Jiang Ruoqiao bought her return ticket as fast as she possibly could.

Travel was convenient these days. There were several direct high-speed rail routes from Xi Shi to Jing Shi, with the whole journey taking no more than four hours.

She had a deep fondness for the old apartment. It had been allocated to her grandfather by his work unit back in the day, with a usable floor area of less than fifty square meters. But as an old building, it had no elevator, which made going up and down the stairs very inconvenient for her grandparents. Elderly people really were better off in a building with a lift. Jiang Ruoqiao had looked into it — with the building’s age and its less-than-ideal location, selling it wouldn’t quite cover the down payment on a new place. She had been saving up, and her one hope was that housing prices in Xi Shi wouldn’t keep climbing. If she could save enough before graduation, she could swap it for a larger, brighter apartment with an elevator, so her grandparents’ later years would be more comfortable.

Jiang Ruoqiao had considered tutoring before.

She had no patience with children, though, and no gift for teaching. She could solve a problem herself, but she couldn’t explain it well enough for a student to understand it too. If she went over something multiple times and the student still only had a vague grasp of it, she would become deeply dispirited.

The going hourly rate for university students doing tutoring at A’Da was quite good. But earning it was agony for Jiang Ruoqiao. After doing it once, she had sworn off teaching anyone ever again.

University students had all sorts of part-time work available to them. Jiang Ruoqiao was famously “lofty in ambition but selective in practice” among her friends. After weighing all the options, the only job she could stick with long-term was modeling for the Hanfu shop. Beyond that, she managed an account where she occasionally posted short videos and vlogs. With the reputation of being A’Da’s campus beauty to give her profile some exposure, she had built up a decent following. She and the Hanfu shop were mutually beneficial — the shop owner paid her modeling fees and also covered the cost of advertising.

As for the “campus beauty” title — that was entirely a grassroots, folk designation.

A university has so many students. “Campus beauty” and “campus heartthrob” aren’t determined by a formal school-wide vote. Students aren’t that idle, and besides, everyone has different standards of beauty — some prefer striking, dramatic looks, others prefer something understated and natural. Jiang Ruoqiao had seen the opportunity at exactly the right moment: after a classmate posted her photos online and they gained traction, she had instinctively and without any coaching launched a small wave of self-promotion. Without quite realizing it had happened, she had ensured that whenever people thought of A’Da’s campus beauty, she was the first name that came to mind.

It was like how some entertainers used to ride on the label of being some school’s campus beauty or heartthrob. Did that necessarily mean their school had no one more attractive than them?

Of course not.

By now, Jiang Ruoqiao’s account had amassed a solid following, and brand partners had come knocking for advertising collaborations.

Jiang Ruoqiao, in certain respects, was deeply meticulous.

She had no desire to leave herself any embarrassing paper trail. She didn’t take every deal that came with money attached — selling herself short for a few small rewards would be a net loss if it caused problems down the road.

And so she rarely, rarely ran advertisements — for the most part, her only collaboration was with the Hanfu shop, given that she was their model.

In short, Jiang Ruoqiao lacked the luck of a celebrity but carried herself with all the posturing of one, conducting herself as though her every move were being recorded, unwilling to leave her future self even the faintest trace of trouble.

She never posted anything potentially controversial on social media.

When the latest gossip erupted online she consumed it in silence — and to prevent an accidental “like” from happening, she even scrolled through Weibo left-handed.

No matter how explosive the news, she never offered any commentary of her own.

Her friends joked that if other celebrities had even half her caution, they wouldn’t have ended up in so many scandals.

After packing her luggage, Jiang Ruoqiao quietly tucked two thousand yuan under her grandparents’ pillows, then left the house and made her way to the high-speed rail station.

On the train, she received a WeChat message from her boyfriend.

Jiang Yan: 【[Image]】

Jiang Yan: 【[Image]】

Jiang Yan: 【Which one do you like?】

Jiang Ruoqiao paused, then replied: 【You’re not in Jing Shi?】

Jiang Yan: 【No, I came to Sanya on short notice. Accompanying my mum and the others to the duty-free shops. Your birthday is coming up — I thought I’d get you a bag. I hear this is the latest style. Which color do you prefer?】

Jiang Ruoqiao held her phone and didn’t reply straight away.

Jiang Yan was a wealthy second-generation. More precisely, he was a wealthy second-generation playing at being poor.

At first, Jiang Ruoqiao hadn’t paid much attention to him. But as they spent more time together, she could tell from his clothing and style that he came from a very comfortable background. The clothes and shoes Jiang Yan wore weren’t the well-known luxury brands — they were labels that students rarely encountered or recognized. The backpack he casually tossed on the ground while playing ball was a five-figure purchase. The reason most people at A’Da had no idea he was from a wealthy family was simply that he kept an extremely low profile, and even went out of his way to be frugal, holding all kinds of part-time jobs.

Jiang Ruoqiao had hesitated for two months.

She was a practical person. She knew that a relationship didn’t guarantee marriage, and she knew that one should date someone they actually liked.

But the issue was…

She liked people who had money.

What was the point of falling for someone only to find out they were an ordinary university student — barely scraping together enough for a nice dinner once a month, or having to borrow from roommates for weeks after a date? It would make her feel as though she were leeching off someone. She actually preferred blind date introductions, where conditions were laid out clearly upfront, before deciding whether there was any romantic potential. That was why her approach to relationships was different from most people’s.

She needed to confirm the other person’s financial standing first, before deciding whether to pursue things. If she liked them, she’d proceed. If she didn’t, she’d leave it. She also wouldn’t get together with someone purely because they had money — that would just be having no standards at all.

So it could be said that every boyfriend she had ever had, she had genuinely liked. But every one of them shared one common trait — they had money.

Why did she say Jiang Yan was “playing at being poor”?

If it weren’t for his clothes and his overall style, he would never have made it onto Jiang Ruoqiao’s radar at all. She was worried about reading him wrong, right up until one day she saw Jiang Yan’s mother come to pick him up, and mother and son climbed into a discreet but unmistakably luxurious Porsche Cayenne.

After that, she once ran into Jiang Yan accompanying his mother on a shopping trip when she was out with a friend. The two of them went into a jewellery store and selected expensive pieces, then wandered in and out of shops, arms loaded with bags.

During the period of budding romance, she had also done a surprise video call with him, catching his background — a garden villa in the frame.

Every time, she had taken a screenshot. After several rounds of comparison and research, she confirmed that Jiang Yan’s family lived in Ming Men Hua Fu.

Ming Men Hua Fu was a villa estate that had opened for sale five years ago, set amid beautiful scenery and in an auspicious location — the premier wealthy residential area in Jing Shi.

Before making their relationship official, she had even gone specifically to the vicinity of Ming Men Hua Fu. After watching Jiang Yan enter, she had approached a young security guard under the pretense of asking for directions, chatted a little, and then — as casually as she could manage — asked whether the young man in the grey hoodie who had just walked in was a resident there, explaining that he had dropped something and she wanted to return it.

The security guard confirmed in person that yes, he was a resident.

Only after all that due diligence did Jiang Ruoqiao allow herself to let things develop with Jiang Yan.

As for why he played at being poor?

Wealthy people probably all harbored some version of the thought: “I want you to love me for who I am, not for my money.”

And honestly, Jiang Yan treated her really well.

If he wanted to play a role, she would play along.

Having already committed to this performance, Jiang Ruoqiao certainly wasn’t going to let things unravel now. She would keep up the part of the sweet, devoted, understanding girlfriend.

Jiang Ruoqiao: 【Don’t bother~】

Jiang Ruoqiao: 【That bag is so expensive. You work so hard for your money. For my birthday, let’s just go out for dinner together.】

At the same time, Jiang Yan — reading that message — felt a complicated swirl of emotions.

The bag truly wasn’t cheap.

But with a little extra effort, he could still afford to get it for her.

Ruoqiao was this kind and considerate — she clearly deserved to be cherished and treasured, yet she was willing to endure hardship alongside him. Jiang Yan had been drifting and coasting before this, but since being with Jiang Ruoqiao, he only resented himself for not having more to offer. He wished he could lay the entire world at her feet.

On the other side of things.

Lu Siyan had reluctantly agreed to the strange condition.

He only had one set of clothes. A few days ago, when they had gone out to buy toothpaste, he had darted nimbly into a children’s clothing shop.

Never mind that he was on the chubbier side by children’s standards — he was extraordinarily agile, slipping in and out of places like a little eel. Lu Yicheng had had no choice but to follow. A child with only one set of clothes and no spare change was a bit much. But Lu Yicheng hadn’t gone to a brand children’s boutique — he had taken Lu Siyan to the supermarket instead. The supermarket had a clothing section, and Lu Yicheng wasn’t particular about clothes. Back when his grandmother was still alive, she used to buy him four T-shirts for a hundred yuan from the stalls at the farmers’ market.

In Lu Yicheng’s mind, that was simply what clothes should cost.

Fortunately, Lu Siyan had been well-raised in that respect — his parents bought whatever they bought, and he wore it.

Lu Yicheng picked out two sets of clothes for him.

Lu Siyan came out of the fitting room, looked at himself in the mirror, and had a vague sense that something was off.

Clothes make the man.

The outfit Lu Siyan had been wearing when he traveled here had been sharp — the kind of effortlessly stylish look you’d see on a boy model from an Instagram account, with a distinctive design and a quality you could feel. Every time he appeared in public wearing it, pretty older girls couldn’t resist pulling out their phones for a photo.

Now he was wearing a white plain-cotton short-sleeved top with some unidentifiable cartoon character printed on it.

Below that, pale grey shorts that fell past the knee.

The contrast was obvious — if you put it online, it would look exactly like the memes comparing “kids out with mum and dad” versus “kids out with grandma and grandpa”…

Lu Yicheng wasn’t that perceptive about these things.

In his view, clothes were clothes — something to wear and to have spare changes of. That was sufficient.

He had grown up that way himself.

And yet, thanks to his height, his bearing, and his looks, he managed to remain firmly settled on the throne of “campus heartthrob” in the hearts of the female student population — even while wearing a twenty-five-yuan T-shirt.

Father and son really did look very alike.

Lu Yicheng wore a pale grey T-shirt paired with cropped trousers that revealed his ankles, and a pair of very clean canvas shoes.

Lu Siyan wore the clothes he had brought with him.

Only five years old, his legs not very long yet, and his mop of soft curls brushed neatly down.

By midmorning, the sun was blazing. Lu Siyan was sensitive to heat. The back of a battery-powered scooter had room for a passenger, but Lu Yicheng always had him stand in the front. Lu Siyan grimaced and squirmed. “I’m burning alive!”

Lu Yicheng felt nothing much himself.

He had long grown accustomed to scorching summers and bitter winters.

The child had a talent for finding joy in difficult circumstances. The scooter hummed along the asphalt road, and the wind — warm as it was — stirred Lu Siyan’s curly hair. He let out a string of delighted howls.

It was blazing hot and the sun was relentless, but it was also undeniably fun!

He’d never ridden one of these before.

This was so cool!

And there was no traffic at all.

Kendeji was busy at this hour too. When father and son arrived, Jiang Ruoqiao hadn’t yet turned up. Lu Yicheng rarely ate at fast food places — he could count the times on one hand. Lu Siyan, on the other hand, attacked the ordering as though he’d been starved for eight lifetimes, his little mouth rattling off one item after another.

Chicken wings, a burger, fries, popcorn chicken, chicken nuggets — and a sundae too!

Lu Yicheng lowered his head and hunted through the group-buying app for deals, while at the same time texting Jiang Ruoqiao: 【What would you like? I can order for you.】

Jiang Ruoqiao: 【Just an iced Americano, that’s all.】

Lu Yicheng: 【Alright.】

Lu Yicheng toggled between several apps. His head for numbers was sharp — he didn’t even need a calculator, and he had already identified the most cost-efficient combo deal. The set included everything Lu Siyan had asked for. Lu Yicheng also registered for a membership account and used the accumulated discount to purchase Jiang Ruoqiao’s iced coffee at a slightly reduced price.

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