Li Junfeng was clearly not someone who worried about money.
Head-to-toe brand names, an Omega on his wrist, a pink short-sleeved button-down — the overall effect was unmistakably playboy. [TL: 花花公子 — literally “playboy,” widely used in Chinese as shorthand for a well-dressed, wealthy, somewhat shallow young man with romantic ambitions]
He led the group to a proper restaurant and made a point of reserving a private room.
“Sit wherever you like, sit wherever you like.”
He ushered everyone in with easy hospitality, settled into the host’s seat as naturally as breathing, and snapped his fingers when the server came in with menus, then beckoned. The server read the room and presented the menu to him. He took it and passed it straight to Zhang Ruowei. “Lady first.”
He even threw in a bit of English.
With the menu sorted, he turned to make conversation. “So, it’s Xu — Xu Ye, right? Which university are you at?”
“Shanghai University of Finance.”
“I know that school. Decent cutoff scores in other provinces, but in Shanghai it’s a second-tier. If you hadn’t come to Shanghai, you probably could’ve gotten into a better 211.” [TL: 211 — refers to the “Project 211” university designation, one of the two elite tiers of Chinese universities, just below the more selective 985 tier]
Xu Ye lifted his and Qingqing’s joined hands slightly and smiled. “What can I say — my girlfriend wanted to come to Shanghai, so here I am.”
Taking in the sight of their hands locked together, Li Junfeng’s smile went just slightly rigid. He cleared his throat. “It must be quite a trip from the Finance School though, right?”
“It’s not bad.”
“I think it’s forty minutes by car.”
“I came by subway.”
“That’d be over an hour, then?”
“About that.”
Zhang Ruowei had already had enough of this conversation. She quickly checked off a few dishes and handed the menu back. “Done.”
Li Junfeng looked around. “Anyone else want to add anything?”
“We’re fine.”
He held the menu out to Xu Ye. “What about you — anything you feel like?”
“You’re treating, so you call it.”
Li Junfeng shrugged. “Fair enough.”
He didn’t hold back — added a good number of dishes without hesitation.
Qingqing finally managed to extract her hand from Xu Ye’s. It had been held so long her palm was damp.
Xu Ye leaned in close and said under his breath, “Stay away from this one. I don’t like him.”
Qingqing remembered what Xu Ye had said last night, and asked in a teasing murmur, “Why — are you jealous?”
“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.
She stared at him. She hadn’t expected that. He’d just said it, flat out, no deflection. Her gaze dropped; she pinched the hem of her shirt between her fingers, something unnamed moving through her expression.
In truth, Qingqing disliked Li Junfeng even more than Xu Ye did — he was the most performative person in their whole class, and she’d never once engaged with him beyond the occasional nod in the classroom. She’d never been able to figure out why he bothered her so much.
Watching Xu Ye and Qingqing whisper to each other, Li Junfeng was inwardly baffled.
Qingqing barely said a word to anyone except her roommates. So why was she like this with Xu Ye?
The dishes came out one by one.
Xu Ye ate with the calm of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove, pausing regularly to serve pieces to Qingqing. She understood what he was doing and played along without comment.
“Where did you all end up going today?”
The table fell into easy conversation, voices trading off. Xu Ye stayed out of it — he had nothing to contribute to their classmate catch-up and no particular desire to.
But Li Junfeng seemed to notice. After a stretch of Xu Ye’s silence, he smiled and said, “Xu Ye, how long have you and Qingqing been together?”
“A while.”
“That basically counts as young love, doesn’t it?”
Xu Ye smiled. “I suppose. Both sets of parents are pretty open-minded. Her mom doesn’t object to us being together.”
Li Junfeng looked surprised. “Your parents know about you two?”
“Of course. Is that unusual?”
“Oh, no—” He shook his head quickly. “Just asking. What do your parents do, by the way?”
“My dad’s lower-level civil service. My mom works at a small company. Pretty normal jobs.”
That, apparently, was the foothold Li Junfeng had been looking for. He launched into his performance:
“Honestly, I envy people from ordinary families like that. My dad runs a company here in Shanghai — my mom handles the finances there too. The two of them are busy year-round. I only see them during Chinese New Year. Every time they call, all they want to know is whether I need money. They’ve never once asked what I actually enjoy or care about…”
Zhang Xiaobei offered the expected support: “That’s not so bad though. Money’s the main thing, right?”
“I mean, sure, but sometimes it feels a bit hollow. Then again, it’s because my family doesn’t have money problems that I was able to come to an arts school. My parents would never have agreed to let me study music otherwise…”
Xu Ye was running low on patience.
This guy’s whole performance was genuinely asking to be shut down.
If he’d known Li Junfeng at all, he might have pulled him aside and said: Bro, that’s not how you show off. But he had no relationship with Li Junfeng and no interest in developing one. He kept his mouth shut.
As the monologue escalated toward full keynote territory, Xu Ye quietly reached under the table for his phone, made a small adjustment in his Alipay settings, and set it face-up on the table.
“…In Shanghai, making ten to twenty million a year barely even counts as wealthy. My dad’s company last year did around ten million…”
Li Junfeng was mid-sentence.
Xu Ye’s phone went off: “Alipay payment received: 23 yuan.”
No one paid much attention. Li Junfeng didn’t either. He continued. “But the economy’s been better this year, might be—”
“Alipay payment received: 18 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 21.5 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 11 yuan.”
“…”
It was early evening — peak hours at the fruit shop. A steady stream of customers. The notifications weren’t going to stop.
With everyone’s eyes quietly drifting toward his phone, Xu Ye offered a brief, apologetic explanation. “Sorry about that — I opened a little fruit shop at school. It gets busy around this time. Let me just turn the volume down. Please, carry on.”
“…Anyway, the economy’s looking better this year, might even do more than last year. My dad’s looking at possibly—”
“Alipay payment received: 9.5 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 30 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 14 yuan.”
He kept going. “My dad’s probably going to expand the company next year—”
“Alipay payment received: 52 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 9 yuan.”
BANG. Li Junfeng’s palm came down on the table.
Zhang Ruowei looked up. “What was that?”
Li Junfeng’s expression was studied and grim. “Nothing. A mosquito. Keep eating.”
“Alipay payment received: 8 yuan.”
“Alipay payment received: 19 yuan.”
The notifications continued without mercy for the next half hour.
The keynote had gone silent.
Xu Ye ate with perfect composure, paused occasionally to serve Qingqing, and otherwise kept his expression completely neutral. When he’d finished eating, he pulled a napkin from his pocket under the table, gave Qingqing a quiet tap, and shot her a look.
The look said: play along for a second, let’s close this out.
Qingqing hesitated, then thought: fine, I’ll indulge this dumb pig just this once.
When Xu Ye lifted the napkin to her face, she let him dab the corner of her mouth.
He asked, gently, “Full?”
“Mm.”
He stood, took her hand, and turned to Li Junfeng. “Well — thanks for dinner. We’ll head off.”
Li Junfeng managed a smile and nodded.
He watched all four girls follow Xu Ye out the door.
(End of Chapter)