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Chapter 7: Why Are You Still Smiling Secretly?

Jian Li stood at the doorway waiting. Unlike other male dorms that reeked of smoke and sweat, 325 was filled with a faint scent of sandalwood, the balcony windows wide open.

Just like the scent on Zhou Shubei.

Her gaze unconsciously followed him. His bed was by the entrance on the right. A beige desk held a black notebook, and on the left was a group photo.

Five or six people, with Zhou Shubei standing in the center, smiling at the camera. Someone had an arm draped over his shoulder. Their facial features bore a slight resemblance. Next to the photo album was a black hardcover book with a vintage-looking field photo on the cover. The edges were wrinkled and yellowed from oxidation—it had clearly been read many times.

Zhou Shubei handed her his ID card. Jian Li took it and glanced quickly. It was from two years ago. His hair was shorter than it was now, and his eyes looked tired, drooping at the ends—like he’d just been woken for the photo. His thin lips were naturally closed.

Jian Li scanned the ID using the company phone provided by Feng Yutao. Feng made small talk with Zhou Shubei, casually passing him a cigarette. Zhou took it but didn’t light it.

“Word is your finance department beat us computer science guys again yesterday?” Feng Yutao smiled, knowing exactly how to build rapport. “The forums are full of your celebration posts.”

As soon as he said that, the other guys who had been pretending not to notice them chimed in eagerly.

Who doesn’t enjoy bragging about winning? And with Feng also being from the computer science department, he played along enthusiastically, letting them brag to their hearts’ content.

“This your team’s new part-timer?” Song Lang asked, his arm draped over Zhou Shubei’s shoulder, glancing at Jian Li.

Feng Yutao smiled. “Yep, when she’s going around doing dorm sweeps, you guys be nice to her. Recruiting a girl isn’t easy.”

“Don’t worry, she’s the first one to handle Brother Zhou’s business. Anyone who needs a card later will definitely go to her,” a guy with a buzz cut chimed in.

Jian Li had a good memory. After watching Feng’s demo once, she could already do everything. But when she heard that last sentence, the screen seemed to freeze for a moment. She had to tap twice before it finally moved to the next step.

Because everyone else was crowding the doorway, Zhou Shubei stepped slightly forward—closer to her.

Jian Li felt like her senses were amplified. She lifted the phone and aimed it at his handsome face. “Facial scan, please.”

He was much taller than her, so she had to raise her arm at a 45-degree angle to align the camera with his face. A hand with long, distinct joints reached over, took the blue phone from her, switched it to the front-facing camera, and aimed it at himself.

“Please blink.”

The AI voice prompted. Zhou Shubei blinked. Jian Li noticed his eyelashes were long and curled, casting a soft shadow on his eyelids.

“All done.”

She took the phone back with both hands. Even in this angle and lighting, his face didn’t lose its appeal. She lightly rubbed the spot where he had held the phone, as if his warmth still lingered.

Just once—she was afraid if she did more, it’d look weird.

Once everything was done, Jian Li handed him back his ID and SIM card, pulled up a QR code on the phone, and recited the line Feng had taught her: “It’s ready. You’ll be able to use it in two minutes. Please add this WeChat for our campus customer support. You can reach out if you have any questions.”

Zhou Shubei scanned it and successfully added the contact.

“It’s usable now?” he asked.

Jian Li checked the order status on the device and nodded. “Yes, it’s active.”

After confirming nothing was missed, Feng said goodbye to the guys, joking as he left, “Let’s play ball sometime—can’t let us comp sci guys keep losing, right?”

Zhou Shubei glanced at Jian Li, who was focused on her notes. His thin lips curved slightly. “Sure.”

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By around ten, they had finally finished the dorm sweep.

Jian Li had covered two full floors. Her throat felt parched by the end.

As mentioned before, the rush to get campus SIM cards had already passed. With three companies competing, students often had two cards. In the whole evening, only one card was sold—to Zhou Shubei.

“Great job, everyone. Go back and rest. No more dorm sweeps tomorrow—take a few days off,” Feng said, handing out water and giving a few more instructions before they all dispersed.

After hours on her feet, Jian Li sat on her bed after showering, massaging her calves to relax.

Her phone buzzed.

Feng Yutao had transferred her the commission.

During the marketing period for new students, commissions were paid daily. Since Feng was her direct lead, he skipped the team leader’s cut and sent her the full 90 yuan.

[You’re sharp and a fast learner. Keep it up—I believe you’ll be able to handle things on your own soon.]

Jian Li thanked him and accepted the payment.

Tan Xueying knocked on the bed rail between them. After hearing a reply, she pulled back the curtain and peeked in.

“So? Did you get any sales?” she asked.

“One,” Jian Li replied.

“That’s great.” Tan continued, “By the way, my brother said one of his partners has a relative looking for a tutor. Not far from school—direct subway. Interested?”

Jian Li paused her massage. “What grade?”

“First year of middle school. The parents are busy and can’t help, mainly need someone for math and writing.” Tan Xueying pulled up the chat on her phone and showed Jian Li. “It’s a little girl, pretty introverted, so they want a female tutor—they’d feel more at ease.”

Jian Li recalled a recent news story and understood their concern.

“Only on weekends. Two classes a day. Holidays based on availability,” Tan added. “They pay daily, and it won’t interfere with school or your part-time on the campus net. Business is slow anyway.”

Jian Li looked at her and realized Tan had asked on her behalf. She smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

Tan waved it off. “It’s nothing. We’re friends—helping out is normal.”

Friends.

A hint of emotion flickered in Jian Li’s eyes.

Before Tan used the word “friend,” Jian Li had only seen them as ordinary roommates—just acquaintances who shared a dorm.

She wasn’t good at navigating relationships like this, so she simply smiled and thanked her again.

Tan sent her the mother’s WeChat. The mother’s surname was Liu, so Jian Li addressed her as Sister Liu. Liu had already been told about Jian Li, sent her the address and contact info, and said she could come after military training for a trial.

Jian Li agreed and checked her calendar to confirm the date.

Good news kept coming, easing some of her financial pressure. The next day, she treated her roommates to a meal with her SIM card commission to return the favor from when they treated her.

The others didn’t refuse but, understanding her situation, only ordered two simple meat dishes and one vegetable.

They chatted about the morning’s military training while eating.

Jian Li ate quietly and quickly, but laughed along at the funny parts of their stories.

Just as they were finishing, Qing Wen suddenly motioned excitedly toward the entrance. “Look! Zhou Shubei!”

“Lucky day! I’m buying a lottery ticket later—I must be on a winning streak. Who’s in?”

Chu Yue and Tan Xueying both raised their hands. “Me.”

Jian Li laughed at their eager response like they were answering a class question. Just as she was about to look up, a shadow fell over her—Song Lang.

“Hey, isn’t this the junior who helped Brother Zhou with his SIM card?” he said, eyeing the seat beside her. He smiled. “Mind if we join you?”

“Not at all,” Qing Wen said quickly, shifting inward with her tray. Chu Yue followed.

“Thanks.” Song Lang plopped down and set a soda in front of Jian Li, waving behind her. “Zhou, over here.”

His tray sat just a few centimeters from hers. Jian Li grew stiff, but fortunately, she had finished eating and now just sipped tomato-egg soup.

She couldn’t help sneaking glances at him.

Zhou Shubei’s left hand rested on the table, and his right hand—holding chopsticks—was exposed at the wrist due to his sleeve sliding down. There was a fresh wound, not yet scabbed over.

“We haven’t introduced ourselves—I’m Song Lang, third-year Finance,” he said, initiating conversation. “This is Zhou Shubei. You probably know him—he’s famous on the forums.”

Qing Wen chimed in. “Yeah, we’ve seen him before.”

Song Lang’s interest was piqued. He glanced at Jian Li, who was still quietly sipping soup. “When was that?”

The others took turns telling the story. Song Lang whistled. “So Zhou played the hero, huh?” Then he added, “By the way, who did you give Professor Zhao’s WeChat to?”

Professor Zhao was their young economics professor, known for his casual manner.

Tan Xueying looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Someone added him on WeChat to ask questions but ended up asking about his personal life and even invited him to lunch. He called Zhou at midnight and cursed him out,” Song Lang explained.

Zhou Shubei chuckled. “Old Zhao’s got more charm than I do.”

“Yeah, but that person wasn’t really asking about economics.”

Jian Li thought of the girl who’d asked for Zhou’s WeChat that day—so he’d given her someone else’s.

Looked like the weather had cleared.

She couldn’t help but smile.

Suddenly, Zhou Shubei looked over. She didn’t have time to hide it—caught red-handed.

He leaned back lazily, fingers drumming the soda bottle. His tone was casual. “Hey, classmate. Why are you smiling secretly?”

Jian Li choked. A piece of tomato skin stuck in her throat, making her eyes water.

She heard Song Lang say, “She’s just polite—didn’t want to laugh too obviously.” Then to her, “Don’t mind him. He acts unserious, but he’s reliable when it counts.”

Jian Li couldn’t stop coughing. An unopened soda was pushed in front of her. She looked up—and into a pair of deep, ink-black eyes.

Still and quiet, like a dark pool.

“She doesn’t drink that,” Tan Xueying said, handing over her bottled water and patting Jian Li’s back. “Here, drink this.”

Jian Li thanked her and took several quick gulps. Her throat finally eased.

Zhou Shubei watched her drink half the bottle. Even with glasses, her flushed eyes were clearly visible.

Very pretty eyes.

That was his first thought.