Chapter 9: Keep your voice down, my dad's right here

For the next two days, Chen Yansen stayed home doing practice problems.

It wasn't until Xiong Xiaoge called that he unhurriedly went downstairs and picked up three courier packages.

Samples sent by three suppliers, each one an MP3 and an MP4, with nearly identical designs and features.

The MP3 had 2GB of internal memory, supported SD card expansion, and could be expanded up to a maximum of 16GB.

A 110 mAh lithium battery, according to the seller, could play continuously for 70 hours and supported MP3 and WMA formats.

The front had a 1.8-inch display screen, supported TXT-format e-books, and the workmanship was slightly rough.

"Total electronic junk!"

Chen Yansen played with the MP3 in his hand and remarked with feeling.

Only, this is 2010 now—at its wholesale price of around twenty-something, it could absolutely sell like crazy at the rural market fair, flying off the shelves!

The MP4's craftsmanship was far more refined, uniformly 4GB of internal memory, supporting SD card expansion up to a maximum of 16GB.

A 4.3-inch large screen, 720p resolution, piano lacquer finish, looking classy as hell, supporting photo browsing, recording, and radio functions.

The wholesale prices from the three suppliers were 105 yuan, 110 yuan, and 118 yuan respectively, all extremely competitively priced.

"Quality-wise there are no major issues; as for which one to choose, I'll still have to look at their sincerity on after-sales service and freebies."

Chen Yansen studied for the better part of a day and said with a long sigh.

*Rip! *

He tore a page from his notebook, then hunched over the coffee table and wrote on the paper: banners, roll-up stands, folding tables and chairs, wallets, suits, change, and so on.

Clearly making the final preparations for his first pot of gold.

After working out all the details, Chen Yansen stuffed the note into his pocket, pushed open the door, and walked out.

On a summer evening, the streets were full of shadowy figures, the vendors at the intersection hawked loudly, and the air carried the aroma of fried skewers.

Chen Yansen rode his bike along a lane of grey bricks and dark tiles.

He had originally planned to go to an internet cafe, but halfway there his stomach started growling, and only then did he suddenly remember he hadn't eaten dinner.

"Better fill my belly first."

Chen Yansen turned around at the intersection, followed the route in his memory, and found a wonton shop.

"One bowl of wontons, and three liang of pot stickers."

Chen Yansen plopped himself down and called out to the busy owner at the door.

"Got it, just a moment."

The middle-aged man with a Mediterranean hairstyle cracked a grin, hurriedly replied, and went back to the work in his hands.

"Spring Shen in 2010—every glance is one less glance."

Chen Yansen smiled faintly and mocked himself inwardly.

In his previous life he had been busy making money; ever since graduation, he hadn't come back for two or three years at a stretch, so naturally his impressions grew fainter and fainter.

"Chen Yansen!"

Just as he was spacing out, a familiar voice came from outside the door.

The voice was crisp and rather pleasant to hear, but there was a touch of anger in it.

"Why aren't you replying to my messages?"

Meng Jie stormed over in a fury, her fists clenched tight; judging by her expression, she seemed to want to land a solid punch right on Chen Yansen's face.

"Did you even send me a message?"

Chen Yansen was startled by her words, found it baffling, then tossed his phone onto the table and said, chin raised, "Here, pull it up and show me."

"But you're the one who told me to look, no take-backs."

Meng Jie picked up the Nokia N78 on the table, opened Mobile QQ, and a string of notification sounds rang out instantly.

"Don't you usually log into QQ?"

She glanced at the screen—red dots covering the whole display, all unread messages—and Meng Jie finally understood: Chen Yansen wasn't ignoring just her messages, he was fairly ignoring everyone's messages.

"Who uses that thing? I usually only… make phone calls."

Chen Yansen said with a face full of disdain; the words "WeChat" almost slipped out, but luckily he caught himself in time.

"Then who was this person stealing vegetables from my farm last week?"

Meng Jie pulled out a delicate, compact pink Ericsson X10, pointed at a string of text on the screen, and demanded.

*Oh no! 【Lonely√Wanderer】 stole your 【Dragon Fruit】, costing you 【8】! *

*Oh no! 【Lonely√Wanderer】 stole your 【Rose】, costing you 【5】! *

*Oh no! 【Lonely√Wanderer】 stole your 【Starfruit】, costing you 【2】! *

……

Chen Yansen gave an awkward laugh; his vegetable-stealing frequency was admittedly a bit excessive.

"Wang Zihao often helps me stay online to harvest crops, maybe it was him."

Chen Yansen skillfully dumped the blame on Wang Zihao.

"Yeah?"

Meng Jie made it clear she didn't buy it.

"Give me back my phone, I'll reply to your messages right now."

Chen Yansen steered the conversation back; he knew perfectly well that Meng Jie's concern wasn't really about the stolen vegetables.

"It's nothing really, just asking you to play ball."

Hearing him say that, a faint blush suddenly rose on Meng Jie's face, and she became coy instead; the N78 was gripped tight in her hand, and she absolutely refused to give it back to Chen Yansen.

"If it's nothing, then why won't you let me see?"

Chen Yansen looked at the oddly-acting Meng Jie, his heart stirred, and he made as if to snatch the phone back.

"I'll return it to you in a moment, give me three more seconds."

Meng Jie hurriedly stepped back, rapidly tapping on the keyboard. Only after seeing the messages completely wiped did she finally breathe a sigh of relief, a smile curling at her lips.

"Deleted everything?"

Chen Yansen sat on the bench and asked out of the blue.

"Yep."

Meng Jie answered instinctively, only realizing it after the words had already left her mouth.

"So, what exactly did you send me?"

Chen Yansen folded his arms across his chest, a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked her up and down.

"Asked you to play ball, that's all."

Meng Jie handed the phone back, her smile especially cunning—main strategy: no evidence, no crime.

Chen Yansen didn't mind. From her reaction it wasn't hard to guess the gist of the messages. He took the phone and casually flipped through it.

Skimming past a pile of group messages from "Class 8, Grade 3," the person who had messaged him the most, apart from Wang Zihao, was someone called "Smile, Tugging the Corners of the Mouth," whose profile picture was a girl with a bun.

He squinted at it. The style was too non-mainstream for him to recognize who it was—maybe it was just some random internet picture to begin with.

'Chen Yansen, you went way too far today!'

'???'

'Why aren't you replying to my messages!'

'I'm giving you one last chance. If you don't reply, don't expect me to ever talk to you again.'

'Cut it out, I'm really angry this time!'

'……'

Chen Yansen casually tapped open the chat, gave it a quick scan, and immediately understood who the other person was.

'Heh, who has time to mess around with you.'

Chen Yansen couldn't be bothered to reply. He went straight down the whole chain—block, delete, done with it, clean and tidy.

Meng Jie, sitting across from him, craned her neck and watched his every move clearly. After a moment's thought, she picked the topic back up: "I heard from Haozi that you two both applied to Void City College?"

"Nothing for it. Zi Hao and I are brothers in hardship, barely scraping by the second-tier cutoff. It's the schools picking us, not us picking the schools."

Chen Yansen's tone was flat. Though his words sounded utterly pitiful, his expression clearly showed he didn't care in the slightest.

"Last time you said I'd slip into the next admission batch—maybe the three of us still have a chance to be classmates again."

Meng Jie said carefully, secretly watching his reaction.

"Your second choice was also Void City College?"

Chen Yansen looked genuinely surprised. He only remembered that Meng Jie would indeed slip into the next batch this time, and later didn't go to any school at all. She repeated a year the next year and got into Luzhou University of Finance and Economics.

"Yeah."

Meng Jie nodded and replied casually.

"Let's skip the classmate thing. I'd suggest you repeat a year. With your ability, one more shot and a 211 is no problem."

Chen Yansen offered the suggestion of his own accord.

"You sound exactly like my dad."

Meng Jie let out a soft sigh, propped her chin on her hand, her expression wistful.

A pure white short-sleeved T-shirt wrapped her upper body, outlining a petite, delicate figure. Perhaps because they were sitting close, a faint, fresh scent of gardenia drifted over.

"You haven't forgotten our bet from last time, right? I like white stockings."

Chen Yansen leaned back, taking in Meng Jie's delicate features. Then, suddenly shifting the topic, he brought up the old matter once again.

"Keep your voice down, my dad's right here."

Meng Jie quickly clamped a hand over Chen Yansen's dog mouth, turned to look toward the door, and only relaxed once she saw her dad still chatting with his friend.

(End of chapter)