Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

Jiangnan University, third lecture hall.

The public classes at 8 a.m. are always noisy, like boiling water.

Zhang Yan slid in through the back door.

He habitually walked to the corner of the last row. It was a blind spot for the surveillance cameras, a perfect place to slack off, and the ideal spot to ponder whether to use rock sugar or brown sugar for tonight's sweet and sour pork ribs.

Something's not right today.

As soon as he stepped into the corridor, the previously buzzing voice seemed to be choked and cut off.

Dozens of eyes swept over at once.

The Zhang Yan of the past was so obscure you couldn't find him in a crowd.

Today, Zhang Yan wore a white T-shirt and black trousers. It was the simplest of outfits, yet he exuded a refined and youthful charm.

Those were the clothes Nie Qingcheng picked out.

This top Italian cashmere brand has no logo, but the soft, draping feel and the subtly shimmering fabric are instantly recognizable to connoisseurs.

In addition, there was the flushing effect of that "physical condition improvement drug".

His previously dull complexion became translucent, his back was ramrod straight, and he looked like a poplar tree that had just been rained on.

"Holy crap, who's that?"

"Zhang Yan? That can't be right, doesn't he always wear that dingy yellow delivery uniform?"

"This aura...did she get plastic surgery?"

Whispers buzzed around my ears like flies.

Zhang Yan didn't even lift his eyelids.

trouble.

Becoming handsome can also be a burden.

He just wanted to sit down quickly and mentally review the recipe.

The road is blocked.

A foot wearing a limited edition Air Jordan shoe was placed across the middle of the aisle.

Zhao Yu leaned back in his chair. He was a well-known rich kid in the class, whose family had made their fortune through land expropriation. He was covered in designer logos from head to toe.

He was fiddling with the Porsche car keys in his hand, his eyes sweeping over Zhang Yan before finally settling on the white T-shirt.

A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, isn't this our class's workaholic?"

Zhao Yu's voice was very loud; half the classroom could hear it.

"Haven't seen you for a few days, got rich? That 'Brennell' outfit must cost five or six thousand at the boutique, right?"

He paused deliberately, and a collective gasp of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

Five or six thousand for a T-shirt?

For most students, this is half a year's living expenses.

Zhao Yu was very satisfied with the effect. He stood up, reached out to touch Zhang Yan's sleeve, and wore a mocking expression:

"But Yanzi, we know each other inside and out. Your monthly allowance isn't even enough to buy a sleeve, so where did you find this fake?"

"9.9 yuan with free shipping on Pinduoduo? The design is quite realistic, but there are these loose threads..."

He didn't even see the loose thread; he was just trying to disgust people.

Some people around couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The most entertaining scenario is when a poor person suddenly becomes rich, tries to show off by wearing fake designer brands, and gets exposed.

Zhang Yan turned to the side, avoiding Zhao Yu's hand.

He looked at Zhao Yu, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pool.

There was no anger, no embarrassment.

It even carried a hint of annoyance at having one's train of thought disrupted.

This person is very noisy.

It affected his decision on the blanching time for the pork ribs.

"Make way."

Zhang Yan only said two words.

This kind of complete disregard is more unbearable than being verbally abused.

Zhao Yu's smile froze, and his anger flared up instantly.

He hated Zhang Yan's look the most.

He's clearly a penniless wretch, yet he always acts nonchalant, as if no one catches his eye.

"What are you pretending for?"

Zhao Yu strode forward, completely blocking the aisle, and raised his voice: "Wearing fakes and feeling superior? Believe me, I'll search for the same style right now and make you..."

Da, da, da.

The crisp sound of footsteps interrupted Zhao Yu's roar.

A white figure walked into the classroom.

The crowd that had been watching the play fell silent instantly, their eyes burning with excitement.

Su Wanqing.

She was the most beautiful girl in the art department and a recognized goddess at Jiangnan University.

She wasn't wearing makeup today, just her bare face, yet she was still so beautiful that it was impossible to look away.

Zhao Yu's eyes lit up, his expression instantly changed, and he greeted her with what he thought was a gentlemanly smile:

"Wanqing, over here! I saved you a seat, first row, great view..."

Su Wanqing ignored him.

He wasn't even given a glance out of the corner of his eye.

She walked straight past Zhao Yu and stopped in front of Zhang Yan.

Those usually cool and aloof eyes were now fixed on Zhang Yan's T-shirt, their gaze filled with a mixture of professional inquiry and... amazement.

She studied fashion design and is most sensitive to fabrics.

This luster, this fluid texture that appears under the light.

It is definitely not an ordinary product.

"classmate."

Su Wanqing spoke, her voice clear and melodious, like a wind chime.

The entire class fell silent.

The smile on Zhao Yu's face froze on his face before he could even wipe it away.

Zhang Yan had to stop and frown at the girl blocking his way.

Another one?

"What is it?" he asked in a cold tone.

Su Wanqing didn't mind his coldness; instead, she took a step closer and pointed her finger at his shoulder.

"Excuse me, is this dress from Cucinelli's Fall Couture collection this year?"

"I've been looking for this fabric for a long time. Only their special process can create this 'diamond dust' effect."

"Could you tell me which boutique you ordered it from?"

boom--

The classroom erupted in chaos.

There was no mockery, only shock.

Who is Su Wanqing?

The wealthy heiress from Jinghai has a sharp eye.

How could something she personally stamped and certified as "haute couture" be fake?

"Diamond Dust" effect?

That sounds ridiculously expensive!

Zhao Yu's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

One second he was mocking someone for wearing a cheap knock-off, and the next second he was publicly humiliated by the goddess.

That slap was too loud and too crisp.

He felt that the gazes around him, which had previously mocked Zhang Yan, were now like needles pricking him.

The clown was me.

Everyone was waiting for Zhang Yan's answer.

Is he admitting he's a hidden millionaire? Or is he using this opportunity to flirt with the school beauty?

Looking at Su Wanqing's expectant eyes, Zhang Yan felt a headache coming on.

Boutique?

This was something Nie Qingcheng casually tossed out of the wardrobe.

"It was a gift from someone."

Zhang Yan bypassed Su Wanqing, his tone remaining completely calm:

"No link, no store, I don't know."

After saying that, he walked straight to the corner, sat down, and took out his phone.

The screen lights up.

Enter the following in the search bar: "How to make sweet and sour pork ribs so they're not dry."

As for Su Wanqing's astonishment, Zhao Yu's resentment, and the whole class's uproar.

It's none of his business.

【Ding! 】

In my mind, a mechanical voice sounded at just the right moment.

[The host's state of mind has been detected as calm and undisturbed, perfectly ignoring this low-level provocation.]

[Reward: Charisma +1.]

Zhang Yan's fingers, which were holding the phone, paused slightly.

That's all?

Sunlight streamed in through the window and fell on his profile.

In that instant, Su Wanqing, who had originally wanted to ask a few more questions, looked at the profile of the person intently staring at the phone screen and suddenly forgot what she was going to say.

This boy.

It seems... a bit special.