The school was close to the Commercial District, and before Xia Fu could fully process everything, the car had already arrived at their destination.

The building standing before her felt both familiar and foreign.

S City had plenty of these old red-bricked houses with black-framed windows, emanating a historical charm. In summer, the eaves would be draped with cascades of pink camellias, giving off a vibrant, lively vibe. Passersby often stopped to take photos, and Xia Fu, on her way to part-time jobs, had passed by it countless times.

But the side facing the street was always shut tight, with doors and windows closed, so Xia Fu had assumed it was part of S City’s historical preservation, not open to the general public. It wasn’t until today that she realized this was actually a private members-only restaurant. There was a lovely little door nestled within a secluded stone alley, welcoming guests into a reception area decorated like a foreign garden.

Once she passed through the villa’s main door, it felt like she’d entered another world.

The polished mahogany floors gleamed, oil paintings hung on the soft yellow wallpaper, and thick, velvet drapes with intricate patterns framed the windows. Following a neatly dressed waiter through the long corridor, Xia Fu almost felt as if she’d traveled back in time, expecting to swap her clothes for a qipao and head to a grand ballroom to dance.

Though she’d never seen dishes like these, the flavors were absolutely amazing. A deep blue soup bowl held fish paste shaped into lotus pods, soft, smooth, and delicately flavored. The “lotus seeds,” made from green peas, were both tender and sticky, giving a delightful chew.

Fang Jingcheng, knowing about Xia Fu’s sensitive stomach, had even ordered porridge for her. It looked like a plain bowl of white porridge, but upon tasting it, she found it had soy milk, yam, and lily bulbs mixed in. It was creamy with a faint sweetness unique to plants. The server had even mentioned that it was a favorite dessert of a presidential wife.

Each dish came with its own story and was prepared with special techniques.

Even the decorative tofu, delicate and impractical, held a subtle almond fragrance that seemed to melt on the tongue, slipping down into her stomach.

Everything tasted so good. Everything!

Her once-empty stomach was now being lovingly pampered, and Xia Fu wolfed down each bite, feeling like a little mouse sneaking into an imperial kitchen, eyes tearing up with a “nothing left to regret” sort of joy.

Unlike Xia Fu, who looked like she was in heaven, Fang Jingcheng remained composed.

He moved his chopsticks a couple of times, but most of the time, he simply rested his chin in his hand, watching Xia Fu intently with lowered eyes.

“Is it to your liking?” he asked, his lake-blue eyes holding a spark of innocence, more like a child feeding pigeons than a man admiring a woman.

But all Xia Fu could reply with was a limited “tasty,” “really tasty.” She tried her best to express herself, stretching her imagination as much as she could: “It’s like cream, melting on my tongue.”

“Once it’s in my stomach, it feels all warm, like I’m basking in the sun.”

This made Xia Fu feel slightly embarrassed.

Enjoying things alone was something she wasn’t used to.

In her family, there were many rules. They waited for their father to sit before they ate, and her little brother always took the first bite.

The more joy she felt, the more guilty she felt. Xia Fu glanced at Fang Jingcheng, hesitating before asking, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Hm?”

The young man maintained his pose with his face resting in his hand. His blue eyes curved into crescent moons, unfazed by her childlike comments.

“I’ve already had dinner, so I’m not really hungry. Plus, with my fitness regimen, I can’t eat too much.”

In his eyes, Xia Fu might not have been conventionally beautiful, but her eyes were lovely. They tilted up slightly like a cat’s, with pupils dark and shiny, like polished obsidian, twinkling when she was deep in thought.

And especially the expression she wore when she loved the food—her eyes shining, on the verge of tears.

…How interesting. Without realizing it, he’d found himself staring at her.

But, truthfully, being watched while eating could feel a bit awkward.

Realizing this, Fang Jingcheng lowered his gaze, quietly saying, “Good. Seeing how much you’re enjoying it, I’m starting to feel a little hungry too.” He picked up his chopsticks as if to add food to his bowl, but then pointed to the chair beside Xia Fu, smoothly changing the topic, “Careful, your bag is about to slip off.”

When Xia Fu had gotten out of the car, she’d brought her backpack with her.

It seemed to contain something important, as she kept it close to her side even while eating.

Hearing the reminder, she jolted, hurriedly pulling her bag onto her lap.

Fang Jingcheng completed his act smoothly.

He put his chopsticks back down without taking a bite and turned to her with casual curiosity:

“What’s in there? A laptop? It looks a bit heavier than usual.”

Xia Fu’s backpack was heavier than Fang Jingcheng had expected. The contents pressed firmly against the fabric, creating four sharp corners—he figured it must be a laptop.

“Yes.”

Carefully setting her backpack straight, Xia Fu added, “There’s a mathematical modeling competition over the summer, and right now, we’re still in the registration phase. The prize money’s quite a lot, so I thought I’d give it a try. I specifically bought a gaming laptop just to run the programs.”

“It’s heavy, right? Sorry for making you carry it all this time.”

She glanced up at Fang Jingcheng, quick as a flash, with a look of guilt and unease.

The bag was the most expensive thing Xia Fu owned.

It was actually a brand name, a mountaineering backpack that her younger brother, Xia Changqing, got as a freebie with a jacket purchase. As outdoor gear, it was waterproof and lightweight.

And the “mechanical beast” inside was worth a year of her tuition, weighed a good five pounds, and roared like thunder whenever it processed code, bringing her results in record time.

She loved it dearly—it was her most important partner in her academic journey.

She’d made Fang Jingcheng carry it for the whole trip, including up and down stairs.

“This isn’t too heavy.”

Fang Jingcheng waved it off casually, not bothered by the minor inconvenience.

“But, a math modeling competition…” He repeated the words, his handsome face showing a look that was almost sadder than heartbreak.

“That competition is supposed to be pretty prestigious. Isn’t there a ‘Mentorship Program’ these past few years? Starting in the second year, the top few students in each class can apply to a PhD mentor, gaining early entry into the labs. If you win gold, I think you can choose a vice dean. My family’s been pushing me about it. So troublesome…”

He looked like a carefree playboy, yet he knew far more about the school’s development programs than diligent Xia Fu did.

Was it because he was a student in the elite program?

Finally, Xia Fu lifted her head from her focus on the floor. Looking at Fang Jingcheng, she was full of surprise. “You’re going to participate in the math modeling competition, too?”

The girl who had been avoiding his gaze all along finally responded, and Fang Jingcheng perked up instantly. He returned her surprise with a bright smile, “Why not?”

“You look… I thought you were an arts student.”

Fang Jingcheng looked into her clear eyes, stretching out his words. “Eh? What kind of arts student?”

This was tricky. Xia Fu, seriously lacking in entertainment exposure, racked her brain and pulled a random major from her vocabulary: “Oil painting, maybe.”

He looked like the type who’d paint on other people.

Fang Jingcheng glanced down at his own arm, a faint smile at his lips. “Oh, you caught me. But honestly, I prefer photography, capturing the moment without any bias.”

He loved discovering beauty.

Out of “respect,” his feelings came and went easily, mutual and free of arguments aimed at changing the other person’s mind—no clinging, no strings attached.

“This semester, I even sat in on a few classes at the Literature College, but since I got turned down tonight, I guess I don’t need to go back.”

“Now, just like you, I’m a science student, specifically in finance and management. Starting next week, we might even be in the same foundational classes. I’ll be counting on you then.”

“Sure.”

Xia Fu nodded obediently and exchanged contact info with Fang Jingcheng, but her mind was wandering miles away. Another thing she couldn’t understand! Was transferring this easy? It was almost the end of the semester, so how did he manage to get all his required credits while skipping class and flirting…?

Maybe, like this meal, this was just another lesson: the world of the wealthy was different.

Xia Fu pondered this, and it wasn’t until she was back in the car and saw that familiar little charm hanging that she suddenly realized.

She looked down, waking her phone screen, scrolling past Fang Jingcheng’s profile picture, and casually asked:

“This charm is cute. What animal is it?”

The car door closed, and the plush charm swung with the vibrations. Fang Jingcheng turned the key, thinking for a moment before replying:

“Hmm—I’m not really sure. A friend of mine, who’s in jewelry design, made it for me over the summer. She said it’s a unique, one-of-a-kind fantasy creature. I thought it was interesting, so I hung it here.”

“So? Do you like it?”

“It’s really unique.”

One of a kind…

Xia Fu looked at her chat history from a week ago and was finally certain of Fang Jingcheng’s identity.

When she was younger, Xia Fu’s health had been poor, leaving her unable to handle physical work, so her part-time jobs were usually brain-based. To pay off her debts, Xia Fu would occasionally take on essay-writing jobs.

And one of her biggest clients had a profile picture featuring this exact cute charm.

So, the person who’d given Fang Jingcheng the chance to change majors was none other than Xia Fu herself. Before they even knew each other, she had already “taken care” of him.

If they would be attending classes together, maybe she could tailor her services to Fang Jingcheng’s schedule and make a little extra.

Xia Fu needed money. Out of necessity, she’d never reveal her ghostwriting identity.

Nothing in this world was free.

But Fang Jingcheng had treated her to a nice meal… After hesitating, Xia Fu softly suggested:

“Thank you for dinner tonight… I have pretty good grades and a lot of notes, so maybe we could study together.”

Her essays had helped Fang Jingcheng get past the major review, but this was just the beginning—there’d be more challenges ahead.

F University’s finals were notorious. Even group projects required that Fang Jingcheng learn a thing or two to handle the teacher’s questions.

Fang Jingcheng glanced at Xia Fu, smiling as he commented:

“Wow, a special tutoring session with the class genius? Thanks, I’ll hold you to that.”

The car’s GPS screen cast a blue glow onto his face, his dazzling smile not quite reaching his eyes, giving it a slightly detached look.

Xia Fu wasn’t sure if Fang Jingcheng took it seriously.

Feeling a bit let down, she lowered her head, turning her gaze out to the night view. When the car reached a familiar area, Xia Fu spoke up:

“Stop here; I think I ate too much and want to walk for a bit.”

“Here?”

Fang Jingcheng checked the GPS instinctively. It was a fifteen-minute walk to campus, and right beside a pedestrian street known for its safe nightlife.

Driving her to her dorm this late might draw too much attention.

After thinking it over, Fang Jingcheng pulled over, reminding her, “Alright, then. Send me a message when you get back to the dorm, just to let me know you’re safe.”

Xia Fu watched his car disappear, then messaged Fang Jingcheng and quietly headed back toward the Commercial Street.

She unwrapped the flowers, skillfully separating and decorating the blue roses to make smaller, beautiful bouquets, and then began calling out:

“520 Romantic Night! Buy a rose for someone special!”

“Last few roses, now at a special discount for the lucky ones!”

The night lights glowed, the traffic roared, and the city was alive.

Just like in the song, even close to midnight, this sleepless city was bustling. Stylish urbanites were coming out of bars, ready for the next stop, and Fang Jingcheng’s high-quality roses were indeed a hit.

In just under an hour, Xia Fu had sold out that bouquet of roses. She found a bench and sat down, checking her bookkeeping app to figure out how to allocate the money. But her thoughts drifted uncontrollably to Fang Jingcheng’s silhouette as he paid the bill.

Even though it was a four-digit bill, Fang Jingcheng handled it so casually, as if he were just buying a bottle of water at a supermarket.

Having money really made things easier.

The average salary for an F University graduate was around 6000. After covering living expenses, she’d probably have to save up for three years before she’d be able to treat herself to a “budget version” of the meal Fang Jingcheng had so effortlessly paid for on her birthday.

And yet, even that thought filled her with contentment.

Xia Fu hugged her treasured backpack, resting her chin on it as she watched the endless flow of people passing by. She imagined, someday, being able to have a home of her own, where she could finally set down this heavy bag. She’d put on a light, fluttery dress and stroll casually in the night breeze, just like everyone else around her.

Just a little longer, don’t give up.

One day, she’d “grow up.”

She hid herself in a quiet corner of the city, like a seed wedged in the cracks of bricks, dreaming of blooming one day in the deep darkness of night.