Leaving the Class Committee Race and Waiting at the Teahouse

Early the next morning, on the way to the economics and management building for the freshmen class meeting, Han Dong's mouth never stopped moving.

The burly man from Northeast China was downright obsessed with the relieved smile Lu Chuan had shown when he closed his laptop the night before.

"Old Lu, come clean with me."

Han Dong leaned over and bumped Lu Chuan with his shoulder.

"Did you hook up with some senior girl last night or not? That's not very loyal of you. The single dogs of Room 504 are still howling to be fed, and you're already dating someone behind our backs on the first day of school?"

Lu Chuan kept walking without so much as glancing at him.

"No."

"I don't believe you." Han Dong looked heartbroken. "I saw that smile of yours. Your heart was all aflutter with love! You must think we're in the way, so you don't want to tell us. I'm warning you now: if you really do start dating someone, you have to treat the whole dorm to a meal."

Lu Chuan finally couldn't resist rolling his eyes. He couldn't be bothered to pay any more attention to this guy's one-man madness.

Chen Ziang, walking on the other side, snickered. He thought Han Dong's loud fussing showed how little he'd seen of the world.

Only Zhao Yifan walked quietly on the outside.

He didn't join in Han Dong's nonsense.

Whatever had made Lu Chuan look so relaxed, it definitely wasn't a campus romance.

By the time they reached the classroom on the third floor of the economics and management building, quite a few people were already seated inside.

A few seniors who had come to help were gathered around the podium. The front rows were packed, buzzing with polite conversation, cautious probing, and people adding one another on WeChat. Everyone was eager to size one another up in this newly formed circle.

Without a second thought, Lu Chuan led the guys from Room 504 straight to the corner by the window in the last row.

They sat down.

He was dressed simply today: a plain short-sleeved shirt, trousers, and understated shoes. He leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed, without the slightest interest in taking another look at the group of girls up front.

The restlessness of freshmen eager to crowd toward the front at the start of university felt too distant and too childish to him.

Soon, their counselor, Teacher Zhou, took the podium, briefly discussed discipline and military training, and went straight into introductions.

Han Dong was the first to liven things up.

He stood by the podium, and his sheer size alone drew a round of laughter from the class.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Han Dong, and I'm from Northeast China."

"My strengths are pretty obvious: I can eat, I can carry heavy stuff, and I've got a good temper. My weaknesses are obvious too: I'm slow at running, and sometimes my brain's half a beat slow. If anyone needs a water jug carried, come find me. I'll absolutely, definitely get the job done."

By the time he finished, the classroom was in stitches, and even the counselor couldn't hold back. Han Dong sauntered back with a smug look on his face.

Chen Ziang went up second.

He was clearly holding back, but he didn't skimp on any of the proper touches. He gave his name, said he was a local, then casually mentioned that his family was in business and that they could help one another with any questions about living locally.

Sure enough, that restrained little hint put something different in the eyes of several girls in the front row.

By the time it was Lu Chuan's turn, everyone was already getting a little tired of listening.

Too many people before him had talked at length, pouring out everything about their talents, hobbies, and plans for the future.

Lu Chuan walked up and stood still.

"Lu Chuan, from the Capital."

"I hope we'll get along."

With that, he put down the microphone, turned, and stepped off the platform.

It had taken less than ten seconds.

The room fell silent at first, then a somewhat stunned round of applause broke out.

With only those few words, there should have been nothing memorable about him.

And yet, when he stood there, he had looked so natural.

Counselor Zhou glanced at him, her gaze lingering much longer than it had on anyone else.

Once the introductions were over, Teacher Zhou moved on to the matter of appointing a provisional class committee.

"Anyone interested can put themselves forward. We'll make adjustments later based on your performance during military training."

The moment she said that, the atmosphere in the first few rows changed.

For finance freshmen, a position like class president meant early access to resources and a natural path toward the student union. Several outgoing boys immediately sat up straighter, and their subtle rivalry came out into the open.

Chen Ziang was tempted too.

He was already accustomed to stepping forward, and he wanted to regain in class the upper hand he had failed to gain in the dorm the day before. He was ready to raise his hand at any moment.

Beside him, however, Lu Chuan didn't even lift an eyelid.

He couldn't muster the slightest interest in this petty contest for power among students.

He laid his phone flat on the desk with its brightness turned down low and gently swiped a finger across it. The screen showed not a chat window, but a live international commodities market chart entirely in English.

Red and green candlesticks crowded the screen, while prices and data constantly flickered.

Lu Chuan watched intently, as though the stir in the classroom over the class presidency belonged to an entirely different world.

Zhao Yifan had no interest in running either and was leaning back in his chair. A sideways glance happened to pass over Lu Chuan's phone screen.

He had assumed Lu Chuan was reading the news.

But that one glance made Zhao Yifan's heart suddenly skip a beat.

An international market screen, entirely in English.

Live commodities market data.

That was definitely not something a freshman would use to put on airs. Every flickering line on it represented a fierce battle fought with real money.

Zhao Yifan withdrew his gaze without looking any longer, but everything was already crystal clear to him.

Up front, those people were still trying to make an impression for the sake of a class president position. Meanwhile, Lu Chuan, right beside him, was keeping an eye on a battlefield of an entirely different magnitude. This wasn't simply a refusal to compete; they were on completely different planes.

By the time the class meeting ended, Chen Ziang had missed out on the class president position because he had been a beat too slow. He looked a little dejected.

The group had barely left the classroom when Han Dong began shouting excitedly.

"We can't waste the afternoon! Internet café, shopping mall, electronics market-take your pick. We've got to kick off university life!"

Chen Ziang chimed in.

"I'll show you around. I know the area."

Han Dong immediately looked at Lu Chuan.

"Old Lu, are you coming?"

Lu Chuan slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up.

"You guys go ahead. I'm meeting someone this afternoon."

Chen Ziang asked casually.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

"No need. It's more convenient for me to go by myself." Lu Chuan refused decisively, offered no further explanation, and turned toward the stairs.

Zhao Yifan watched Lu Chuan's retreating figure, his gaze growing more thoughtful.

"Meeting someone."

He was increasingly certain that the person Lu Chuan was going to meet that afternoon was definitely not some senior girl.

Two fifty in the afternoon.

Ten Leaves Teahouse, South District, Jiangcheng.

It was a world apart from the noisy school.

Wooden latticework, old bamboo blinds, the scent of sandalwood mingling with tea leaves—it was utterly quiet.

In the private room at the very back, Xu Chengyuan had already arrived half an hour early.

He wore a white shirt that had been washed clean and neatly pressed, and his eyes were visibly bloodshot. He was rather thin, and his face showed the exhaustion and intense strain of sleeping poorly for days on end.