It had only been a shared cafeteria lunch, but by that afternoon half the campus knew about it. From there it spread the way these things always spread, and by the next day the rumor that Xu Ye and Jiang Wei were “together” had reached a remarkable number of ears.
Starting Tuesday, Xu Ye could feel the envious, resentful stares of half the male student body following him across campus.
He didn’t bother explaining anything. Jiang Wei seemed equally unbothered by the gossip. Two more days passed. The paperwork for Xinye Trading Co., Ltd. finally came through — money well spent. Thursday afternoon, the vending machines arrived from the factory. Xu Ye worked alongside the installation crew, going position by position through every planned placement site. By the time the last unit was mounted and all thirty-odd machines had been stocked — Xu Ye, Zhang Xinzhou, and Yang Fei loading in drinks until everything was full — it was past eleven at night.
He showered, climbed into bed, opened his phone, and found two messages waiting.
One from Qin Zhiwei.
One from Qingqing.
Qin Zhiwei: The logistics director at our school is named Zhang Bin. About forty-five, drives a Volkswagen Sagitar, lives in the faculty apartment building on campus but I’ve heard he has a place off-campus too.
Xu Ye: Can you get me anything actually useful?
Qin Zhiwei: What counts as useful?
Xu Ye: I want to know his weaknesses. Eating, drinking, gambling, anything on the side — which ones apply, and how many?
Qin Zhiwei: How am I supposed to find that out?
Xu Ye: Tail him. Casually.
Qin Zhiwei: You want me to follow him?
Xu Ye: Not follow — investigate. There’s a difference.
Xu Ye: Wei-bro, business is war. As long as it’s legal, any tactic is fair game.
Qin Zhiwei: I’ll try.
He’d been running both conversations at once. While typing to Qin Zhiwei, he was already replying to Qingqing.
Chen Qingqing: Why so late?
Xu Ye: Went to restock tonight. Vending machines are all set up — money starts flowing from tomorrow.
Chen Qingqing: I’m already getting sleepy.
Xu Ye: Then go to bed. You don’t have to wait for me.
Xu Ye: You were waiting because you were worried about me, weren’t you?
Chen Qingqing: Was not~
Xu Ye: Tomorrow’s Friday. One more day and you get to see me again. Excited?
Chen Qingqing: Not even a little.
Xu Ye: Then I won’t come.
Chen Qingqing: If you go back on your word you are done for. /cleaver/ /cleaver/ /cleaver/
Xu Ye: So what are we doing this weekend?
Chen Qingqing: Whatever you feel like.
Xu Ye: How about we go on a show together?
Chen Qingqing: Which show?
Xu Ye: If You Are the One. [TL: 非诚勿扰 — one of the most popular dating variety shows in Chinese television history, airing on Jiangsu Satellite TV since 2010; the format involves one male contestant and twenty-four female panelists who can “switch off” their light if they’re not interested, or “light up” to signal attraction] You go on as a female panelist, I come out as the male contestant, you light up for me, we get matched, and the show pays for a week in Hainan for us. [TL: winning couples on the show typically received sponsored travel packages as prizes]
Chen Qingqing: I’m not listening, la la la.
Chen Qingqing: Going to sleep.
Chen Qingqing: Messages you send now I won’t even see.
Xu Ye: Goodnight.
One minute later.
Chen Qingqing: Goodnight.
…
Friday afternoon was free.
After lunch at the cafeteria, Xu Ye went to the shop and sat in front of the computer, pulling up the backend management system for the machines — it displayed live sales figures and stock levels for every unit.
“The teaching building units have each done sixty to ninety yuan so far this morning. Afternoon’s probably busier for drinks, so I’m guessing somewhere between two and three hundred per machine per day. Even at a thirty percent gross margin, the daily figures are looking solid.”
“When I went to class this morning, there were clusters of people around every machine. Milk was selling fast in the morning.”
Xu Ye nodded. “Volume’s good. We can’t keep up with restocking ourselves — we need two more part-timers just for that. Dedicated to stocking the machines.”
Zhang Xinzhou: “Post in the school forum?”
Xu Ye shook his head. “The work’s not hard. Let me ask around in class first — someone will want it.”
“Also,” he added, “keep an eye on which drinks are moving fastest. We’ll adjust our orders accordingly going forward.”
“Got it.”
While the four of them were still talking, Jiang Wei walked into the fruit shop. She spotted Xu Ye at the computer, made a beeline for him, and pushed him aside. “Move, move — let me see, let me see.”
She was visibly more excited about this than he was.
It was her first time in business with someone. The thought that she was technically a small business owner now had made it nearly impossible to focus in her morning classes.
Xu Ye vacated the seat. She sat down immediately, eyes fixed on the data on the screen.
Half a minute in, she said, “Not bad at all. This much in one morning — at this rate, we’ll hit break-even pretty quickly.”
She wasn’t wrong. If daily sales held at this level, the payback period would be short. Two factors explained it:
One — a university campus meant guaranteed foot traffic, something you couldn’t replicate at a random commercial location.
Two — Director Jiang’s help had been enormous. The venue and electricity fees were essentially symbolic. At any other school, those costs alone could have eaten deep into profits, and the unofficial “relationship management” expenses on top would have been considerable.
“Not bad being my partner, right?”
“Please.” Jiang Wei gave him a look that expressed both contempt and satisfaction simultaneously. “Without me, who knows if this would have even worked.”
“True, true. Absolutely no one can match the contribution of the great campus belle.”
She stood. “I’ve got class this afternoon. Going back to nap first, I’ll come back once I’m done. You’re all here this afternoon?”
“We’re free in the afternoon.”
Xu Ye shook his head. “I might not be here by evening. I may need to go out to Pudong Airport. Call me if anything comes up.”
“Sure.”
...
At three-thirty that afternoon, Xu Ye sent Jiang Meilin a message asking whether she needed him to come meet her at the airport.
She replied half an hour later — she’d just landed and was already in a car, said she’d be at his school’s entrance in twenty-five minutes, and asked him to send her his location.
He thought about it and decided he should have known better. Jiang Meilin was head-to-toe designer labels, carrying a bag worth more than most people earned in a month, the kind of executive who would naturally have a company driver arranged well in advance. He’d been worrying unnecessarily.
Twenty-five minutes later, his phone rang — Jiang Meilin.
He jogged to the school’s south gate. An Audi pulled up; through the window he could see Jiang Meilin inside. She pressed the button and rolled it down, waving.
“Xiao Xu~”
He trotted over, voice warm. “Auntie.”
“I’ve already booked a hotel near Qingqing’s school. Will you come with me tonight?”
“I’ll need to grab a few things from the dorm first.”
She smiled. “No rush. Take me to that fruit shop of yours first.”
“Absolutely.”
He opened the rear door and got in without ceremony, then directed the driver down toward the food street.
The car pulled up outside the shop.
Xu Ye pointed. “Auntie, this is the one.”
Jiang Meilin turned to look. Her eyes settled on the sign above the door. The corner of her mouth curved up.
“Well now. Qingqing Fruit Shop.”
(End of Chapter 100)