This meal left me feeling slightly embarrassed.

We’d ordered six dishes total: three meat, two vegetable, one soup.

To most guys, “three meat, two veg, one soup” might seem like standard fast-food fare. But this was a hotel—every portion dwarfed roadside diner servings.

Take this braised beef. A whole platter of tender, juicy chunks. I recalled it cost over seventy yuan. Same with the greens beside it. Just these two would’ve filled Wang Lei and me. Not to mention the offal and lamb hotpot…

Honestly, by now, Wang Lei had spent far more on me than my rental fee from the Hua Li Mao platform.

Taxi fares. Park tickets. Entertainment. And this near-400-yuan “fast food” feast at a high-end hotel.

“You eat so cutely,” Wang Lei said, handing me a tissue. Amused by my slightly wolfing-down pace, he added, “Like a little hungry kitten.”

“Don’t like me this way?” I took the tissue, pouting. “I walked six hours—*six*—through that huge park with you! I was starving.”

“Ahaha, sorry! Got so excited I forgot lunch,” Wang Lei waved both hands. “But seriously—it’s good. ‘Cute’ wasn’t an insult. I like girls like you. Natural. Unpretentious.”

“Our manager said five minutes… Waiter!”

As he waved the waiter over, a trace of sadness flickered in Wang Lei’s eyes. “When I was tiny, I dreamed of exploring every corner of Shuiming Park. Mom was still here then. Dad was always too busy.”

“He’d say: ‘Work hard young. Play later. When you grow up, you can play all you want.’”

After scanning the QR code, Wang Lei gazed out the window. “He was right. Now I *can* play anytime. But childhood friends are gone. No matter how I play now… it lacks that old flavor.”

“Only now do I get it: digging sweet potatoes behind the hill with friends, building a mud oven to roast those tiny, pitiful spuds—waiting so eagerly for one bite. That memory tastes nothing like buying a big sweet potato casually on the street today.”

“Back then, I’d gather friends to play hide-and-seek at Yezhu Ming Park, hike and explore. Now? High school classmates won’t join. College friends’d think I’m hitting on them. Childhood buddies left the city. So… I could only ask you.”

After paying, Wang Lei stayed seated, voice thick with emotion.

“Graduated. Dream fulfilled. Guess it’s time to step into life’s ‘grave.’ In ten years, I’ll probably run Dad’s factory—become the ‘big boss’ Liang Zhiming jokes about.”

“Dad’s setting up blind dates. Supposedly his biggest partner’s daughter. See? I don’t even choose my girlfriend. Will she scorn my hobbies? Ban gaming, anime, skating, fishing? All unknown. Like a gamble.”

“I can only say this to you. If I told Liang Zhiming’s crew, those jerks’d call me whiny. Heh…”

Wang Lei sighed deeply and stood.

“Let’s go. Your clothes should be here soon.”

“…”

Following him out the hotel door, I paused.

“Thank you.”

Wang Lei turned. “Huh?”

“Thank you,” I murmured, avoiding his eyes. “For the day. For telling me all that.”

“What’re you thinking?” He looked genuinely surprised. “I hired you to listen. Who else has time for my rambling? It’s a transaction.”

“Yeah. A transaction.”

I lifted my chin. “Then… thank you for all the clothes!”

“Tch. Where’s your queenly aura from this morning? Shouldn’t you say, ‘This princess condescendingly accepts’?”

“That’s not queenly. It’s tsundere.”

“Never get you anime fans.”

“Says the guy who totally is one.”

“…”

A sports car pulled up.

“Hey kid! Skipping work to chase girls?”

The door swung open. A sunglasses-wearing man strode over, swept 180cm-tall Wang Lei up with a *whoosh*, spun him once midair, and set him down.

“Uncle Wang.” Wang Lei coughed lightly. “Clothes?”

“Brought ’em! Doubt your Uncle Wang?”

“So this is your new girlfriend? Your dad’ll kill you.”

Uncle Wang opened the rear door.

“Most are factory leftovers—priced too high. We’re discontinuing this line. Cosplay girls care about looks, not comfort. Aunt Liang complains customers whine on her Taobao store about prices.”

“This is Rem’s cosplay outfit. Kurumi Tokisaki’s school uniform. This… Lolita Dreamland set. And…”

He pulled out bundle after bundle, then several elegant shoeboxes. “Your girlfriend’s got curves. 160cm tall but size 32 shoes? First time I’ve seen it. Lucky we specialize—else Uncle Wang couldn’t source these.”

“All genuine leather. Handmade by our oldest craftsmen. Sat unsold nearly a year.”

Squatting before me, Uncle Wang spoke with veteran ease: “Crystal Source Lolita block-heel Mary Janes, aqua blue, 5cm—perfect with Lolita dresses. Sweet House Party flats, brown—daily wear. These match Rem’s cosplay: maid shoes. Sold well back in ’27 when *Re:Zero* blew up.”

“School shoes for Kurumi’s uniform. Tights. Two thigh-high pairs… white. Garter stockings. Mostly velvet. November’s chilly.”

I froze. This burly, black-clad, sunglasses-wearing man—who looked straight out of a triad movie—calmly detailing girls’ fashion?

Is this… “gap moe”?

“Xiao Xue, take them all,” Wang Lei said awkwardly. “Try later. If they don’t fit or you dislike them, gift or sell online. Materials are premium. Wear casually at home.”

“Um…”

Earlier, I’d mentally vowed: *Wang Lei’s a rich guy—scam all I can*. But guilt pricked me now. “Too much… I’ll just take Rem’s outfit.”

“Listen, little miss,” Uncle Wang looked up, shades glinting. “Don’t be polite with Wang Lei—he hates it. These are leftovers. Some sat two years. Size 32? Never seen feet this small. Made by market research error. If you refuse, we’ll discount heavily anyway.”

“But I…” I gestured to my tiny bag. “Can’t carry it all.”

“Uncle prepared this.” He hauled a large suitcase from the trunk, grinning. “Wash them after. All hand-wash safe.”

“…”

Around 8 PM, under firm insistence from Wang Lei and Uncle Wang, I dragged the overstuffed suitcase into a taxi.

Uncle Wang offered to drive me back, but I declined—stepping from this luxury car at campus gates would surely spark rumors.

Before I left, Wang Lei added softly:

“If Liang Zhiming books you again… gently comfort him. He’s heartbroken. As his brother, this is all I can do.”

Campus was fully dark. Moon and stars peeked faintly through clouds.

Tree-lined paths swarmed with couples strolling hand-in-hand.

Nearby, tank-top-clad boys chased youth across the basketball court.

“You can spend your life with your games! No more excuses—I’m done!”

“Get lost!”

I’d just dragged my suitcase inside when Chen Xiaorui burst out the dorm door.

Tears shimmered in her eyes. After one helpless glance at me, she fled toward the stairwell.

“What happened…”

Snapping awake, I saw she’d vanished downstairs. I stepped in with my suitcase. “Another fight with her boyfriend?”

“Obviously,” Song Huijie said, wrapped in a damp towel post-shower. “Phones till midnight daily. Thought they were perfect. *Pfft*.”

“Guys love games—it’s unavoidable. Chen Xiaorui just can’t accept feeling less important than pixels in his heart,” Jiang Yuqing, our e-commerce monitor, removed her headphones and shot me an encouraging look.

“Maybe… Xiao Xue, you should go comfort her?”