Chapter Twenty-Two: A Monthly Salary of Thirty Thousand, and You Think You Can Woo My Girlfriend?

Without another word, Yang Xiaofan took Qin Nuanyu by the hand and pulled her straight into the plaza. In his memory, this was the first time the two of them had ever held hands. Qin Nuanyu, blushing and head lowered, followed behind him like a bashful young bride—so adorable it was almost unbearable.

Yang Xiaofan, on the other hand, felt a surge of contentment. The class monitor’s hand was so soft—far softer than his own. If it weren’t primarily for eating, he thought, her hands would surely be better than his at everything. Maybe he ought to speed up his pursuit a little. As the ancients said, when you discover a fertile field, you must be the first to cultivate it—and best to sow the seeds as well, to ensure nothing goes awry.

Upon entering the shopping mall, they found themselves at the prime location: Louis Vuitton bags to the left, Cartier to the right. Yang Xiaofan led Qin Nuanyu to the Cartier counter first, intending to buy her some jewelry. A woman—especially a beautiful one—ought to be adorned and cherished; only then could her allure be truly set off.

“Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?” A professional sales consultant, dressed in high heels and sheer black stockings, approached them with a friendly smile. In high-end luxury boutiques like this, the staff were always highly professional—there was not the slightest hint of displeasure or disdain at Yang Xiaofan’s bargain-bin attire.

“I’d like to look at some jewelry for my girlfriend,” Yang Xiaofan said, “perhaps a necklace, or a watch, or a bracelet.”

“Certainly, sir. May I ask, what price range are you interested in?”

Just as Yang Xiaofan was about to reply, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen—it was a call from Gu Hao. Turning to Qin Nuanyu, he said, “Class Monitor, go ahead and look around, see if there’s anything you like. I’m just going to have a quick word with Fatty.”

“Alright,” Qin Nuanyu nodded. She had been to places like Cartier with her parents before, so she felt quite at ease.

Yang Xiaofan stepped outside and answered the call. “Hey, Fatty, what’s up?”

“Uh... nothing much,” Gu Hao replied, “I just wanted to ask, where did you stash that art set you bought recently?”

“And why do you want to know?”

“Well, I’d like to see if I have any talent for painting. I mean, we’re in the same dorm and we’re best friends. It can’t be that you’re good at art and I don’t even have a speck of artistic bacteria in me, right?”

Yang Xiaofan was speechless for a moment. “It’s under the bed. Don’t mess it up—I still need it tonight.”

“Got it, I’ll just give it a try.”

After hanging up, Yang Xiaofan shook his head, amused. His drawing skills were all thanks to the Deification Project. Without it, he’d never have been able to create such impressive works. For ordinary people, learning to draw was no easy feat.

He quickly put the matter out of his mind. Today was for shopping with the class monitor; he needed to focus, not let his thoughts wander. But as he turned back inside, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Somehow, a greasy, middle-aged man in a suit had appeared at Qin Nuanyu’s side. Judging by the balding head, the man had to be at least in his forties, if not pushing fifty. His suit was decent—probably worth around ten thousand yuan. A gold watch glinted on his wrist, likely worth several tens of thousands. But that wasn’t the point. The point was the way he was enthusiastically explaining things to Qin Nuanyu, his gaze hungry and predatory, like a wolf eyeing a rabbit—ravenous.

The urge to swallow her whole was written all over his face.

Yang Xiaofan narrowed his eyes. A middle-aged, balding uncle daring to make a move on his girl? Now that was interesting.

With this thought, he walked forward quietly, catching the man’s words as he did.

“This is Cartier’s TANK FRANCAISE watch, the small model, quartz movement, crafted in stainless steel. It’s quite popular these days—lots of young women like this one. Would you like to try it on?”

Qin Nuanyu frowned in annoyance. “I’m not interested. And could you please leave? I don’t even know you.”

But the middle-aged man refused to give up, grinning lecherously. “That’s alright—once you get to know me, you will. I’m Li Dacheng, a business manager with the Mu Group here in town. My monthly salary is thirty thousand...”

He prattled on with a string of self-important nonsense. From the moment Qin Nuanyu entered the store, he’d had his eye on her. She was definitely at the level of a campus beauty.

The boy with her—Yang Xiaofan—was dressed in clothes from the bargain bin, the kind you’d find at Metersbonwe. The total cost of his entire outfit couldn’t have been more than four hundred yuan. Judging by their age, the man figured they must be young lovers from the local college.

It was as if fate had presented him with a plump morsel—if he didn’t take a bite, it would be a waste of a golden opportunity. So, without hesitation, he’d struck up a conversation with Qin Nuanyu as soon as Yang Xiaofan stepped away.

By this point, Yang Xiaofan had come up behind him. He glanced at the watch the man was talking up: twenty-six thousand nine hundred yuan. In a place like the Cartier counter, this was about as low-end as it got. Calling it “entry-level” was almost generous; in truth, it was just something Cartier used to fool vain, newly-independent young women.

Yang Xiaofan couldn’t help but find it amusing. He patted the man on the shoulder.

“Hey, Uncle—if you’re going to flirt, at least be willing to spend a little money. You think you can win over my girlfriend with a twenty-thousand-yuan entry-level watch?”

The man turned, gave Yang Xiaofan a once-over, and sneered. “Kids these days—so ignorant. Twenty thousand—can you even save up that much in a year?”

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re that naïve, Uncle. This is the twenty-first century—making money isn’t that hard, is it? Then again, you only make thirty thousand a month, so I suppose it is tough for you.”

The balding man gave a cold laugh. “You’re spouting nonsense, kid. Do you know what percentage of people in the entire country earn thirty thousand a month?”

“I don’t know about the percentage nationwide,” Yang Xiaofan replied, “but among those who shop at Cartier, thirty thousand a month is the absolute bottom of the barrel. If I were you, I’d turn left when you leave the mall—the street market over there has costume jewelry for just eight yuan each.”

The man’s face darkened completely. “You sure talk big! Dressed in those bargain clothes, what can you afford? And you think you’re in any position to lecture me?”

Yang Xiaofan shot him a look of utmost disdain and snapped his fingers. “Salesperson, what’s the most expensive women’s watch you have in stock right now?”

The sales consultant immediately responded with a smile, “That would be the Panthère collection, the eighteen-millimeter emerald model. The price is eight hundred and eighty thousand.”