After some discussion, the matter of Song Fu taking on a tutoring side job was settled, though the pay still needed negotiation. “I’ll give you one lesson first and see the results. We can talk about the rest later.”
The time was set for Saturday afternoon.
In the following days, Song Fu attended classes as usual, checked the game forums daily to avoid missing plot updates, and calculated how much money she owed the male lead.
She hoped this money, which she would pay back, could offer some comfort to the male lead’s fragile heart about to be hurt.
The System helped with her mental preparation. [Host, based on the male lead’s character setting, he doesn’t care as much as you think about someone he’s only contacted online. Even the warming of feelings with the female lead in the plot happened after an offline meetup.]
Song Fu knew the System’s concern and assured it, ‘I’ll do it.’
From the moment she entered the task Small World, she had received the plotline and knew exactly what she needed to do. ‘I hope the male lead’s enthusiasm isn’t dampened too much.’
Though that was obviously impossible.
Perhaps it was retribution.
The trouble that gave Song Fu a headache came knocking again.
On an ordinary day, after finishing her early eight AM major class, Song Fu was discussing with her roommates which cafeteria to hit for lunch when she had just taken two steps before the class monitor called her over.
Their class monitor had been the same since freshman year, a bright and outgoing girl. “Song Fu, do you have any elective classes next? Our counselor seems to have something to tell you. Her office is on the second floor of Building B, the westernmost room at the end.”
“She’s looking for me?” In that instant, many reasons flashed through Song Fu’s mind, like too many skipped classes or failing last semester—
But neither was it.
When she arrived at the counselor’s office, the young counselor faced her, sighed first, and spoke gently. “You’re Song Fu, right? You… have you not been in contact with your family lately?”
The moment she heard “family,” Song Fu understood. “Teacher, did they call you?”
The counselor nodded. She had received the call at eleven at night, and the other side had been bombarding her nonstop, rambling on and on, which boiled down to two words: money.
This wasn’t her first year as a counselor; she had dealt with nightmare parents before, but those treated their kid like a kindergarten toddler, asking her to watch them drink water and tuck them in… Asking money from a student was a first, and not a small amount. “Your parents said you need to pay back the money they spent raising you all these years.”
The counselor wanted to be tactful but couldn’t. She watched Song Fu’s expression closely and saw no hurt, then probed, “Did you have a fight with your family? Want to talk it out? I heard from your mom that you blacklisted the whole family—is that true?”
“It’s true.” Song Fu admitted directly and apologized for the trouble caused to the counselor. “Teacher, just blacklist them.”
The counselor was very troubled and sighed repeatedly. “Will they affect your studies?” Even from that one call, she could feel how difficult and aggressive the other side was. “How do you plan to handle it?”
“Just ignore them.” Song Fu knew that family was the type that only picked on their own, a household of three who hadn’t even left the province, prone to carsickness too—they could only make trouble over the phone. “I’ll cover my own tuition.”
The plotline’s end point was two years after university graduation; some things were unavoidable. “Teacher, don’t worry.”
Saturday, nice weather.
As the taxi passed the park, she saw plenty of old men fishing, and chubby orange cats stretching lazily in the sun.
The location the boy gave was a flat apartment building across from a high school, with decent security. Song Fu registered briefly at the front gate and went upstairs.
She had messaged ahead, and as soon as the elevator doors opened, she saw the boy in a black hoodie, leaning against the wall and playing on his phone.
The boy had a good personality, but his looks alone gave off a cool, aloof vibe. With his eyes down on his phone, he looked like the type who kept people at arm’s length, but when he lifted his face, he broke into a simple, bright smile, his black eyes sparkling. “You’re here.”
Song Fu really didn’t want to overthink again and cut straight to the point. “Should you do some problems first, or should I start lecturing right away?”
“I’ll do some problems first and ask you about the ones I don’t know.”
The boy opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. “What do you want to eat? We can order something for delivery later.”
They hadn’t even started studying—how was it already mealtime? Song Fu resisted the temptation. “I’m not hungry.”
Entering the room revealed the interior decor: uniform wooden flooring, huge floor-to-ceiling windows, so bright and clean it felt like she wouldn’t know where to put anything. It was like a model unit for promotion. Song Fu blinked. “Do you even live here normally?” No signs of life at all—wasn’t that too much?
The boy tilted his head. “I just like keeping things very clean.”
Lu Yan Zhi made no mention of having specially hired someone for a deep clean.
“I see.” Song Fu didn’t think much of it. She considered herself neat too, but not to this extent—nothing was out of place; everything was exactly where it should be.
Lu Yan Zhi led her to the study area and pushed open the door, calling it the study.
But at a glance, there were hardly any books; instead, she first noticed the TV-like computer screens, several external monitors standing there, with a cabinet opposite holding all sorts of flashy keyboards and mice.
Song Fu sat down. “Then start doing problems?”
“Okay.” Lu Yan Zhi agreed readily.
At first, Song Fu focused intently, watching very seriously, but after twenty minutes with no questions asked, her mind began to wander.
The keyboard right in front of her looked really nice, blue-red tones with a small screen and knobs. The one next to it was good too, with round keycaps, probably matching the mouse above it.
“Beep beep beep.” An urgent phone ring pulled Song Fu’s attention back. She quickly answered, and after a yell came through the receiver, she hurriedly muted it and apologized sheepishly. “Sorry, did I disturb your practice?”
Lu Yan Zhi wasn’t affected. Seeing her answer the call but ignore it, he asked, “Harassment call?”
“Something like that.”
Song Fu answered vaguely.
“From your family?”
Song Fu paused. “How did you know?”
It was indeed a call from the side character’s parents, worse than a harassment call.
After talking with the counselor, she had removed that family from her blacklist—not because she wanted to chat, but to reduce the chance of them harassing unrelated people again. So she answered their calls but kept them on mutual mute, wasting their phone bill in the process.
Would they bill her for the phone fees too?
“Have I told you about my family?” Song Fu didn’t remember.
Lu Yan Zhi propped his chin. “Just a guess.”
Song Fu shrugged. “I thought it sounded more like debt collectors.”
She checked the time—forty minutes had passed. If this were tutoring Cheng Yuan, it would be break time.
But so far, all Song Fu had done was sit there spacing out. “You haven’t asked me a single question. Seems like you don’t really need a tutor.”
Lu Yan Zhi: “…”
Oh, right. “I do have questions I don’t know, I just didn’t ask.”
“Really?” Song Fu didn’t buy it. “Which one?”
Lu Yan Zhi pointed to a particularly difficult problem from memory.
Song Fu’s gaze fell on it, checked against the answer, and she went silent for a full three seconds. “But you got this one right.”
Lu Yan Zhi feigned surprise. “Did I? I guessed. Didn’t expect it to be right.”
Song Fu’s mouth twitched. “…”
She took a deep breath and pointed to another problem on the same page. “These two problems have the exact same principle. You guessed both right?”
Lu Yan Zhi nodded earnestly. “Yes, explain it to me.”
His acting deserved zero points, but his good looks made up for it, making it hard to call him out directly.
Before explaining, Song Fu had a small request. “Can I see your transcript?”
Lu Yan Zhi froze for a moment, trying one last struggle. “I don’t have it saved. Nothing to see.”
Song Fu urged him. “Look for it. I need to know your weak spots.”
So Lu Yan Zhi looked, dragging it out, scrolling through group chat history on his phone for ages. After Song Fu prompted him once more, he finally opened the Excel sheet and handed over the phone. “That test was pretty easy.”
She could tell from that he did well. “Shiyue isn’t ranked first, is it?”
“It’s not Shiyue, it’s Lu—”
The doorbell ding-donged twice at the entryway. Song Fu had just reached out, not even taking the phone yet.
Lu Yan Zhi took his phone back. “I’ll get the door.”
Song Fu stood too and followed to the door. Squeezing in was a flustered boy who immediately wailed upon entry. “Brother Lu, I’m sorry! Brother Lu!”
Song Fu: ?
What was this development?
Lu Yan Zhi looked utterly baffled. “Speak properly.”
Only after his wailing did the friend notice someone else in the room. He took a serious look: the girl had a pretty face, long thick lashes curving slightly at the ends, partially veiling her somewhat indifferent eyes. She met his gaze and gave a polite light smile.
Wasn’t this the pretty sister from the student ID?
So he had interrupted their date? That made it even worse!
Reaching that conclusion, the boy’s face turned ashen.
Lu Yan Zhi asked coolly, “What did you do?”
The boy’s head felt huge. “It’s a long story, but you have to forgive me!”
Song Fu felt like an outsider as a tutor and shouldn’t stick around to listen. Anyway, the boy clearly didn’t really need tutoring. Out of concern for a fellow money-lover? “Then I’ll head out first. See you tomorrow.” She still had Sunday tutoring for the kid.
Lu Yan Zhi: “I’ll walk you out.”
Song Fu waved casually. “No need, chat with your friend.”
Lu Yan Zhi insisted on seeing her to the neighborhood gate, watching her get in the car with regret. “We didn’t even eat together.”
“Next time.” Song Fu smiled.
The taxi pulled away. In the back seat, Song Fu realized belatedly that the boy’s surname was Lu. Makes sense—Shiyue was too rare a surname.
If it was Lu, same as the male lead.
Though the male lead should be a university student like her.
The car rounded the corner and vanished from sight.
Lu Yan Zhi’s face fell. He turned to his friend behind him, brows furrowing slightly. “What exactly did you do?”
Cold sweat dripped from his friend as he stammered incoherently. “Well, didn’t I invite you to our guild meetup before? You didn’t go, so I went alone. Then we played little games, truth or dare and stuff…”