The next day — Sunday.

Xu Ye roused all three roommates out of bed early, and once the four of them had eaten breakfast, they headed over to the package pickup point together.

He’d ordered a lot online: disposable plastic bags, stretch wrap, labels, assorted fruit knives and cutting boards, a digital scale, two security cameras, and the payment QR codes he’d set up through Alipay and WeChat.

The four of them staggered back to the shop loaded down with packages, and Xu Ye immediately started delegating. “Zhang Xinzhou and I are on security camera installation. You two handle putting up the labels. Li Tongwen, I’ll walk you through the cash register once we’re done.”

“Got it~”

They got to work. By around eleven, a small truck rolled down the food street and pulled up outside Qingqing Fruit Shop.

Xu Ye recognized the familiar van immediately. “Everyone get out here and help unload!”

With three roommates and Chen Jianjun all pitching in, they had the fruit moved inside in no time. Chen Jianjun looked around at the fully prepped shop and shook his head with an appreciative laugh. “Didn’t expect you to put this together so properly.”

“Uncle Chen, what’s the delivery fee? Let me transfer it to you.”

Chen Jianjun waved him off at first — called it a wash for the first run — but Xu Ye wouldn’t hear it, and in the end Chen Jianjun named a fair number.

“All right, Uncle Chen, I won’t hold you up. Next time I need a load, I’ll just message you on WeChat.”

“Works for me.”

Once Chen Jianjun had pulled away, Xu Ye clapped his hands together. “Okay, listen up — watermelons, bayberries, bananas, and pineapples go up front by the entrance. Grapes, peaches, anything that spoils faster, on the side shelves. And I want everything arranged neatly.”

He was about to start on it himself when his phone went off in his pocket.

Qin Zhiwei.

He picked up. “Xu Ye, I’m at your school’s main gate.”

“Open a map app. Head to the food street by the south gate. The shop’s called Qingqing Fruit Shop. You can walk straight in.”

“You said you’d come meet me, you—”

“Stop complaining, I’m genuinely busy. I’ll take you out for a proper meal tonight.”

He hung up.

Xu Ye glanced at the time and turned to Yang Fei. “It’s almost noon, Yang Fei, go get lunch.”

“What do you want?”

“What’s the cheapest option?”

“Egg fried rice.”

“Get five portions then.”

“Five?”

“My buddy’s coming.”

“Got it.”

Without fruit in the cases yesterday, the shop had felt like something was missing. Now, with every variety arranged in the display cases, the place actually looked like a real operation.

Qin Zhiwei came trudging in from the main gate and somehow tracked down the shop called Qingqing on the food street. He stepped inside with a look of open disbelief, spotted Xu Ye, and immediately said, “No way — you’re actually here?!”

Xu Ye grabbed him and pulled him in. “Let me introduce everyone. This is my best friend, Qin Zhiwei. Goes by Wei-bro.”

“This is Zhang Xinzhou — family owns three entire buildings in Shenzhen, second-generation demolition money.”

“This is Li Tongwen — scored eighty points above the first-tier cutoff on the gaokao.” [TL: scoring eighty points above the 一本 (yīběn) cutoff is genuinely impressive — the first-tier line already separates top universities from the rest, so that kind of margin signals exceptional academic ability]

“And there’s one more who went to get food, he should be back—”

Yang Fei reappeared in the doorway with five boxes of egg fried rice before Xu Ye even finished the sentence. “That’s Yang Fei. You two should get along great.”

Xu Ye took the bags, handed a box to each person, and passed the last one to Qin Zhiwei.

Qin Zhiwei looked at the box in Xu Ye’s hand. “What’s this?”

“What do you mean, what’s this — it’s noon, it’s lunch.”

“You just told me you’d take me out for a proper meal. I rode the subway for two hours to get here and you’re feeding me a six-yuan box of egg fried rice?!”

Yang Fei, helpfully: “Buddy, at our school, egg fried rice is only five yuan.”

Qin Zhiwei: “Does anyone have a knife? I want to kill him.”

Xu Ye shoved the box into his hands without ceremony. “We’ve all been working since morning. Suck it up for lunch and I’ll take you out properly tonight.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me anymore.”

Xu Ye, knowing he deserved that, opted for a tactical pivot. “Wei-bro, don’t be petty about it. Look around — anything in this shop, help yourself to whatever you want.”

“All right, hold on.” Qin Zhiwei finally got to the actual point. “This fruit shop is really yours?”

Xu Ye pointed at Zhang Xinzhou. “Mine and Zhang Xinzhou’s, joint venture.”

He’d already introduced Zhang Xinzhou, so Qin Zhiwei did the mental math and assumed Zhang Xinzhou had put up the money. He didn’t ask further.

All five of them squatted by the shop entrance, shoveling food down.

Between bites, Xu Ye laid out the afternoon’s tasks. “When lunch is done — Zhang Xinzhou, go to the print shop and get our fruit prices made into a pull-up banner. I want it outside the door for foot traffic. All our prices are fully listed and transparent, no short-weighing or any of that nonsense. Also, I’m setting up a WeChat group this afternoon — every customer who comes in, try to get them to join. Tell them we run promotions in the group and announce deals there first. I want to build a base of regular customers we can reach directly.”

The four of them stared at him, a bit dazed.

He kept going. “On top of that, customers can @ us in the group to place orders. Buy over fifty yuan and we deliver free anywhere on campus.”

“After lunch I’ll draft a Moments post. You three share it. Any customer who collects ten likes on Moments gets ten percent off. Twenty likes gets twenty off. Thirty likes gets thirty off. I want to spread the word as fast as possible — I want every single student at the Finance School to know there’s a new fruit shop on the food street.”

“I want to give the owner of Kangyuan Fruit Shop a masterclass in what it means to be outclassed.”

“What? Why are you all staring at me?”

Yang Fei blinked. “Xu Ye, have you done business before?”

“No.”

“Then how do you—”

Xu Ye closed his takeout box and dropped it in the bin, wiped his hands on a napkin. “Some people are just born knowing this stuff. Now stop asking questions and finish your food, we’re wasting time.”

All four of them picked up the pace.

Xu Ye spent half an hour drafting a Moments post, uploaded photos of the shop, and published it — then shared it directly into the class group chat.

Financial Economics Class 1 erupted almost immediately.

Zhao Xiaohui: @Class President — ???

Xu Ye: Opened a fruit shop on the food street. If anyone needs anything, come by. Fellow classmates get thirty percent off — but only if you share my Moments post first.

Guo Caixia: President, you opened this yourself?

Xu Ye: Yeah.

Qin Yu: I’m on my way!

Gao Bohai: Legendary

Zhao Xiaohui: I’ll be there this afternoon.

A point becomes a line, a line becomes a surface.

Xu Ye was the point. His classmates were the lines, each one carrying their own circle of contacts. The moment those Moments shares started going out, Qingqing Fruit Shop was already trending.

(End of Chapter)