Chapter 38

Among the group, only Chen Jun, who had known the inside story beforehand, remained relatively calm. Seeing the others struggling to process the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a subtle sense of satisfaction.

Once the three latecomers took their seats, the gathering could finally begin.

Snapping out of his daze with difficulty, the president called for the waiter to bring the menu. Normally, club gatherings would have a predetermined menu to fit the budget, with a slight increase if any family members were brought along.

But in the tense atmosphere at the moment, the Club president held the menu with sweaty palms for a long time without managing to order a single dish. He glanced at Mi Zhao’s partner sitting diagonally across from him.

The man’s cane rested against the wall behind him, and seated as he was, he appeared no different from anyone else.

No, that wasn’t right.

There was a difference—a big one.

Among a group of students who had, at most, just stepped into society, this man was like a crane among chickens. Leaving aside his looks and attire, the aura he exuded—one of undeniable superiority—was enough to set him apart.

The Club president was inexplicably reminded of the CEO of the company where he was interning—calm and composed on the surface, yet ruthless in action.

Some unpleasant memories made the him involuntarily shudder. Before his brain could even react, his hands had already presented the menu to Li Sipei.

“Brother, you’re probably the oldest here. Why don’t you order?”

Even if it was customary to let family members order out of politeness, it didn’t make sense to hand over all the decision-making power to just one person—especially when there was a budget to consider.

Yet, strangely enough, no one objected. Instead, they all looked eagerly at Li Sipei.

Li Sipei made no move to take the menu. After a two-second pause, he turned his head toward Mi Zhao.

“You do it.”

Not wanting to see the president continue to flounder, Mi Zhao quickly stood up and took the menu. “I got it. Didn’t we already decide on the dishes in the group chat? I’ll just follow that list.”

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone, scrolled through the chat history, and swiftly placed the order, adding a few lighter dishes along the way.

After the waiter confirmed the order and left, the table fell into silence once more.

The president threw the vice president several meaningful glances, forcing her to brace herself and step up to liven the mood. After some idle chatter, she turned to Mi Zhao and asked the question everyone was curious about:

“When did you two meet?”

As soon as she spoke, all eyes immediately locked onto Mi Zhao.

Though no one had said much so far, their curiosity was practically bursting at the seams.

It wasn’t so much about the fact that Mi Zhao’s partner was male—it was about the fact that Mi Zhao’s partner was this kind of man.

Back when rumors were going around that Mi Zhao’s partner was living off of him, some had already speculated that his partner might be male, considering the term people used* had a rather specific connotation. But regardless of gender, one thing had seemed certain: Mi Zhao’s partner was greedy and incompetent. Otherwise, why would someone from a wealthy family like Mi Zhao be working so hard for extra income?

TN/ *軟飯” (chī ruǎn fàn) is an expression in Chinese that refers to a man who depends on a woman (typically for financial support), often with a negative connotation.

Everyone had imagined that Mi Zhao’s partner would be the type who flaunted designer brands, dressed flamboyantly, and wore overpowering cologne.

And yet, the reality before them—

As they sneaked glances at Li Sipei, they realized he was nothing like what they had imagined.

Just based on appearance alone, did he look anything like a man who lived off someone else? If someone claimed he was a government official or a high-ranking executive, people would believe it without question.

Hadn’t they just mistaken him for a welfare home administrator?

Unaware of the convoluted thoughts in everyone’s minds, Mi Zhao recalled their first meeting and answered, “During summer break.”

The vice president was surprised. “This summer?”

Mi Zhao nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then you’ve only known each other for two or three months?” The Club president, unsure of exactly when in the summer they had met, simply estimated from the beginning of break. With admiration, he remarked, “You made it public so quickly—you must have a great relationship.”

A female student deliberately teased in a playful tone, “They’re practically family now. Of course their relationship is good.”

As the dishes arrived, the atmosphere gradually warmed up. A few glasses of fruit wine later, everyone started chatting and laughing more freely.

Worried that Li Sipei might not be used to this kind of setting, Mi Zhao kept using the serving chopsticks to place food onto his plate.

Li Sipei didn’t refuse, eating at his usual unhurried pace. His long, thick eyelashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, and his quiet demeanor made him seem out of place in the lively crowd.

Unable to resist, Mi Zhao reached for Li Sipei’s left hand and gently squeezed it on his lap.

Li Sipei turned to look at him.

Mi Zhao blinked at him. “Are you okay?”

Li Sipei, puzzled, let out a soft “Mm?”

“You’re not used to crowded places, right?” Mi Zhao hesitated to say outright that his Club was too noisy. “If you’re uncomfortable, let me know. We can leave early.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a loud tsk came from the side.

Turning his head, Mi Zhao saw Yan Qinting clutching half his face with a pained expression. “Damn, I never knew you could be this considerate.”

Expressionless, Mi Zhao elbowed him.

“Ow—!”

Rolling his eyes, Mi Zhao turned back and warned Li Sipei, “Ignore him. He talks too much.”

Yan Qinting might not understand Li Sipei, but Mi Zhao did—his emotions were as unfathomable as the ocean, impossible to predict. One careless word could set him off.

He worried that Yan Qinting’s blunt remarks might upset Li Sipei. But after observing for a moment, he noticed that the corners of Li Sipei’s lips were slightly curved, amusement spreading through his eyes.

Then, Li Sipei interlocked his fingers with Mi Zhao’s, mirroring his earlier gesture. Their palms pressed together, fingers tightly intertwined.

Feeling this, Mi Zhao’s heart was touched by something indescribable. His thumb gently brushed over the back of Li Sipei’s hand as he smiled. “What is it?”

Li Sipei gazed at him intently.

There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but this wasn’t the right place.

In the end, he simply shook his head.

Mi Zhao picked up the serving chopsticks and placed a piece of salmon in Li Sipei’s dish, dipping it lightly in soy sauce. Just as he was about to speak, a stumbling figure approached.

It was Chen Jun.

He had drunk quite a bit of fruit wine. Though fruit wine wasn’t particularly strong, cup after cup had taken its toll. Under the bright lights, his flushed face was clearly visible as his gaze flickered between Mi Zhao and Li Sipei.

After what had happened that morning, Mi Zhao’s impression of Chen Jun had shifted from neutral to dislike. He had assumed that after burning bridges, Chen Jun would stop trying to engage with him.

“You need something?” Mi Zhao’s tone was far from welcoming. Noticing Chen Jun’s eyes lingering on his and Li Sipei’s clasped hands, he deliberately tightened his grip.

Chen Jun awkwardly scratched his nose.

He admitted that he had been prejudiced against Mi Zhao before. To be blunt, he had simply been jealous of how popular Mi Zhao was with the girls. He had treated him as a rival, even though it wasn’t as if those girls would like him in Mi Zhao’s absence.

Now that he knew Mi Zhao liked men, all that hostility had instantly vanished. He suddenly felt a strange sense of camaraderie—as if they were brothers.

Since he was in the wrong, Chen Jun didn’t mind humbling himself.

“I was out of line this morning. I’m here to apologize.” Chen Jun poured himself a full cup of fruit wine, raised it toward Mi Zhao, and said sincerely, “Sorry about that. You’re a bigger person than me—don’t hold it against me.”

With that, he downed the entire glass in one go.

Seeing that Chen Jun’s attitude was quite sincere, Mi Zhao’s expression improved a little. He waved his hand and said, “It’s okay, it’s all over.” 

Chen Jun pulled over a chair and sat down, put the empty wine glass on the table, and looked at Li Sipei with a chuckle. 

“Brother, you’re not from our school, are you?” 

Li Sipei naturally guessed that Mi Zhao and Chen Jun might have had an unpleasant encounter today. His face was even colder than Mi Zhao’s, his eyelids were half drooped, and he did not answer.

Silence began to spread.

Chen Jun’s expression gradually stiffened, awkwardness creeping onto his face.

The others also fell silent, watching the scene unfold. The president and vice president nudged each other, neither willing to step in and ease the tension.

It was Mi Zhao who took pity on Chen Jun and answered on Li Sipei’s behalf. “He graduated a long time ago.”

“Oh.” Chen Jun let out a breath of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I thought so—Brother just doesn’t have the vibe of a student. Where do you work, Brother?”

Mi Zhao’s lips curled slightly as he raised an eyebrow.

He had figured it out.

Chen Jun’s apology was secondary; his real motive was to dig into Li Sipei’s background.

The others were also extremely curious and pricked up their ears.

However, Mi Zhao’s expression visibly darkened, a suppressed irritation building in his chest, ready to explode at any moment. When he was with Li Sipei, he always avoided bringing up certain topics—no talk of education, no talk of work, no talk of the past.

And yet, here Chen Jun was, poking at two of them right off the bat.

“Chen Jun, you—”

Just as Mi Zhao was about to retort, he was cut off by Li Sipei’s sudden voice from behind him.

“I don’t have a job.”

“Huh?” Chen Jun was stunned for a moment before blurting out his next question. “Then… then do you just stay at home all day?”

“I don’t live at home either,” Li Sipei said. “I’m currently staying at a friend’s place.”

These two answers were so unexpected that Chen Jun was at a loss for words.

Mi Zhao’s brows furrowed deeply, his dislike for Chen Jun surging to an all-time high. He turned to squeeze Li Sipei’s hand. “You don’t have to respond to him.”

Chen Jun quickly realized he had stepped on a landmine and panicked, hastily trying to explain himself. “Mi Zhao, I was just making conversation, I didn’t mean—”

“Enough, just stop talking.” Mi Zhao cut him off impatiently.

Chen Jun choked on his words, his face flushing a deep red.

Mi Zhao stood up, grabbed the cane, and helped Li Sipei to his feet.

Neither the president nor the vice president had expected Mi Zhao to get this angry. Thinking Chen Jun must have been intentionally provoking him, they rushed forward to pull Chen Jun away and tried to calm Mi Zhao down.

“Mi Zhao, don’t be mad. We’ll talk to Chen Jun later.”

The vice president, who had never liked Chen Jun, didn’t hold back at all. “Chen Jun is just a troublemaker! This morning, he was already picking a fight with Mi Zhao. He just can’t go a day without causing problems, can he?”

Chen Jun protested in distress, “I’m being wronged here!”

The president ignored him and turned to Mi Zhao. “The food isn’t even all served yet. If you guys leave now, it’s too early. Why not stay and finish the meal?”

Mi Zhao had no interest in seeing Chen Jun’s face any longer and was about to refuse when Li Sipei spoke first.

“You all enjoy. We have things to do.”

The president looked regretful.

“Oh, right.” Li Sipei added, “Since you all treated me to dinner as a thank-you, I can help with the funding issue you mentioned.”

The Club president and vice president were momentarily stunned before they realized what he meant.

Earlier, after a few drinks, they had vented about being ghosted by Lin Qiuzu.

Lin Qiuzu had promised to sponsor their event, but when the time came, he vanished—calls went unanswered, and he was nowhere to be found. They had spent days searching for him, only to finally accept that they’d been played.

They were, of course, furious, but mostly helpless. Money wasn’t something they could just snatch from someone’s pocket.

The real problem was their budget. Not only did they have to cut costs for this event, but they also had to tighten spending for future ones. Lin Qiuzu’s false promises had led them to spend quite a bit already.

Processing Li Sipei’s words, both the president and vice president’s faces lit up with joy.

“How much do you need?” Li Sipei asked.

The president hesitated before raising two fingers, his voice nervous and stuttering. “T-Twenty thousand.”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

Was he asking for too much? People said Mi Zhao was supporting his boyfriend. If that were true, the man in front of him might not even have two thousand to spare, let alone twenty.

Just as he was contemplating taking back his request, Li Sipei made a call.

Soon, a woman named Ruan Xin entered the restaurant.

She wore a sleek business-casual suit, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail. With sharp features and an imposing aura, she exuded professionalism. As she strode in with the crisp click of her low heels, everyone—including the president and vice president—was intimidated by her presence.

“Mr. Li.” Ruan Xin greeted him before pulling out her phone. “What’s your bank card’s daily transfer limit?”

She was asking the Club Leaders.

The vice president stayed silent. The president answered, “I think it’s two hundred thousand.”

“Bank name, card number, account holder’s name.” Ruan Xin was brief and direct.

He quickly provided the details.

Moments later, his phone chimed with a message.

He glanced at the notification.

Incoming transfer: 200,000.

The president: “…”

—

That night, not only was the Japanese restaurant in an uproar, but both the A University Publicity Club and the Dance Academy Publicity Club group chats exploded as well.

Lin Qiuzu lay naked in a cozy, warm bed, scrolling idly through his phone.

From the bathroom came the sound of running water—Li Yan was almost done showering.

After what had happened before, Lin Qiuzu hadn’t left the group chat, but he had stopped participating. He even muted the notifications.

But for some reason, tonight, someone actually @mentioned him.

He tapped into the group chat, and his screen immediately jumped to the first message that tagged him.

[- Yu Yao: @Lin Qiuzu Well, congratulations. You successfully bailed, and someone else ended up sponsoring them with 200,000 instead.]

The sarcastic tone of the message irritated Lin Qiuzu. Frowning, he scrolled down.

And then his hand suddenly froze.

On his screen, a familiar name appeared.

Followed by words that made his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Li Yan!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Mi Zhao got a new boyfriend!”