. But Cousin insisted on paying, so she took to giving him things that didn’t cost money.

Luo Peiyin had initially assumed Gu Qiao was doing these small business ventures out of financial need. Later, he came to understand that through these little enterprises, she was actually doing quite well for herself — not much worse off than he was.

But once a habit forms, it’s hard to break. He had grown accustomed to treating Gu Qiao rather than being treated by her, accustomed to her appearing in front of him from time to time, accustomed to buying things he would likely never use and pretending he needed them.

And then that routine was disrupted. Two weeks went by without Luo Peiyin running into Gu Qiao at school, and when the third week came and he returned home, she hadn’t been there either. He mentioned it in passing to his younger brother, asking whether Gu Qiao had come by recently.

Ever since Luo the Fourth had told Gu Qiao about his second brother’s unflattering remarks, he too had gone three weeks without seeing his cousin. Luo the Fourth was disgruntled. Gu Qiao was his own blood cousin — and yet somehow she’d grown closer and closer to his second brother, insisting on including him whenever she invited anyone to a meal. He’d wanted fried chicken, but because his second brother didn’t like it, Gu Qiao had changed the restaurant entirely. How could she possibly think his second brother mattered more than him? They were the ones who were proper relatives, after all.

In defense of his unshakeable bond with his cousin, Luo the Fourth had decided to expose his second brother. He told Gu Qiao that in truth, his second brother had never considered her a real cousin — he had explicitly told someone that they had no blood relation, that they didn’t count as real relatives. Luo the Fourth had heard it clearly with his own ears. Seeing that Gu Qiao didn’t quite believe him, he’d nearly sworn an oath: *Cousin, given the relationship between the two of us, would I lie to you? Second brother wasn’t wrong either — the two of you technically aren’t proper relatives. It’s you and I who are family. Stop calling him cousin so readily — who knows what’s really going through his mind.*

Luo the Fourth had no idea exactly what had been said or in what context, and didn’t feel any particular need to know. He watched Gu Qiao’s expression gradually dim, then saw her force a smile and say her goodbyes.

Inwardly, he second-guessed himself — perhaps he shouldn’t have told her. But what his second brother had said was what his second brother had said; he had simply repeated it vividly. He reported to his second brother that Gu Qiao was probably deep in exam preparation at school, studying hard.

One of Gu Qiao’s roommates recognized the boy standing below their dormitory building as Gu Qiao’s cousin — she’d only seen him once, on the day Gu Qiao started school, but she’d retained a very clear impression of him. In the dormitory, Gu Qiao talked about her cousin often, and the words she used most were: *clever, kind.* She rarely mentioned what he looked like, always feeling that bringing up appearances too readily seemed shallow in his eyes. In the past few weeks, however, Gu Qiao had not said a single word about her cousin.

“Gu Qiao went to the library first thing this morning — she hasn’t come back yet.”

With end-of-term exams approaching, Gu Qiao had temporarily set aside her small business and was spending every day in the library grinding through problem sets. She wasn’t someone who particularly loved studying, but she was competitive enough that doing poorly was simply unacceptable — especially with Cousin’s results as a benchmark right there.

She was waging war on her advanced mathematics textbook, while simultaneously turning over the same question in her mind: why didn’t Luo Peiyin want to acknowledge her as a cousin? Could it be that he looked down on her small business dealings, found them beneath his dignity? A cousin that narrow-minded wasn’t worth having — but then she didn’t really believe Cousin was that kind of person.

After going around in circles without landing on an answer, she put the question aside and concentrated on her problems. She was so absorbed that she didn’t notice when lunchtime had come and gone.

Coming out of the library, she happened to run straight into Luo Peiyin. How had Cousin ended up at her university?

By reflex she nearly called out “Cousin” — then swallowed the last syllable: “What are you doing here?”

“I was passing by, thought I’d drop in and see you.”

“Oh.”

“Have you been busy with studying lately?”

“Yes.”

Gu Qiao could hear that her replies were shorter than usual. She felt the single syllables were too cold, so she added: “I’m not doing very well in advanced mathematics — exams are coming up soon, so I’ve been trying to catch up.”

Luo Peiyin found this reduced, quieter version of Gu Qiao very strange to be around. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let’s go get something.”

Gu Qiao thought about how many meals Luo Peiyin had treated her to. He had dropped by her university on his way somewhere — both reason and courtesy meant she should at least treat him to a meal in the campus canteen.

Meal service was long over, and the food had already been thoroughly picked through. By the time it was Gu Qiao’s turn to fill her tray, the great serving pans held barely a scraping of each dish. She scraped together three dishes with great effort — more soup than substance in each one — and gave Luo Peiyin an apologetic smile.

Luo Peiyin said nothing, and bowed his head to eat white rice.

They ate their watery white-rice-and-leftover-vegetable meal in near silence. Halfway through, Luo Peiyin looked up and asked: “Would you like me to help you study?”

“There’s no need.” Gu Qiao considered internally whether this was a genuine offer or just something to say. Luo Peiyin wasn’t the first boy to volunteer to tutor her — she had already turned down more than one well-meaning offer, because she had no way to repay that kind of goodwill. Turning Luo Peiyin down was different, though — not because she couldn’t repay him, but because she suspected Cousin was simply being polite. People said things to be polite — it would be embarrassing to take him at his word.

“Don’t be polite — I’m not very busy at the moment.” Without waiting for Gu Qiao’s response, Luo Peiyin decided for both of them: “Come to my place this afternoon. I’ll take a look at where you’re at.”

Gu Qiao said yes — and then, bright and clear, called out “Cousin” once more.

She decided it must have been Luo the Fourth who had lied to her. Cousin still treated her as family. Why else would he spend time helping her study?