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Chapter 13: Leading a Good Student Astray

The car stopped.

Jian Li pulled herself out of her thoughts and said, “Thank you,” slung on her backpack, and got off.

The dorm was quiet, with only Tan Xueying around. Chu Yue and Qing Wen had gone home. Tan Xueying had just gotten up and was brushing her teeth. “You’re back! How was the interview?”

Jian Li placed her backpack on the seat. “It went well, thank you.” Not taking others’ help for granted, she added, “Sister Liu paid me a month’s salary in advance. Let me treat you to lunch.”

Tan Xueying agreed instantly. “Sure! I’ve been craving the big plate chicken from that place by the gate. Couldn’t find anyone to go with me.”

The ground was wet from the rain, so Xueying’s bike was useless—they had to walk.

“I really need to get an e-scooter. Rainy days are such a pain,” she said. “Let’s go look at some later.”

Since the school library would be packed in the afternoon, Jian Li planned to go to the city library, and since it was on the way, she agreed.

Tan Xueying didn’t overthink shopping—she went straight for the well-known brand, picked out a blue e-scooter, and took it for a test ride in the store.

“This model is perfect for girls—right size, right color. And this one’s the last in stock,” the salesperson said. “Just a couple of days ago, another college guy bought this exact model for his girlfriend. She loved it.”

Jian Li was used to those sales pitches—“last one,” “bestseller”—it’s always the same. Whichever one you pick is always the best, the most popular, and nearly sold out.

In the class group chat, the professor tagged everyone, asking who wanted to join the lab. Those interested could team up in groups of three to four.

Most students in the robotics program entered labs in their second year. First year was heavy on theory and already intense with coursework, but waiting until second year meant falling behind.

Nobody wanted that, so Jian Li signed up. Now she had to decide who to team up with.

Her class was all guys except her, and they were actively inviting each other in the chat.

“No one invited Jian Li?” someone asked. “She’s the only girl in our class.”

“We already made our team. You go with her. That lab work is rough—I doubt she can handle it. I don’t want to be stuck coaxing her through a meltdown while we’re trying to work,” someone said in a voice message, full of disdain, as if already imagining her crying in a corner, dragging the team down.

That message was quickly buried by others, but Jian Li’s face remained calm. Just as she was about to leave the chat, a new message popped up:

[Wanna team up? Me, you, and Qian Hao. Three of us.]

It was from the class rep, Chen Runzhe. Qian Hao was his close friend—tan-skinned and from a high-altitude region. Jian Li had a good impression of them but didn’t agree right away.

[We complete the project as a team—no complaining, no slacking, no quitting halfway, and no spreading negative energy. We solve problems together.]
She preferred setting expectations clearly from the start to avoid delays later.

Chen replied quickly: [Of course.]

Jian Li took a screenshot. [Alright.]

After buying the e-scooter, Xueying gave her a ride. “The library must be packed by now. Maybe weekdays are better, but weekends are always full of middle and high schoolers.”

Jian Li brushed hair out of her face. “Then let’s go back.”

“Back? Nah, I know a great place to study.” Xueying honked the horn and turned right at the intersection. “Nice environment, fast WiFi… and eye candy.”

“…?”

Ten minutes later, their scooter stopped in front of a café.

It was more like a blend of bookstore and café. The decor was elegant and peaceful. The first floor was full, each person quietly immersed in their own work. In the center, a guy in formal attire played the violin—calm and soothing.

Xueying whispered, “That’s just the appetizer. The real eye candy is the owner.”

Jian Li wasn’t that interested but asked, “Really?”

“Yep. He’s just as hot as Zhou Shubei. But he doesn’t show up often—I’ve only seen him once.”

Upstairs was more spacious. Jian Li found a window seat and ordered warm water. Xueying got a bubble tea.

“Here are your drinks.”

Xueying accepted hers and asked, “Is your boss here today?”

The server smiled. “No, he’s out of town.”

“Oh,” Xueying sighed. “Thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome. Just press the call button if you need anything.”

“What a shame,” Xueying said, her mood dropping, even the bubble tea didn’t taste as good. “I was hoping to get his WeChat. Guess hot guys and I just aren’t meant to be.”

“It’s not fate, just timing. Maybe next time.”

“You’re right.” She took a big sip, stretched. “Even this bubble tea tastes sweeter now.”

Jian Li chuckled and connected to the café WiFi.

The lab team group chat was set up. Chen Runzhe shared his number for easy contact. Jian Li sent hers and saved both their contacts, then turned off the WiFi, plugged in her headphones, and started on physics homework.

After coming to Beicheng, Jian Li truly felt the difference in educational standards. She’d been top of the class back in Xiyuan, but here at elite Beicheng University, she had to work twice as hard to avoid falling behind.

Physics was her weakest subject.

The soft rain tapped the windows. Jian Li focused intensely, copying questions from online instead of printing them, solving them by hand, then checking the answers. Time passed unknowingly. The water in her glass had long gone cold.

She stretched her stiff neck and glanced outside—and froze.

Across the street, Zhou Shubei exited a club. Next to him was a man who looked somewhat like him. Zhou had one hand in his pocket, his usual casual demeanor. The other man said something; Zhou smirked and lit a cigarette.

An assistant held an umbrella for Zhou Yangzhi, who frowned and scolded the assistant, “Only one umbrella? Give it to the young master.”

“Sorry, Mr. Zhou. My mistake.” The assistant tried to grab another, but hesitated with what to do with the one he held.

Zhou Shubei took a drag, glanced at the assistant, and said, “No need.”

“My assistant’s new—he doesn’t know any better.” Zhou Yangzhi smiled insincerely. “It’s the weekend. Let’s have dinner at home. It’s been a while since the whole family sat down together. Dad mentioned it yesterday.”

Zhou Shubei gave a cold smirk. “Really? Your little family reunion act doesn’t need me.”

“Come on, we’re family.” Zhou Yangzhi feigned offense, then sighed. “I know you’re still bitter about what happened to Grandma, but we really did all we could.”

At those words, Zhou Shubei grabbed his collar. “Say another word, I dare you.”

Zhou Yangzhi remained calm, still smiling. “Still so impulsive? I thought you’d have matured by now.”

A camera flash flickered nearby. Zhou Shubei looked close to snapping, but held back. “All these years and your tricks haven’t improved.”

He let go of Yangzhi.

Yangzhi straightened his wrinkled collar. “Doesn’t matter if they’re new, as long as they work.”

He adjusted his tie, flashing a limited-edition watch. He looked at Zhou Shubei and laughed—he loved seeing Zhou hate him but be powerless to fight back. Just a loser always under his thumb.

“Feeling indignant?” He pulled out a card from his blazer and shoved it into Zhou’s hand. “Yeah, I hit him. So what? Who’s gonna stand up for you—Dad? The cops?”

He lowered his voice, full of condescension and amusement. “You’ll never touch a cent of the Zhou family’s money.”

After enjoying Zhou’s reaction, he buttoned his coat and resumed his kindly-big-brother act. “Come home sometime. Dad misses you.”

Rain fell gently as the car disappeared into the distance. The anger and frustration in Zhou’s eyes slowly faded. He stared at the card in his hand.

His phone buzzed twice.

Zhou Yangzhi had messaged the password: [There’s 200,000 in there. Consider it an apology from your big brother.]

Zhou Shubei scoffed. His fingers curled, and the card disappeared into his palm. He replied:

[Don’t need it.]

He sent the message and didn’t bother checking the reply. Just as he was about to pocket his phone, the rain over his head stopped.

He turned around. Jian Li was holding out an umbrella.

The umbrella had a bank logo on it, and the flimsy thing seemed ready to collapse in the wind—just like the girl holding it: so slim she looked like a breeze could blow her over.

Zhou raised a brow. His tone was unreadable. “What are you doing here?”

“It started raining.” Jian Li tilted the umbrella slightly and pointed to the window across the street. “I was studying over there. Came out to buy something and saw you.”

Her voice was calm, and her clear eyes looked like still water. Zhou glanced at the notebook in her hand.

He lowered his gaze. “Finished studying?”

Jian Li wasn’t sure why he asked, but answered honestly, “Yeah.”

He nodded, looked around, then asked, “Do you play games?”

“No.” She paused, sensing his mood, then added, “But I can learn.”

Zhou raised an eyebrow, tongue pressing against his cheek, then leaned down slightly, voice lazy:

“Why do I feel like I’m leading a good student astray, Miss Jian?”

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