Friday, September 5th

After that incident, senior Li Jianlian skipped two days of class. I thought something serious had happened, but thankfully, he finally showed up at school on Friday.

He claimed it was a sick leave. The school didn’t make a fuss, so I guess Uncle Lei Luo didn’t report anything to them after all.

That afternoon, instead of heading to our usual secret base, Zhao Zhao and I went up to the third floor to pull senior out of his classroom—we wanted to talk to him about the plan. He didn’t refuse, just brought his lunchbox along and followed us to the stairwell right before the rooftop. The three of us sat down on the steps to eat.

Zhao Zhao and I were still munching on the usual convenience store bread and juice. Meanwhile, Senior’s meal was a modest vegetarian bento, but it had variety and looked way more appetizing than our dry pineapple buns.

Getting arrested must’ve hit him hard, right? But… huh, strangely enough, he looked better than before—no more eye bags, no more dark circles. His whole face seemed fresher. He was even kinda handsome, honestly.

“That officer bro already told me everything. Thanks for speaking up on my behalf.”

I froze for a second. I figured the “officer” he meant was Uncle Lei Luo. He’d be over the moon hearing someone call him “bro.” He’s been hung up for the longest time over the fact that Sis Yuanyue gets called “Sis” while he’s stuck with “Uncle.”

“No big deal. But you really didn’t know that company was running a loan shark scam?”

“Not at all. I had just finished the interview and hadn’t even touched the job yet. Before I knew what was going on, the cops had already stormed in.”

He shook his head, then sighed deeply. “But honestly? It was kinda sketchy. The pay was ridiculously high for a part-time gig. I guess I was just gambling on luck.”

Zhao Zhao finished his bread in three bites, folded the wrapper neatly, and tossed it into the hallway trash can.

“So what now, senior? Still planning to work part-time? I overheard—you got pulled in for a talk with your homeroom teacher, right? If you keep working, they might even punish you…”

“Yeah, that’s what they said. But I have to keep working… Wait a sec, wasn’t that during class?”

“Ahem. I stepped out to use the restroom.”

“Aren’t you a second-year? You had to hike up three floors just to pee?”

I was about to ask the same thing, but then it hit me—he probably overheard it when Xiao Lei was sneaking out of campus. I picked up the thread: “He just ditched class to slack off… Anyway, senior, your family situation probably doesn’t give you the luxury of quitting work, right?”

He shoveled a couple bites of plain white rice into his mouth and mumbled as he chewed: “Yeah, there’s no way I can stop. Our family’s barely scraping by. And I’ve got to save up for college tuition… Wait—did Lingmeng tell you about my situation?”

“Come on, do I look like I have a little sister?” I waved him off and took off the giant dorky glasses I’d been wearing. I gave a wry smile. “That was me—at the bookstore with Rinka, at Aqua World eating stir-fried noodles—that was all me. Surprised?”

His answer came in the form of pure instinct.

He took a sharp inhale straight from his gut, and with a muffled “pffft,” shot a few sticky grains of half-chewed rice right out of his nose.

He was sitting two steps above me. Factoring in the rice’s trajectory, arc, air resistance, and kinetic decay, I came to a very clear conclusion: if I didn’t dodge, that rice was going straight into my hair.

In that split second, I channeled Keanu Reeves, bending backward dodging bullets like in the Matrix. The grains flew right past my eyes and splattered onto the hallway wall.

But just as I was about to feel triumphant, my body tilted and—bam—I tumbled down the stairs.

Thankfully, Zhao Zhao, who was sitting on a lower rung, caught me just in time. If he hadn’t, I would’ve definitely scraped something.

“You’ve got a fractured leg and you’re pulling off stunts like that? You trying out for the Paralympics?”

This jerk. Always with the sass.

Senior, putting his lunchbox aside, quickly apologized.

“Sorry, sorry! I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”

He was genuinely flustered from choking—eyes watery and everything.

“But seriously, you don’t look the least bit like a guy with that face.”

“That’s why I wear these stupidly big glasses—to hide it.”

I put them back on and got back to the main topic.

“The reason we wanted to talk to you today—there’s actually a senior from the neighboring girls’ campus who heard about your situation and came up with an idea. I think it’s pretty solid.”

“Senior… From the girls' campus?” Li Jianlian blinked, confused. He clearly couldn’t connect the dots from the two years he spent in the boys’ campus.

“She’s a third-year at the girls’ campus next door. The night you got arrested, we happened to be having dinner at a nearby Sichuan place.”

“So I made a total fool of myself, huh.” He laughed weakly. “Anyway, what’s her idea?”

I explained what Sis Fei had said about university scholarships. But before I even finished, he shook his head.

“I don’t think that’ll work.”

Even he didn’t believe in it—let alone his mom. I was genuinely puzzled.

“Why not? Aren’t your grades pretty good? It’d be such a waste if you didn’t keep studying.”

“It’s simple. I can’t guarantee I’d get a scholarship. Sure, I might do well in this school—but that doesn’t mean much outside of it.”

Good grades are always relative. Once you’re up against real geniuses, getting a scholarship isn’t a sure thing. He wasn’t being pessimistic—just realistic.

“So what’s your plan then, senior?”

“I’m hoping to save up enough money before college entrance exams. Not just tuition for four years—I want to leave something for my family too.”

That… was ambitious. For a high schooler limited to part-time jobs, it bordered on fantasy.

“Just make sure you don’t land yourself in another shady gig,” Zhao Zhao jabbed.

Oof. Right on the sore spot. Senior’s expression went rigid like he was trying to hold in a sneeze.

“But I do know a place that pays super well. I’ve heard the hourly rate can go up to a hundred yuan. And it’s legit. Probably. Maybe… kinda legit?”

Why did that sound like a question? That kind of shaky tone was not reassuring.

I played along. “And where exactly would one find such a magically high-paying job?”

“The underground mall in the Tianping commercial district. There’s this manga café called Kamehameha—you’ve heard of it, right?”

Wait, that Kamehameha?!

It’s practically legendary among the guys. But the prices are crazy steep—I’ve never had the guts to set foot in there. Zhao Zhao, on the other hand, is apparently a premium member.

He even has access to the back rooms... Unbelievable. This guy’s just another broke kid from the urban village, yet he managed to grind his way into VIP status?

Senior blinked. “Kame... what now?”

“Kamehameha.”

“Kamehame... huh?”

“Kamehameha!!”

Still lost. Zhao Zhao scratched his head, clearly frustrated.

“How do I explain this…? Just think of it as a café where you read coffee—no wait, drink manga—no, that’s not it either.”

Zhao Zhao was clearly hopeless at explaining. I stepped in.

“I’ve never been there myself, but it’s basically a manga bookstore and a café rolled into one. Since you’ve worked in both bookstores and coffee shops, it might be a good fit for you.”

Senior nodded, packing up his lunch. “Actually, yeah. I’ve got experience in both.”

“Innocent fool! Sweeter than Tianjin sugar-roasted chestnuts!¹”

Zhao Zhao suddenly sprang up, towering over us with his 1.9m frame and full-on dramatic energy.

“Don’t you dare underestimate the sacred art of manga café work, you b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲! The boss has been suffering, I tell you, suffering, because he can’t find the right person!”

“...Oh,” Senior said, clearly unsure how to respond.

“First, you need a working knowledge of the manga collection—only then can you properly connect with the customers. And second, you need to heal their hearts from the trauma of the real world!”

“If you know so much and the pay’s that good, why don’t you work there?”

Seriously—hundred-yuan hourly rate? I’d take that gig in a heartbeat!

“Because—” He paused, then turned to Senior with an awkward expression.

“—Kamehameha only hires cute, young girls.”