Qin Zhiwei stood at the school gate, scanning the stream of people heading his way.
One hand shoved in his pocket, he’d been alternating between checking his phone and squinting up at the sky, which was getting darker by the minute, muttering internally: this idiot, why isn’t he here yet.
Two straight days of rain had pushed the sunset earlier and earlier — by five thirty, it already felt like full night.
Xu Ye came off the subway at a jog, and spotted Qin Zhiwei from a distance. “Zhiwei! Zhiwei!”
The sound of that name made Qin Zhiwei’s whole body go tense with irritation.
The moment Xu Ye got close, he snapped, “Can you please stop calling me that?!”
Xu Ye slung an arm around his shoulder, steering them toward the campus entrance. “I’ve been calling you that for years, it comes out automatically. Forget it — we don’t have much time. Do you know which office Zhang Bin is in?”
“I do, I’ll take you—”
“Don’t bother,” Xu Ye cut in. “I’ll go alone. You stay out of it.”
Qin Zhiwei immediately bristled. “Are you kidding me?! I’ve been doing groundwork for ages and now you just show up and cut me out?”
“Think for two seconds.”
Xu Ye explained patiently. “His wife doesn’t know about the mistress. We do — that makes it leverage over him. If you walk in there with me and he figures it out later, what happens to you? You still go to this school. I don’t. So what’s your play if he decides to make your life difficult?”
That landed. Qin Zhiwei scratched the back of his head. “Fair point. Go on your own then. Third floor, third office on the left.”
“Got it.”
Xu Ye followed Qin Zhiwei as far as the main building, then headed up the stairs alone, bag slung over one shoulder.
He found the office easily — light visible through the gap under the door. He straightened his clothes, then knocked twice.
Zhang Bin had been about to call it a day. The knock annoyed him. “Come in,” he said flatly.
Xu Ye pushed the door open and walked in with an easy smile.
Zhang Bin glanced up at him, took him for some student from one of the departments, and went back to looking busy without really looking at him. “What is it?”
Xu Ye reached into his pocket and placed a business card on the desk in front of him. “Director Zhang, hello. I’m the head of Xinye Trading Co. — I came today to talk to you about a campus partnership opportunity.”
Courtesy before force — that was Xu Ye’s operating principle in dealings like this.
Pulling out the leverage right away would only put the other person on the defensive and leave him with nowhere to maneuver. So he’d run through the proper channels first, the way you were supposed to.
Zhang Bin picked up the business card and gave it a look. He settled back into his ergonomic chair, and something in his expression shifted slightly. “Starting a business this young?”
“Just a small operation.”
“What kind?”
Xu Ye ran through his usual pitch — the same one he’d given Director Jiang Ping — keeping it clean and succinct. Zhang Bin heard him out, then asked, entirely without enthusiasm, “Which schools have you partnered with so far?”
“We’re already running machines across both campuses at Shanghai University of Finance. We’re also in talks with Fudan and Shanghai University of Finance and Economics — both are looking likely to go through.”
That got Zhang Bin’s attention — not for the business itself, and not for the kid pitching it, but for what the names implied. You didn’t get your foot in those doors without someone opening them for you. And given how young Xu Ye was, Zhang Bin’s natural conclusion was that Xu Ye was just the face being put out front, that somewhere behind him was someone with real connections pulling the strings.
Xu Ye had also pulled out three cartons of cigarettes from his bag while he talked, setting them down quietly on the desk. “I was in a bit of a rush getting here, and I wasn’t sure what you’d like — picked these up on the way. Hope you don’t mind.”
Zhang Bin’s expression didn’t change as he looked at the cigarettes.
As the school’s logistics director, he received gifts on a fairly regular basis — luxury goods, spirits, fine teas, premium cigarettes. On the cigarette front, the baseline people generally brought was Chunghwa. [TL: 中华, China’s most prestigious domestic cigarette brand — the standard gift cigarette at mid-to-high official levels, roughly analogous to bringing a top-shelf scotch; anything less reads as underprepared]
This offering didn’t clear that bar. The look on Zhang Bin’s face said it plainly: You brought this to impress a party official?
Xu Ye caught the disdain in his eyes and pivoted smoothly. “If you have any time to spare, Director Zhang, would you honor me with a meal? My treat.”
Zhang Bin shook his head. “Not tonight — I’ve already got plans. Add me on WeChat, let me know in advance tomorrow.”
“No problem.”
Xu Ye added him on WeChat, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and took his leave.
The moment he was gone, Zhang Bin stuffed the business card carelessly into his desk drawer. He shrugged on his jacket, tucked all three cartons of cigarettes into his briefcase, and headed out.
He didn’t drive home. He went directly to the residential compound where his mistress lived.
In the parking lot downstairs, he sent his wife a text: “Something came up at school today, I’ll be home late.”
She replied quickly: “Okay, should I save dinner for you?”
“No need, I ate at school.”
“Sure.”
He pocketed his phone, did a cautious scan of the surrounding area before getting out of the car, then headed upstairs.
The moment the door opened, a woman who looked to be in her late twenties came running in bare feet to meet him, throwing herself into his arms and calling out in a breathy, coaxing voice: “Honey~”
Zhang Bin’s whole demeanor transformed on the spot.
…
Xu Ye and Qin Zhiwei sat eating in the school cafeteria.
After hearing the debrief, Qin Zhiwei frowned. “You’ve got each other’s WeChat, so if you take him to dinner tomorrow, that should wrap things up, right?”
“Hard to say.” Xu Ye smiled coolly. “My read on this Zhang Bin — his appetite is a lot bigger than a dinner is going to satisfy.”
“So what if he makes unreasonable demands? You going to agree to them?”
“Absolutely not.” Xu Ye’s voice was even. “If I can’t protect my own interests, I’d rather blow the whole thing up. I’m not invested either way.”
Qin Zhiwei let the topic go with a sigh. “This place is so boring. If this deal comes through, at least I’ll have something going on. My roommates are something else — every single one of them, and the worst one is this guy who hides in the bathroom every night to watch his videos — complete and utter disaster…”
Qin Zhiwei’s grievances against his dormmates appeared to be bottomless; once he started, there was no stopping him. Xu Ye ate and listened, throwing in a comment here and there.
He was just about finishing his meal when Qin Zhiwei suddenly changed course. “Oh, right — Xu Ye. Day after tomorrow is my birthday. Isn’t your dad’s birthday around the same time?”
“…!!!”
Xu Ye had nearly forgotten.
Qin Zhiwei and Old Xu’s birthdays were only a few days apart — every year around October, Xu Ye would remember to mark it, but since being reborn, the thought had almost completely slipped his mind.
He grabbed his phone immediately and fired off a message to his father: “Dad, happy birthday.”
Old Xu had had a rough day at work — someone had given him an earful — and his mood had been in the gutter all day. On top of that, today being his birthday, Zhang Hong had confiscated what remained of his secret stash of cash, which made everything considerably worse.
Old Xu: “Happy your ass.”
Old Xu: “Not a cent to my name, what’s happy about any of this.”
Xu Ye: “Transferred it to you on Alipay.”
Old Xu: “Good son. Miss you. When are you coming home?”
Old Xu: “Son, I checked — there’s nothing on Alipay, are you sure you sent it right?”
Old Xu: “Did you send it to the wrong person?”
Xu Ye: “Oh, you’re not in my Alipay contacts. I sent it to Mom.”
Old Xu: “Well then, happy your mother’s ass indeed.”
Old Xu: “You little ingrate.”
(End of Chapter 111)