Chapter 466: Take It

Of course, no one would ask Wang Yan what his relationship was with the beautiful senior three years older than him, or whether he liked older women. For one, if they asked, it would mean Zhu Xiao Bei had a big mouth. For two, what right did they have? What connection did they have to him?

The semester drew to a close, and exam week was soon upon them; regular classes hadn't ended yet, daytime lectures still covered new material, and at night everyone scrambled to cram—no one had much energy for idle chatter. After all, students' priority was always their studies.

Wang Yan was different—he was exempt from exams. Yet during the final two weeks, he saw Ruan Guan and the others only a handful of times. Zheng Wei he didn't see at all, as if she were avoiding him.

As for Shi Jie, there was not a single word from her—probably stunned into silence. His assertiveness had caught her off guard, left her unprepared. Considering factors like age, she was likely torn, hesitating, trying to talk herself into acceptance.

He was the one who gained the advantage, but he wasn't going to pout. If Shi Jie didn't reach out, he wouldn't initiate contact—let things be as they may. This was a psychological move: if he reached out first, Shi Jie would think she mattered deeply to him, which was wrong. She had to be the one to speak up, had to cross that inner wall of shyness herself—only then would she be better able to bear it. Of course, there was a risk she might truly cut off contact—but the odds were low. Wang Mou had roamed the romantic arena for five hundred years; he had this much confidence—plenty.

Soon, exam week ended, and students cleanly and decisively grabbed their pre-packed luggage, bought the earliest train tickets, and left. The three boys in Wang Yan's dorm even left the same night after their final exam. Ruan Wan and Li Weijuan had both come by yesterday to say goodbye—not for anything special, just to check his state, to care for him.

"Old Wang, I'm off then, take care of yourself." Zhang Kai slung his backpack over his shoulder, set his luggage by the door, stepped into Room 312, and saw Wang Yan sitting on the edge of his bed flipping through a book: "Hey, why don't you just come stay with my place? Not far at all. If you can't get a ticket, just hop on the train and pay the fare later. Come on? My dad cooks amazing food—I guarantee you'll gain ten pounds this winter."

Wang Yan shook his head with a smile, set the book down on the table: "Thanks, Old Zhang, but I've gotten used to this over the years—it's fine. Besides, New Year's only lasts two days, no big deal."

"Really no problem?"

"No problem. Do you think I'd lie? Go on, go." Wang Yan waved him off, signaling him to leave.

Zhang Kai sighed, gave him a smile, turned, and shut the door.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door. Wang Yan turned his head: "Come in."

Under his gaze, the door opened, and Zheng Wei stepped in, fidgeting.

"What's this about?"

"I came to apologize to you."

"What now are you apologizing for?"

Zheng Wei looked into Wang Yan's deep eyes and said: "About me asking Xu Kaiyang to get your records—I hope you don't mind. Back then, we were enemies. Knowing yourself and knowing your enemy ensures victory in every battle—that's why I had Xu Kaiyang help me. I didn't just get your records—I got Chen Xiaozheng's too. I'm the one who told Ruan Wan, Xiao Bei, and Li Weijuan about your parents' deaths. I'm sorry. I apologize."

She spoke haltingly, clearly genuinely embarrassed. After all, if she'd been this hesitant over an apology, she never would've been so blunt last time.

He glanced at her, nodded: "Mm. Got it. Go."

Seeing his indifferent expression, Zheng Wei bristled, exhaled sharply, and turned to leave. But at the door, she turned back, staring at Wang Yan reading by the window, her neck stiff: "What did I even do? Why do you hate me so much?"

Wang Yan waved his hand, didn't even look at her.

Zheng Wei exhaled again, suppressing her fury at being ignored, and quickly turned and ran off. She feared her short temper might flare up again and she'd end up quarreling with that Wang guy.

This time, peace finally came. No one disturbed him again. Wang Yan settled down and read steadily until past nine, then packed his small bag full of textbooks and left the dorm for the house he'd bought.

This house didn't have many books—after all, he had access to a massive library nearby, where he could browse and borrow freely. Much more convenient.

After tidying up at home until noon, he wandered over to the barbecue spot.

The barbecue shop's business was booming. Just a short while after opening at noon, it was already packed. This situation had persisted since the fifth day after opening. The first five days were a period of fermentation and spread: those who got free skewers couldn't forget them; those who ate them recommended them to friends. Every day, they opened at eleven, started serving at twelve, stopped admitting new customers at 11:30 p. m., and didn't clear out until around one or two a. m. —almost always at full capacity. Very profitable.

Inside, Zhu Dajie, now noticeably thinner, worked tirelessly alongside the waitstaff. Zhu Xiao Bei stood at the cash register collecting money.

"You're here? Have you eaten? Should I have the kitchen make you something?"

"Yeah, just something simple."

Zhu Xiao Bei hurried to the kitchen to instruct the chef, then rushed back, grabbed two bottles of Beibingyang soda, handed one to Wang Yan: "Everyone's gone, right?"

"Left yesterday," Wang Yan sipped the soda. "When are you two leaving?"

"The twenty-eighth of the twelfth lunar month. We'll stay a few days to visit relatives on both sides of the family, then come back on the sixth."

"Money isn't made in a hurry. I say wait till after the Lantern Festival."

Zhu Xiao Bei shook her head vigorously: "No way. That's only because I pleaded and pleaded, plus your advice, that my sister agreed. Now we're making thousands a day—that's real money. And according to you, even during the holiday, we pay the staff wages—that's a loss."

Wang Yan laughed. In Zhu Dajie's simple worldview, only income without outflow was ideal. She resented his insistence on high wages for staff—it was just too much. He had to give her a basic lesson on how to make the shop better.

Zhu Dajie still trusted Wang Yan. She always believed he had great ability, so she listened. After deducting costs like ingredients, rent, and taxes, the net profit was split: sixty percent went to staff for social insurance—only implemented since last year—and wages, distributed according to position and seniority. Ten percent went to personal use—eight percent to Zhu Dajie, two percent to him. The remaining thirty percent was retained: one, for emergencies; two, to accumulate funds for opening branch stores.

This allocation ensured staff loyalty and enthusiasm, and amounted to shared prosperity. After all, this wasn't charity—even the dishwashers earned far more than the era's standard four or five hundred yuan, and received proper social insurance. Absolutely conscientious.

If replicated, expansion might start slow, but the momentum would be immense. In just a few years, dozens of stores could be built. Then, by controlling raw materials, launch another company to centrally supply ingredients and secret barbecue sauces, ensuring safety and consistency. Not a giant, but a behemoth in the catering industry.

"How were your exams? Didn't fail anything, right?" Wang Yan asked about Zhu Xiao Bei's studies.

"No problem. I'm not as brilliant as you, but I got into this school on my own. I've been distracted these past few months thinking about the barbecue shop, so my grades might be low—but passing? Definitely. No way I'll fail."

"Good. Don't let your studies slip."

"Got it." Zhu Xiao Bei hurried back to the kitchen, brought two bowls of fried rice and a cold salad, and sat with Wang Yan at the cash register, chatting and laughing as they ate.

"Hey, why haven't we seen Shi Jie-senior lately?"

Wang Yan took a big bite of fried rice, didn't look up: "Who knows? Probably busy with year-end work."

"Oh..." Zhu Xiao Bei bowed her head and ate in silence; after a while, she said, "Hey, my hair's gotten long."

Zhu Xiao Bei lowered her head and ate quietly. After a while, she said: "Hey, my hair's getting long."

"You're kidding. It's not even as long as mine—just keep growing it."

"Growing hair is such a hassle. Cut it, and it won't grow long. Don't cut it, and it looks awful. Especially by the ears—look at how it sticks out…"

Chatting aimlessly with Zhu Xiao Bei over lunch, Wang Yan wandered off.

He needed to get his "stars and seas" project going. Even if he didn't research those things, he'd still need to make money by starting a real estate company—he truly wanted to get into construction now.

For this venture's starting point, he still planned to sell cooling tea. He'd sold it once during his chase after Long, and Zhou Bingkun had sold it again in the mortal world—he felt this industry was genuinely good. If you had money, you did it one way; if you didn't, you did it another. Low cost, low profit margin, but enormous volume. Beyond employing workers, it could help build a logistics network in the south.

Moreover, cooling tea's ingredients were all herbs—perfect groundwork for the future Qiang Shen Wan. It would also cultivate a ground-pushing team, ready to launch Qiang Shen Wan in Hong Kong with a supercharged start.

He wasn't launching Qiang Shen Wan right away because the capital requirement was high and market entry difficult. First, he'd make money with cooling tea—so he could make even more money later. Of course, cooling tea wasn't his only option—he had many other profitable ventures. He just needed one industry to generate income to fund Qiang Shen Wan's initial sales. Once Qiang Shen Wan took off, money wouldn't be a problem.

And since domestic purchasing power was still low, he wouldn't sell in China yet. He'd start in Hong Kong, targeting overseas markets, and only gradually introduce it domestically after 2000. He'd be making foreign money—then use it to rebuild China. A great thing.

So over the next few days, he rented a factory in the suburbs of Jin Ling, hired over ten workers and six salespeople, and contacted large-scale herbal suppliers. He trained the sales team first, had the workers begin production and stockpile, and planned to personally lead them to Guangdong and other provinces after the New Year. He was still studying in Jin Ling, so he had to oversee things early on—otherwise, he'd have set up the factory directly in Guangdong.

Busy times fly. Before he knew it, it was New Year's Eve.

Wang Yan had already bought fish, meat, and vegetables, and brought back aged liquor in advance. He could've made do, but today was different—he'd eat well, even if alone.

After morning exercise, he returned home, boiled instant noodles, cracked two eggs into them, added a sausage—breakfast done. He read until past ten, then began preparing lunch.

High-end ingredients need only simple cooking, but Wang Yan's ingredients were bought yesterday at market—they weren't fresh, let alone premium. So his methods were elaborate: he relied on seasonings to enhance flavor and freshness for mediocre ingredients.

After a long day's work, he prepared six dishes—three cold, three hot—poured himself a glass of baijiu, turned on the TV for noise, sat in the dim living room without sunlight, and leisurely drank alone.

【61】 He didn't like this—when alone, when drinking alone, memories inevitably rose. Unlike ordinary elderly people reminiscing, his memories were too many, too heavy.

And so, he became lost in the past.

"Clang, clang, clang"

The old house's rusted iron gate, when lightly tapped, clanged loudly. The sound disrupted Wang Yan's thoughts, pulling him out of his memories. He glanced at the empty dishes, the second bottle of wine already drained, shook his head with a smile, and called out: "Coming." He rose, stretched his body with a loud crackling of joints, and took three quick steps to open the door.

As the door opened, he saw Shi Jie standing outside, holding a pile of items, gazing at him with soft eyes.

"Senior sister's here? Come in, come in! You didn't have to bring anything." Wang Yan instantly changed his expression, reached out to take the items from her hands, and ushered her inside.

"I was just worried you'd eat poorly by yourself, so I saved a portion of my mom's cooking for you," Shi Jie said naturally, taking off her shoes at the door and walking to the large table, eyeing the empty plates with only scraps left: "Wow, looks like I worried for nothing—you've got fish, shrimp, nice. Hey, why are you drinking so much?"

Wang Yan smiled as he set down her offerings and explained: "Not much—I'm in good shape, I could handle another bottle. Do I look drunk? Good thing I made too little; you've brought me a blessing in need."

He unsealed the plastic bag, took out all the dishes, found another pair of chopsticks and a cup, then sat back down.

"Wine or soda?"

"Wine. You drinking alone is boring—I'll have a little with you."

Wang Yan nodded, filled his own cup, then poured half a cup for her. They began chatting about which dishes tasted best, whose cooking was better, and the state of the barbecue joint, and so on.

After chatting for ages, Shi Jie had drunk half a cup, her cheeks flushed red, yet still said nothing meaningful. Wang Yan took the initiative, moved his chair beside her, and took her hand: "Senior sister is avoiding me?"

Shi Jie tugged her hand, but couldn't pull it free, so she let him stroke it, though she scolded: "You didn't even contact me! Still think I'm mad?"

"Some things you need to figure out yourself—like the age gap between us. I'm a student; you're already working. Like how I have a little money now, and might have a lot later. Men with money…"

"Turn bad!"

"Exactly. They all end up chasing women." Wang Yan smiled, wrapped his arm around her neck, and rested it on her shoulder.

She leaned naturally into his chest: "Then will you turn bad?"

"I can tell you honestly—if that day ever comes, I will. How many men can resist temptation? After amassing great wealth, countless women will scheme to get close. One you can refuse; two, you can still refuse. But three? If three are too many, there are three hundred, three thousand—and they're all more beautiful than the last. Eventually, you'll meet one you can't refuse."

Shi Jie fell silent. She had mustered great courage to knock on this door, and now she leaned against her good junior. But her good junior spoke without hesitation of his own fickleness…

Her good junior was outstanding: both parents dead, yet still got into Southeast University, excelled in two majors simultaneously, earned professors' approval and exam exemptions. He sold computers at steep discounts—clearly profitable. He casually handed out twenty thousand yuan and a highly profitable formula to a classmate he'd known only months, helping her open a shop. Throughout the whole process, he barely paid attention. No matter how you looked at it, his "if" was inevitable. Such a man could never fade into obscurity.

And she knew Zhu Xiao Bei liked her good junior. She wasn't stupid—a short-haired tomboy who treated everyone casually, yet showed rare feminine tenderness only around her good junior. She didn't believe such a sharp man could miss it…

After a long silence, Shi Jie still didn't move. Wang Yan understood perfectly. She was torn—and when someone is torn, they've already chosen. Most crucially, they weren't getting married.

Though women today weren't as liberated as they'd be in twenty years, they were already open. How could such a large campus have no couples? Young men and women, how could they resist the urge to explore each other? In such a vast city, how could rumors of abortions not circulate?

Dating and future marriage were worlds apart. He was only a freshman; he still had over three years until graduation. Three years—how many changes could happen? Who could know? Though Shi Jie might not have expected him to bluntly call himself a bad person, she must have considered the changes time might bring. Yet she still came—while he shamelessly called himself worthless, she didn't slap him and walk out.

Youth is always reckless, always assuming a beginning means forever. There's a line in one movie that says it well: youth is meant to be remembered. How can you remember what you never experienced?

He lifted her face with his hand, their eyes met—hers filled with confusion, longing to resist, yet her body powerless. He lowered his head and kissed her lips again.

Shi Jie sank into it once more, responding. Unconsciously, she lay back on the soft bed. Then she felt her burning body grow cooler. She turned her head toward the window, where a red firework exploded in the sky…

After bathing and changing the sheets, Wang Yan leaned against the headboard, smoking, cradling his tired senior sister—her hair damp, her face still flushed with lingering pleasure—as he played with his little treasure.

"You got lucky—you're responsible to the end."

A woman's body is her greatest weapon, yet also her final defense. Though they'd already agreed beforehand, now that it had happened, how could Shi Jie truly accept the future Wang Yan described?

He exhaled smoke: "I've always been responsible. As long as you don't leave, there won't be a problem. When I get rich, I'll make sure you eat well and drink well."

"Hmph…" Shi Jie snorted, showing her displeasure. But receiving no reply, she sighed deeply: "Men really are all no good—once they get what they want, they ignore you."

That was unreasonable. Wang Yan grabbed her hand and guided it downward, found the spot, and lifted his hips: "Then let me show you again?"

"No, no—give me two days. You're really clueless about tender care." Shi Jie gave little Wang a light slap, then remembered something, pulled her hand from under the covers, and tapped his broad chest with a soft fist: "You put it all inside—what if I get pregnant?"

"You don't want to have my child?"

"No, but you're still in school, and I just started working. And how do I explain this to my parents?"

Wang Yan pulled the increasingly agitated senior sister back down and hugged her: "Don't worry—I know what I'm doing. No problem."

Shi Jie couldn't help but sigh, and fell silent.

After more hugging, touching, and idle chatter, Wang Yan watched his good junior slowly putting on her clothes, her back to him: "Wait a little longer."

"No, I've been out too long. It's New Year's Day—my family's probably waiting for me to make dumplings."

"Alright, I'll take you home."

Wang Yan nodded, extinguished his cigarette, pulled back the covers, sat on the edge of the bed, and began dressing.

Seeing little Wang swaying, Shi Jie remembered the sensation from moments ago, blushed again, and swiftly turned away to finish dressing.

Shi Jie had arrived in the afternoon; after their intimate exchange, night had fallen. Fireworks occasionally burst in the sky, illuminating the silent night. Few pedestrians walked the streets—the bustle was inside every household.

Since Shi Jie moved slowly, Wang Yan carried her on his back, strolling leisurely along the road toward Southeast University's staff housing. Her arms wrapped around his neck, breathing in that indescribable natural scent, she rested against his back, savoring her happiness…

Life after the New Year changed slightly, because of Shi Jie. After resting on the first day, the newly initiated, now addicted, arrived early on the second day and spent the whole afternoon in fierce combat with her good junior—afterward, she became much more composed.

Wang Yan didn't hide it—he took Shi Jie to the factory he'd built in just a few days. Of course, hiding was impossible; Shi Jie wanted to cling to him twenty-four hours a day. But this wouldn't last long—she had a job. After the post-holiday return to work, Wang Yan directly took people and began promoting the tea bags he'd already made, still without branding. Originally, people brewed their own blends anyway, with no formal procedures—so no one cared. He was handling the proper paperwork, but it took time; this didn't matter much, so he sold first.

Though it was winter, the people of Guangdong and Guangxi never wavered in their love for cooling tea—impact was minimal. His promotion method: give away two free packs first, explain the product's advantages and price, then tell customers to call if they want to buy later. This kind of sales was simple—just hard physical labor; no walking, no results.

Shi Jie's possessiveness—or lack of security—had surfaced. Of course, calling it romantic dependency now was fine. During his time in Guangdong and Guangxi, she called him several times a day, always with the same few words, mostly asking when he'd return.

Wang Yan wasn't worried. In his life, there were many kinds of women; handling Shi Jie was effortless. Besides, he still liked her—once familiar, she revealed a wildness utterly unlike her quiet exterior, intuitively mastering many tricks, and it felt wonderful.

After several trips between Guangdong/Guangxi and Jin Ling, he finally stabilized the front lines, secured logistics for shipping, and completed all necessary business procedures—only then did he settle down.

"Long time no see, Xiao Bei," Wang Yan said cheerfully to Zhu Xiao Bei in the packed, noisy barbecue restaurant that afternoon.

"Wang Yan?" Zhu Xiao Bei stared in surprise as he sat down at the cash register. "I tried to contact you before but couldn't. It was only when Shi Jie senior brought friends here to eat that she said you went to Guangdong. Why did you go to Guangdong? We reopened on the seventh, and now it's almost time for school—you're only showing up now."

"Nothing much—I opened a cooling tea factory during the holiday. People in Guangdong, Guangxi, and even Hong Kong and Macau love cooling tea, so I went to promote the product."

"You opened a cooling tea factory?" Zhu Xiao Bei widened her eyes, but quickly regained composure—this man had brains and money, so it was believable. She asked: "If it's called a factory, you must have a lot of people?"

"Not bad—now there are over forty, mostly production staff; sales are only a dozen or so."

Zhu Xiao Bei nodded, didn't press further—she wouldn't understand anyway. She looked puzzled at Wang Yan: "Aren't your dreams to design and build your own skyscraper someday? Shouldn't you start a real estate company? Why are you selling cooling tea now?"

Wang Yan shook his head with a smile: "You need money to start one. I'm selling cooling tea to earn money first. When I have enough, I'll start a company, get the licenses, buy land, and build."

Xiao Bei awkwardly scratched her head, grinning: "Go for it—I believe you can do it."

"Thanks."

The busy, increasingly capable Zhu Dajie saw Wang Yan arrive, her face glowing as she rushed over to grab his hand and talk to him. There was nothing new—still just thanks. She could never have imagined that in just half a year since her sister started school, she had gone from rising before dawn and working past dusk selling buns with no hope, to now earning thousands in daily revenue and managing nearly twenty employees with an endless future ahead. She believed that learning changes destiny—this saying had not a single flaw. Zhu Xiao Bei studied well, got into Southeast University, and then their sisters' fates changed—he was their greatest benefactor.

Wang Yan smiled and humored her, exchanged a few words, then left—he had no time to linger, she was too busy. Besides, he needed to return to the house and pack up; school was starting, and he had to move back into his dorm room.