Chapter 22
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After saying it, Xu Wei felt a tinge of regret. It wasn’t that he couldn’t find the money elsewhere, but for a larger sum, Lin Hao was his only option.
A friend once mentioned that poor people rarely get the chance to know rich people. At the time, Xu Wei didn’t believe it, saying he did know one wealthy person. But counting through, that “one” truly was just Lin Hao.
So he took a deep breath, firming his resolve.
He had asked a few others before, but they all had their own reasons—needing to support their band, a girlfriend, or a business. It was inconvenient for them. Only Lin Hao didn’t seem to mind the amount.
“How much do you need?” Lin Hao asked.
Xu Wei named a number—a substantial one—enough for Lin Hao to question if he was being scammed. But Xu Wei assured him it was just the company’s asking price, a necessary five-figure amount for various expenses, not some trick.
“Marketing?” Lin Hao frowned.
He understood this much: marketing was an endlessly expanding pit, one that could swallow unlimited amounts if you let it.
After some thought, Lin Hao replied, “Alright. Since the amount isn’t small, we should have a serious talk.”
“Yes, we should.” Xu Wei agreed.
“First, since this is personal, I won’t charge you interest or require a guarantor. But we’ll need to put things in writing: an IOU, a thumbprint, a repayment date, and…”
…
Leaving the eatery, Lin Hao could sense Xu Wei looking at him differently—less warmly than before.
Understandably so. Xu Wei’s perspective on money was straightforward: if a friend needs money and he has it, he’ll lend it, no IOUs required; they could repay him whenever they could. Lin Hao, however, grew up in modern society and was a businessman, so he placed importance on these things. For an emergency like medical bills or food, especially for a small amount, maybe he’d overlook it.
But borrowing for an album, for things those companies expected Xu Wei to cover—a luxury, in a way—was different. To Lin Hao, it was like someone borrowing money to buy a designer handbag. For that, they needed a talk.
His cautious approach wasn’t out of mistrust, but because he’d once lost a friend over unclear lending terms.
In the end, he lent Xu Wei a large sum. But ironically, instead of solidifying their friendship, it seemed to create distance between them.
Still, maybe it wasn’t all bad.
They differed on such fundamental matters that it would have led to conflict sooner or later.
Sighing, Lin Hao took a cab back, mulling things over. Yet he doubted he, as a young guy, could fully grasp it all. Maybe no one truly could.
…
When Lin Hao returned to his dorm, the usual noise was alive, though no one dared to touch his bed—he was famously known for his fastidious cleanliness, considered “extreme” by dorm standards. As he lay on his bed, he brushed off greetings, still preoccupied by today’s events.
With military training nearly over, his classmates eagerly planned trips to famous Beijing landmarks and local eateries. They were excited about the semester ahead and a bit anxious about the rumored academic workload. But for now, leisure was the focus.
“I want to visit Tiananmen! I’ve been dying to see the flag-raising!”
“Hey, if Haozi stood there, he’d look just as good as the real soldiers, wouldn’t he?”
“At least more handsome, don’t you think?”
“Stop it. Haozi’s not in the mood today,” said Niu Qingfeng, nudging everyone to leave. “Forget sweet-talking him into setting you up with girls; you’d have better luck getting me to organize another dinner.”
“Yeah, right~”
The word “yeah” had caught on from Lin Hao, becoming a class-wide phrase.
Soon the boys, exhausted by military training, dispersed to sleep.
…
The days passed without much incident, except that Lin Hao received a love letter. Liu Ye almost opened it and read it to everyone before Lin Hao snatched it, burned it, and claimed it was for privacy. Typical Lin Hao.
Oh, and Qin Hao got heatstroke once.
And Niu Qingfeng remembered that Lin Hao was chosen as lead soldier for the upcoming flag-raising, a role sure to attract every girl’s attention.
…
At 7 p.m. that evening, they gathered at the same restaurant with the same people, but with a much livelier atmosphere.
“Cheers!” they shouted together, celebrating the end of their grueling month-long military training. While many had shed tears in the afternoon farewell, mostly guys, it seemed all in the past now.
“This time, Lin ‘Teacher’ Hao has no reason to stop us from drinking, right?” Chen Minghao teased, pleased with the nickname he’d given Lin Hao, which everyone quickly adopted.
Lin Hao sighed, “Fine, but remember, drinking isn’t exactly a good thing…”
“There he goes again! Today, you were the star of the show, with the cameras practically glued to your face. How could we let this slide? Let’s make him drink!”
“Hey, hey, don’t pick on him!”
“Oh! Oh! Pinky over here cares about him!”
A few drinks in, everyone relaxed, jokes flying more freely than usual. Zhang Tong was caught between laughing and facepalming at the group’s antics, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
“I’m the class monitor; I have to keep you all in line,” she reminded them.
“Yeah? So what if we care?”
Then Zhang Ziyi chimed in, “Anyone who makes him drink has to go through us girls first. We’ll match you—one beer for us, one bottle of liquor for you. Deal?”
“Please, spare me!” one of them groaned.
Lin Hao sighed in relief, though he realized this could get out of hand quickly. Zhang Ziyi was the lively type—gentle-looking and soft-spoken, yet always stirring things up.
Quick to redirect, Lin Hao said, “Let’s not get carried away. The new semester’s about to start, and while relaxing is fine, remember we’ll have a lot of quizzes and a busy year ahead.”
“Alright, alright, Teacher Lin!”
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