Chapter 97: You Can

The next morning, Chen Yansen dressed neatly and went downstairs to the dining room.

As soon as he entered, he saw Song Yuncheng sitting alone by the window, holding half a fried dough stick, a bowl of tofu pudding in front of her, and a suitcase at her feet.

She wasn’t wearing the white blazer from yesterday but the patched pink down jacket, her hair messy, tied into a high ponytail, revealing a smooth forehead.

Chen Yansen casually picked up some breakfast and walked over with his tray.

“So early? What time’s your train?” Chen Yansen sat down and asked softly.

“Nine-thirty,” Song Yuncheng glanced at him and made up a train number offhand.

“What time do you get to Lucheng?” Chen Yansen asked again.

“I—I didn’t pay attention,” Song Yuncheng hadn’t bought a ticket, so she had no idea the arrival time; she lowered her head to avoid his gaze.

“Did you know? When people lie, their expressions unconsciously become unnatural, but this instinctive reaction can be suppressed through training.”

Chen Yansen observed her expression closely and teased.

“Really?” Song Yuncheng laughed awkwardly, picked up her milk, took a sip, and tactfully avoided the topic: “By the way, are you going back to school today?”

“I’m going to Lucheng.”

Chen Yansen stared at Song Yuncheng and spoke slowly.

“You’re going to Lucheng too?” Song Yuncheng’s eyes lit up, her lips curled slightly, and a hint of joy appeared on her face.

But immediately she realized: Chen Yansen must have seen through her lie long ago—he was going to Lujang, most likely to see her home.

“Yeah, taking a Daomeidan home,” Chen Yansen nodded.

“I thought I’d try my luck at the long-distance bus station,” Song Yuncheng muttered softly; she understood his meaning but didn’t want to interact with him too much.

She feared sinking deeper.

“These two days, all universities in Shanghai are on break, and bus tickets are impossible to get,” Chen Yansen added, crushing her last hope.

At nine-thirty, the two left the hotel and got in the car.

Chen Yansen sped along the outer ring road, soon entering the highway; he glanced at Song Yuncheng, who was staring blankly: “Play a song.”

“Huh? Okay,” Song Yuncheng snapped back to attention and obediently agreed.

It took Song Yuncheng ten minutes to connect the car’s Bluetooth, and after scrolling through her phone’s songs, she found none suited Chen Yansen’s personality.

After much hesitation, she picked “Lucheng Moon”—fitting enough.

“As a child, I stole light from someone’s wall, neglected my hair, endured ten years of cold window study.”

“Now, reading by lamplight, a sleeve adds fragrance; half a lifetime’s fame is but illusion…”

Chen Yansen hummed along, his voice low and husky with magnetic depth.

Song Yuncheng froze slightly; after months together, she’d almost forgotten Chen Yansen was also a 90s kid—even older than her by a year.

“He actually listens to Xu Song,” she thought silently, unable to help smiling; this was the first time she’d seen another side of Chen Yansen.

Wait—

The pattern on Chen Yansen’s underwear also clashed wildly with his usual polished appearance.

Thinking of it, her cheeks flushed.

Song Yuncheng leaned back, watching the scenery blur past the window, thinking: You’re such a loser—Chen Yansen just waved his hand and you hopped right into the car. Didn’t you promise yourself you’d treat him only as your boss, your Master?

She recalled that an hour ago, some inexplicable force had pushed her into the car.

“Is it because I like him?”

Song Yuncheng stole a glance at Chen Yansen—sharp features, refined face; the girls who liked him could fill a whole soccer team just from Class 10 News, let alone the entire Virtual Academy.

“Say he’s bad—he only takes advantage of me, besides Meng Jie; say he’s good—he’s always eyeing what’s in the pot while eating from the bowl—a scumbag.”

Song Yuncheng stayed silent, her mind racing, her face alternating between red and pale.

Chen Yansen drove skillfully, going straight from Shanghai to Jinling without stopping.

After eating lunch at a rest area, they set off again half an hour later.

At three in the afternoon, Chen Yansen exited the highway, drove on a provincial road for an hour, then turned onto a country lane.

The country road was even harder than the highway—bumpy, and when cars met, they had to veer onto the field ridges to pass.

The sun hung above the birch branches, offering no warmth.

The early winter wind howled, swirling a few dry leaves toward a distant ditch.

“Are you going home to see your parents?” Chen Yansen asked suddenly.

“No,” Song Yuncheng shook her head, then added quickly: “I’m going to see my brother.”

“Your brother should have graduated and started working by now?” Chen Yansen asked without thinking.

“My brother can’t graduate,” Song Yuncheng smiled bitterly, a flicker of guilt in her eyes.

Chen Yansen turned to look at her, puzzled: “Flunked out?”

“My brother won scholarships every year—he never failed a single course,” Song Yuncheng sighed, forcing a faint smile.

Chen Yansen chuckled, shrugged, and thought: I never failed either.

Every class at 60!

Even English was 99!

The principal and dean had both given instructions; the professors had no choice but to force his 10-point exams into 60s!

Chen Yansen didn’t fully understand and didn’t press further—he was interested in Song Yuncheng, not her brother.

A few minutes later, the car stopped beside a two-story house.

“This is your home?” Chen Yansen glanced around curiously.

The house had courtyards inside and out, each dozens of square meters; the two-story living space was similarly spacious.

It was much bigger than his own home—apparently Song Yuncheng wasn’t as poor as he’d thought.

He’d assumed her family was so broke they rattled when they moved.

“Want to come in for a drink?” Song Yuncheng didn’t answer, but asked instead.

She didn’t want Chen Yansen inside—too many explanations, and she didn’t want him to know too much about her.

But he’d driven all this way to drop her off; refusing him even a glass of water would make her seem heartless.

“Better yet, have a meal,” Chen Yansen said without any politeness.

He took his suitcase from the trunk and walked straight ahead, as if this were his own house.

“Chen Yansen, slow down,” Song Yuncheng ran to catch up.

As Chen Yansen stepped inside, he met a woman in her thirties, who stared at him in shock.

“Who are you?” The woman frowned, confused.

“Auntie, I’m back,” Song Yuncheng stepped out from behind Chen Yansen and greeted with a smile.

“Oh my, Little Orange, I was just about to call you to ask where you were—your uncle worried you couldn’t get a ticket,” Auntie grabbed Song Yuncheng, smiling warmly.

“And this young man?” Auntie turned her gaze back to Chen Yansen.

“He’s my…” Song Yuncheng hesitated, unsure whether to say classmate or boss.

Chen Yansen stepped forward, smiling: “Auntie, I’m Little Orange’s boyfriend, Chen Yansen—call me Xiao Chen.”

“Hey! Chen Yansen, don’t make things up!” Song Yuncheng panicked, tiptoeing to cover his mouth.

Besides, “Little Orange” was a nickname only family used.

Chen Yansen, shut up!

Song Yuncheng rushed to correct him, terrified Auntie would misunderstand.

“Auntie, Little Orange’s shy—you understand,” Chen Yansen smiled and explained.

“Little Orange, Auntie’s not some old-fashioned prude—dating is a good thing. Xiao Chen, come in, sit down.”

Auntie assumed Song Yuncheng was just bashful, warmly ushering Chen Yansen into the main room and hurrying to fetch tea leaves.

“Chen Yansen, why did you lie? Auntie believes you now!” Song Yuncheng kicked him, furious.

“You confessed to me last time—I accepted. Aren’t we boyfriend and girlfriend?” Chen Yansen brought up the past, grinning mischievously.

At that moment, a tall, slender young man walked out of the bedroom, saw Song Yuncheng, and immediately grinned.

“Little Orange, you’re finally done with school—wanna play flying chess with me?” The young man resembled Song Yuncheng slightly, spoke oddly, and smiled with childlike innocence.

“Brother, I brought you toys and workbooks,” Song Yuncheng forgot about arguing with Chen Yansen, rushed to open her suitcase, and pulled out the prepared items.

“Xiao Chen, you’ve figured it out, right? Little Orange’s brother has… issues,” Auntie placed a cup of hot water on the table, gestured for Chen Yansen to drink, and tapped her own head.

“Is it due to illness?” Chen Yansen asked.

Song Yuncheng had mentioned her brother had attended university and won scholarships every year—he wasn’t born this way.

“Didn’t Little Orange tell you?” Auntie paused, then thought: since she’d brought Chen Yansen home, she probably didn’t plan to hide it.

Chen Yansen nodded—he now understood why Song Yuncheng was so frugal, why she starved herself despite earning four or five thousand a month.

“When Little Orange was in her second year of high school, the house wiring aged and caught fire at night. By the time we noticed, Little Orange was lying outside the door.”

Auntie’s eyes welled up as she spoke, choked twice, then continued: “Xunnuo woke up first, carried his sister out, then went back to save Mom and Dad—but inhaled too much toxic gas. The doctors said it was toxic encephalopathy; now his intelligence is like a six- or seven-year-old’s.”

“What about Little Orange’s parents?” Chen Yansen asked quietly.

“Didn’t make it,” Auntie answered bluntly.

Chen Yansen looked at Song Xunnuo—his face was clean, his clothes modest but neat and tidy; clearly, over the years, Auntie had been caring for both Song Yuncheng and her brother.

“Little Orange’s a hard worker—she took part-time jobs since sophomore year. But that boss of hers? A real piece of trash—dumping endless tasks on her, making her skip meals.” Auntie fumed.

Every family had its struggles; Song Yuncheng knew Auntie’s household relied entirely on Uncle’s truck-driving job, plus two elementary-school kids—she couldn’t just live off them for free.

After her parents died and her brother fell ill, Song Yuncheng—who’d once been a strong student—ended up barely passing into a second-tier university.

Uncle and Auntie urged her to retake the exam; she refused.

Hearing this, Chen Yansen smiled knowingly—given Song Yuncheng’s stubborn nature, it was only natural she’d refuse.

“Your aunt doesn’t oppose you two dating—I’m telling you this to prepare you mentally, and also to say that if you can’t handle Xiao Chengzi’s burdens, be honest with her—don’t let her get too hurt.” Her aunt sighed deeply and gave him a serious warning.

She knew her niece carried too heavy a burden—anyone who married her would have to support an extra “son,” and no ordinary family would agree.

She didn’t want Song Yuncheng to reach the point of marriage only for Chen Yansen to suddenly back out; better to speak plainly now, for everyone’s benefit.

“I understand.” Chen Yansen said nothing, waving to Song Yuncheng.

“Brother, play by yourself for a bit.” Song Yuncheng soothed her brother, then walked up to Chen Yansen.

“I’ll go pick up Wang Yun and Wang Yu at school,” her aunt said, leaving the main room to them and riding her electric scooter toward the town’s elementary school.

Wang Yun and Wang Yu were Song Yuncheng’s cousin and cousin brother; their school was less than eight hundred meters from home, one in sixth grade, the other in fifth—no need for pickup.

Her aunt did this simply to give them space to talk.

“I never thought about dating or marrying. My life belongs to my brother—he saved me, and I must care for him.” Song Yuncheng looked at her brother and spoke softly.

Song Xuanno crouched on the ground, playing flying checkers by himself, deaf to the commotion beside him.

“He certainly doesn’t want you to live like this your whole life,” Chen Yansen said firmly.

“But I can only live like this my whole life,” Song Yuncheng laughed lightly, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Life isn’t as bad as you think. Work hard for me, and in a year or two, I’ll guarantee you save a few million.”

Chen Yansen smiled to comfort her.

This time, he didn’t say, “Be my part-time girlfriend—I’ll pay you X ten thousand a month.”

He was a rogue, but not a beast.

“Last month Zhang Yifeng only made fifty thousand—how could I possibly earn a few million in two years?” Song Yuncheng felt warmth in her heart, but didn’t believe him aloud.

“You’re my number one employee—if you can’t make money, who else will follow me?” Chen Yansen retorted with a smirk.

(End of Chapter)