Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Xu Yan was jolted awake by his alarm the next morning. He sat up and quietly massaged his temples.

His head throbbed as if he’d been pummeled the night before. He was still in yesterday’s clothes, which carried a faint, lingering scent of alcohol.

He climbed out of bed, his throat so parched it felt like it would crack. Grabbing the water glass from his desk, he gulped down several mouthfuls, finally feeling some relief.

Being drunk was truly awful. He hadn’t even felt that intoxicated at the time, yet he’d completely blacked out later, not remembering how he’d ended up back in his dorm bed.

Who was the good Samaritan who’d brought him back?

After drinking, he wiped the dampness from the corners of his lips with the back of his hand. Suddenly, a fleeting image flashed in his mind, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, freezing.

It seemed… someone had touched his lips like that last night.

Not just that—a long, strong finger had slipped past his lips, gently parting his moist, tender mouth, lightly pressing against his teeth.

Later, he’d kept complaining about being thirsty, and someone had even fed him water…

Just then, Zhao Qingji walked in, carrying freshly laundered clothes. Seeing Xu Yan standing by his desk, lost in thought with a water cup in hand, he said, “I’m heading to the library later. I’ll be back tonight.”

Xu Yan mumbled a dazed “Oh.”

Zhao Qingji moved past him to the balcony to hang the clothes. “You’ve gotten pretty chummy with those computer science guys, huh?”

Xu Yan snapped back to reality. “What?”

Zhao Qingji: “Wen Sinian brought you back last night.”

Xu Yan spun around in shock. “What?!”

Zhao Qingji: “And he was thoughtful enough to tuck you into bed before he left.”

Xu Yan’s world came crashing down. “WHAT THE HELL?!!”

Zhao Qingji, ever the one to drop bombshells, added, “Why are you so surprised? You seemed pretty obedient last night. He told you to get in bed, and you did.”

Xu Yan nearly dropped his cup. So those fragmented, hazy memories were real—Wen Sinian had indeed driven him back.

He strained to recall anything else that had happened, but his head was still spinning. The scattered fragments wouldn’t coalesce into a complete memory, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember if he’d done anything strange.

Leaning against the balcony window, Xu Yan asked, “Class monitor, did you hear anything else last night?”

Zhao Qingji replied, “Nope. You fell asleep as soon as you got into bed, and then Wen Sinian left. He didn’t stay in the dorm.”

Xu Yan let out a small sigh of relief. It seemed he hadn’t caused any major trouble.

His standing in Wen Sinian’s eyes really couldn’t afford to drop any further—it was probably already in the negatives.

He checked his phone and saw that Shen Nanli had sent him numerous messages last night, none of which he’d seen.

Shen Nanli hadn’t been able to find him, and Lin Xingxian had explained that he’d gotten drunk and was sent back early. Shen Nanli had stayed at the party a while longer, and since it got too late, Lin Xingxian had arranged accommodations for the rest of them. Everyone else had only returned this morning.

Relieved, Xu Yan sent Shen Nanli a reply, then went to wash up in the bathroom before packing his bag for his part-time job at the café.

But as he packed, he discovered another shocker: the Icelandic glass-bottled water that Shang Jia had gone to such lengths to get for him was missing. He distinctly remembered putting it in his bag before the party, intending to give it away when the opportunity arose.

Where could it have gone?

Then it hit him—the water he’d drunk last night… could it have been that very bottle?

Xu Yan licked his lips, trying to recall the taste of the water from last night. He’d only ever read online that others described it as the best-tasting water they’d ever had, incredibly smooth.

Ugh, what a waste. Such an expensive bottle of water, and he couldn’t even remember what it tasted like.

At the school gate, Xu Yan bought a jianbing for breakfast—six yuan for the plain version. Adding pork loin or ham would have made it eight yuan, and the “family special” twelve.

The six-yuan one was already substantial enough to fill him up, keeping him from feeling hungry until midday.

He finished the jianbing on the bus and arrived at the café.

After changing into his uniform, there was still some time before opening. Xu Yan’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, his eyes crinkling into a smile, and stepped aside to answer in a quiet spot.

“Grandma.”

“Sweetheart, are you up yet?” The elderly woman on the other end sounded particularly energetic today, her voice stronger. “Grandma didn’t wake you from your lie-in, did she?”

“No, no, I’ve been up for a while. Actually, a classmate just invited me out to play later.”

Xu Yan had always kept his part-time job a secret from his grandma, fearing she’d refuse treatment out of worry for burdening him. He’d even conspired with the local doctor back home to reassure her, claiming their medical savings hadn’t run out and she shouldn’t worry about money.

Thankfully, Dr. Sun had been a tremendous help all this time. With Xu Yan away at school and unable to be by her side, the few caretakers he’d hired had all been dismissed by his grandma—she insisted she could take care of herself and didn’t want to “waste that money.” Dr. Sun, sensing Xu Yan’s concern, assured him that with his regular oversight, everything would be fine, for which Xu Yan was deeply grateful.

The two had an agreement: either could call whenever they missed the other.

However, Grandma knew Xu Yan was busy with his studies, so even if she missed her grandson terribly, she’d wait until the weekend to call.

“Going out to play is good! Grandma heard Beishi is huge and lots of fun. You should explore as much as you can while you’re studying there, try to see every corner of Beishi,” the old woman chirped, then couldn’t resist a bit of gossip. “Sweetheart, is the classmate who invited you out a boy or a girl?”

Xu Yan knew exactly what his grandma was hinting at and replied helplessly, “A boy, Grandma.”

“Ah, good, good. Boys are fine too,” Grandma chuckled. “All good, all good.”

Xu Yan asked, “How have you been feeling lately? Have you been taking your medicine and injections like the doctor said?”

She replied confidently, “Of course! You think Grandma would dare disobey Dr. Sun? He’s very strict—he makes the little nurses bring me a banana every day and stand there watching me eat it, and they don’t leave until I’ve thrown away the peel.”

As she spoke, her tone turned a little aggrieved. “Sweetheart, Grandma’s practically turning into a monkey.”

They say old people become like children, and it was true—as people aged, their temper and personality often became childlike.

Xu Yan suppressed a laugh and patiently explained, “Dr. Sun is just looking out for your health. So, whatever he tells you to eat, you should listen carefully, so you can recover faster and leave the hospital sooner.”

A soft huff came through the phone, followed by a stubborn silence, like a child pouting.

Xu Yan gently coaxed, “Grandma, I have a seven-day break for National Day. If you take your medicine and injections on time every day, and eat properly, I’ll come visit you as soon as the holiday starts, okay?”

After a few seconds, her voice grew a little nasal. “…Alright. Sweetheart, you also need to take good care of yourself out there. Eat more.”

“Grandma misses you.”

Xu Yan’s eyes welled up slightly. “I miss you too, Grandma.”

After hanging up, Xu Yan checked his balance and transferred some money to Dr. Sun for the bananas, along with a message of thanks.

Rubbing his eyes, he put on a standard professional smile and began his shift.

Sunday mornings at the café were bustling, with many customers and delivery orders keeping Xu Yan constantly on the move.

Shang Jia and Shen Nanli came to visit him. Without disturbing his work, they placed their orders and found a table, each engrossed in their own activities.

At noon, Xu Yan and a colleague took turns for their break, and Shang Jia treated them both to lunch.

Xu Yan said he wasn’t very hungry, but Shang Jia, worried he was just being polite, ordered him an extra-large portion of crab roe noodles and insisted he finish it.

“Look how skinny you are,” Shang Jia squeezed his arm. “Even skinnier than me. A strong gust of wind could blow you away.”

Xu Yan pinched his own arm, then his thigh. “It’s not that bad. Actually, my legs are pretty thick.”

Shang Jia glanced at his two slender legs swaying beneath his pant legs. “...Are you serious?”

Shen Nanli, who had been scrolling on his phone, spoke up. “So, I stayed at the HP Hotel last night, right? Around midnight, I heard a commotion outside, so I watched from the window to see what was going on. Turns out, someone got arrested for attempted sexual assault. Guess who it was?”

He forwarded the juicy details to their group chat.

“That disgusting creep!” Shang Jia cursed. “He actually went to a hotel? Who did he manage to trick into going with him?”

Xu Yan clicked into the post. The person whose real name, school, class, and student ID were exposed was none other than Lip, the guy who had become enraged after Xu Yan rejected him.

Shen Nanli said, “No clue. The victim’s information is protected. But Lin Xingxian was hosting a party there last night, and the guy happened to run into him. Apparently, he had some family background, but compared to Lin Xingxian, he was nothing. So Lin Xingxian helped the victim press for maximum charges. With the Lin family involved, he’s completely finished this time.”

“Pfft, serves him right.”

Xu Yan remained mostly silent throughout, quietly logging into the app’s backend to request a refund for Lip’s tips—which also incurred a 5% handling fee.

After completing everything, Xu Yan’s face fell.

His already tight finances were now even worse. Despite all his efforts, he seemed to be moving further and further away from his 1,000 yuan withdrawal goal.

He poked at the noodles in his bowl, feeling a bit dejected.

Perhaps he really wasn’t cut out for the internet. No matter how many followers or how impressive his likes were, they were just a bunch of virtual numbers displayed on a phone screen.

This ethereal feeling was like being suspended in mid-air, swaying with every gust of wind—visible, yet intangible, everything seeming like a fleeting dream, lacking any sense of reality.

Although he had already invested a lot of energy and effort, he found juggling the online world and real life exhausting. He was starting to feel reluctant to manage this account anymore.

As he pondered, he absentmindedly opened his wallet balance in the backend—only to widen his eyes in surprise when he saw the number. He leaned in closer to double-check; the amount hadn’t changed: 1456.9.

Who had tipped him a thousand yuan?!

Oh no, the platform also took half, so that person had actually tipped two thousand.

Shang Jia curiously leaned over and gasped in shock, “How much?!”

“Quick, check your fan rankings!”

Now quietly sitting at the top of the list was an account with the username “year,” which also appeared to be a new account.

After his last experience, Xu Yan now felt an inexplicable aversion to such newly created burner accounts. Who knew what malicious intentions lurked behind the people hiding online?

Shang Jia, seeing that Xu Yan had a new top tipper, her eyes lit up. “Out with the old, in with the new! Add him, quick, add him!”

Xu Yan sent a verification request from his WeChat alt account. The other side accepted almost immediately, but Xu Yan hesitated, clutching his phone. “I don’t know what to say. Can I still say what I said last time?”

Shang Jia simply took his phone. “Of course not! Your previous message sounded like a formal thank-you banquet. How is the other person supposed to reply to that? You need to treat this person like your sugar daddy—be sweeter. Later, I’ll send you my collected *Guide to Being a Supportive Fan*. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

With that, she buried her head in the phone and started typing.

[Yan Yan]: *Big brother, you’re topping the charts again~ You can ask for any reward you want!*

[Yan Yan]: *Kitty wink.jpg*

Author’s Note:

Heartfelt congratulations to Wen—the leg-fetishist, master of feigned indifference, mouth harder than Dior, four-year veteran (why is this nickname getting longer?)—for spending 2,000 yuan to get his wife’s WeChat.

Now, let’s fast-forward to some passionate video calls (just kidding).