Rice had to be eaten one bite at a time; similarly, problems had to be solved one by one.
Before any rumors spread on the forums, there was no room for action on the main storyline, so Song Fu focused more on reality. The top priority to resolve was thus: cut off that pretty but untimely peach blossom.
Another tutoring session came, and as expected, Song Fu saw the youth again. After they exchanged greetings, a bowl of mango pudding was stuffed into her hands.
The pudding looked appealing, a milky yellow overall with visible mango chunks and darker caramel on top. Song Fu stared at it for a few seconds, then lifted her gaze, meeting the handsome youth’s eyes.
The youth did not look away, just watched her like that. “Or do you prefer cake?”
Song Fu shook her head right away. “It’s just that it’s too much trouble for you.” At first, she had not thought much of it, assuming she was just tagging along, but now it seemed otherwise. After all, Cheng Yuan, the little brother, showed little interest in the pudding, and she had been the first to receive it.
Her roommates’ adamant words inevitably echoed in Song Fu’s mind again: Even thinking with your toes, you know he must be into you.
Was this reasonable?
Song Fu was not one to belittle herself, but she still found it unbelievable. One could say the youth lacked familial affection, but from the perspective of being loved by others, that face alone meant he had suitors by the basketful. How could it be—
She had not been pursued by many people in real life either.
[Isn’t it possible that it’s because the host is too aloof and distant with people, so they don’t dare? And you even have a fiancé early on.] The System silently explained the truth.
“Looks good?” The youth teased.
Song Fu snapped back to reality, realizing she had stared at his face too long. She gave an awkward smile and called Cheng Yuan over. “Rest time is about up. Shall we continue studying?”
The kid nodded reluctantly.
Tutoring ended, and they left together again. Originally, Song Fu and the youth’s relationship had been cordial enough that silence did not breed awkwardness, but now, with the thought that he might like her, Song Fu reverted to her initial state of sitting on pins and needles.
It was only a possibility, and she certainly could not address it outright, so Song Fu organized her words for half the day before finally blurting out, “You must be pretty popular at school, right?”
“Not bad. Why?” The youth did not feign modesty.
Song Fu asked again, “Have you dated anyone?”
Without waiting for a reply, she launched into a story in one breath. “Back in high school, there was a couple in my class. They were really close, but their grades differed a lot, so they did not go to the same university. In the end, they broke up for various reasons. If you date someone, you should consider it more when applying for universities. Long-distance relationships are hard to maintain.”
“Our school cracks down hard on puppy love, Sister.” That answered the initial question.
The youth’s throat had long since healed, less hoarse than before, his tone lazy and drawling.
He propped his head on his arm, nonchalant. “I’ve already decided which university to attend.”
Song Fu let out an “oh” without any intent to probe further.
But the youth continued on his own. “It’s the university you’re at, Sister.”
Song Fu had a premonition it would be this answer. She tugged her lips into a smile, turning into a recruitment ambassador. “Our school is pretty great. Good dorms, tasty cafeteria.” It was still a top-tier university, the dream of countless people. “Looks like your grades are good?”
“Decent enough.”
This time, the youth got off the bus with Song Fu again.
“Sister, mind showing me around?” His tone was a request.
Song Fu had eaten so much from him after all, and she truly had nothing else to do, so she agreed.
Their university campus was quite large; it took at least half an hour to walk from the dorms to the academic buildings, so there were plenty of electric scooters around. Song Fu hesitated about scanning a shared bike, but the youth refused, saying strolling slowly was more fun.
As someone whose real life was unsatisfying, the side character threw her all into the game and paid little attention to campus life, so Song Fu only knew the straight line from dorms-cafeteria-academic buildings. Leading the way cleared up more for her. “If you play basketball, you can go to the Activity Center. It has ping-pong tables and such inside.”
“The East Canteen second floor has more variety than other cafeterias, but the rice noodles and wontons are not that good. The one next to the Activity Center we just passed is better.”
Song Fu was enthusiastic.
A few sentences pieced together a rough trajectory and preferences. Lu Yan Zhi’s lips curved up along with hers. “Any good spots for dates?”
Song Fu’s raised finger stiffened, her lips parting slightly. “Ah?”
Lu Yan Zhi’s smile did not fade, his phoenix eyes curving. “Universities allow dating, right? No good date spots?”
Song Fu racked her brains. “Does under the girls’ dorm count?” It was where she saw the most little couples, especially at night. Couples ending dates would linger reluctantly at the dorm entrance. Even in summer with the most mosquitoes, they could persist for ten or twenty minutes. “Or if you want, just sitting in the stadium bleachers is pretty fun.”
Lu Yan Zhi smiled ambiguously. “Who have you sat there with?”
His tone was odd. Song Fu glanced at him and answered honestly. “My roommate, and her boyfriend.” Strictly speaking, he had been an ambiguous interest back then.
Those two had just started dating. She had been dragged by her shy roommate to play third wheel for an afternoon, unable to get a word in, so she stared at the tiny figures on the field in a daze, betting with herself who ran faster.
“No boyfriend to sit with you?” It sounded casual.
But Song Fu mustered all her focus to reply. “I do. I have a boyfriend.”
Lu Yan Zhi’s stepping foot retracted. The curve of his lips vanished. “You do?”
Song Fu nodded firmly. “Yeah! It’s normal for me to have a boyfriend, right?”
Even if the youth truly liked her, he should back off once he knew she had a boyfriend. And to thoroughly nip it in the bud, her relationship with the boyfriend had to seem good. Having figured this out, Song Fu started showing off their affection. “My boyfriend and I met in the game. He’s especially good to me.”
A faint, hard-to-detect smile floated on Lu Yan Zhi’s lips. “How good?”
Completely fabricating lies was prone to holes; half-truths were harder to debunk. As Song Fu spoke of the male lead’s virtues, it felt especially genuine. “He buys me tons of stuff. As long as I ask, he pretty much gives it. When I fought with my family, he worried about me. If someone trash-talked me in the game, he’d teach them a lesson. Even if I threw a tantrum, he wouldn’t get mad…”
Her voice grew smaller, matching her increasingly guilty conscience.
“He’s a really good guy.”
Song Fu nodded, agreeing. “Very good.”
Lu Yan Zhi’s lip curve deepened. “Then cherish him well.”
This time, Song Fu did not respond directly. Instead, she looked up, puzzled. “I thought you’d say something like ‘online people are all scammers.'” Her roommates nagged it so much her ears had calluses.
Honestly, without knowing the plot in advance, she would have thought it unreliable herself.
Young people might just be more accepting. Song Fu rallied her spirits. “Anyway, just know I have an awesome boyfriend.”
She watched the expression on the face before her. She saw no gloom or sadness on that exquisite face—instead, he even seemed pretty happy.
Was he thinking it childish?
Fine, that line just now was pretty embarrassing, Song Fu realized belatedly.
“You like him that much?” The youth’s response was neither the dejection of a secret admirer nor teasing banter from a friend.
“Mm.” Song Fu took in his reaction and nodded emphatically.
Her earnest look was so cute that Lu Yan Zhi could not help but chuckle.
Hearing it, Song Fu’s eyes widened a circle in disbelief. “You’re laughing at me.”
She must have overthought it, right? But mocking her was too much. What, never seen a lovestruck fool before?
Lu Yan Zhi was glared at fiercely and cleared his throat lightly. “Not at you. Don’t be mad.” He forcibly changed the subject. “I’m a bit hungry. How about a spin through the cafeteria?”
It was not mealtime, so the cafeteria was not crowded, no need to queue.
A white paper was posted at Song Fu’s usual window, advertising a work-study position. She asked more and learned the previous boy handling payments had gone home to get married. The auntie enthusiastically asked if Song Fu wanted to try for a couple days—just accounting and collecting money, not tiring.
It really was not tiring. Song Fu was tempted but declined due to her heavy class schedule.
Sitting together to eat, Lu Yan Zhi asked her, “You short on cash?”
Song Fu shook her head, swallowed her potato, and corrected him. “I like money. Who complains about having too much?”
“Didn’t you say your boyfriend gives you everything?” Lu Yan Zhi all but spelled it out. “Just ask him for it.”
Song Fu sighed. “It’s still not quite the same.”
The money from the male lead was almost due to be returned. Money she earned herself spent without worry.
Plus, she had already offended the side character’s whole family. No more money from home after that. Tuition and living expenses would all be on her, then she’d get scammed once more, ending up penniless…
The System said being penniless did not require her to look too miserable—just have no money on her. Song Fu did not quite get the difference. Without money, how could she not look miserable?
“Want to take on an extra part-time gig?”
Lu Yan Zhi suggested thoughtfully. “How about tutoring me? You name the pay.”
The words of a rich and generous sucker. Song Fu almost thought she was facing the male lead. Two such generous people in the world stunned her. “Careful, I might ask for the moon.”
“Go ahead.”
Song Fu set down her chopsticks. “Didn’t you say your grades are decent? No need for tutoring.”
Lu Yan Zhi gave his reason. “Last semester, I missed school for some reasons and fell behind on a lot.”
“Really?” Song Fu advised finding someone more reliable. “I can teach elementary kids fine, but for senior year, I’ve forgotten most of it. With your money, hire a famous tutor…”
“One thousand per hour. How’s that?” Lu Yan Zhi quoted a possibly acceptable price.
From her money-loving persona, Song Fu felt pinned down, her expression complicated. “Is money spent like that?”