The group had lunch at the hotel.

This time, Yan Zhikai truly went all out—most dishes were luxuries the students rarely tasted. Egged on by Old Mei and Fu Bai, he even brought several bottles of liquor. Shu Yuxin didn’t recognize the brand, but the lavish packaging screamed *expensive*.

Sadly, nearly everyone at the table avoided alcohol. Old Mei circled with his glass, coaxing drinks, but no one budged. In the end, all they could do was watch Old Mei and Fu Bai chug away—together, and still not done.

“Stop drinking, damn it!” Yan Zhikai finally snapped, snatching the bottle Old Mei was guzzling straight from the mouth. Liquor spilled down Old Mei’s neck into his T-shirt, making him shudder.

“And you! Fu Gou—put that bottle down!” He slammed the bottle on the table and jabbed a finger at Fu Bai beside Old Mei, eyes sharp like he’d throw a punch any second. “Did I bring you here to chug bottles? You planning to go out this afternoon or not?”

Old Mei wiped his mouth with a grin. “You’re underestimating us! This little booze? No way we’d get drunk.”

“Check your face first before talking—damn, you look like Guan Gong.” Yan Zhikai sat back, placing the bottle firmly on the floor. Message sent.

Sensing tension, Old Mei shrugged and patted Fu Bai’s shoulder. “Hehe, fine. We’ll continue tonight. Eat first, eat first.”

Across the table, Jiang Zixuan shifted his gaze to Shu Yuxin beside him. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Her bowl held only one piece of chicken—the first she’d taken. After peeling off the skin, she hadn’t touched it. Eyes fixed blankly on the large bowl of fish soup in the center, motionless.

Startled by his voice, she poked the chicken with her chopsticks. “Full.”

“Really?” Jiang Zixuan frowned slightly, unconvinced. “How much did you eat?”

She shot him a glance and stayed silent.

Half the dishes remained untouched. Jiang Zixuan stared at the table quietly. “Nothing here you like?”

No reply.

He sighed. “Aren’t you scared of starving?”

*Now I get why her parents say she’s hard to raise.*

“None of your business,” Shu Yuxin muttered, rolling her eyes.

The lavish lunch ended when everyone set down chopsticks and grabbed phones. Dishes were nearly cleared—only the untouched liquor bottle beside Old Mei remained. He reached for it several times, but each time Yan Zhikai’s glance flicked his way, his hand retreated.

As club president, Yan Zhikai still held that quiet authority.

After lunch, Zhang Houlin suggested resting—they’d traveled hard all morning. But excitement ran high. Old Mei and Fu Bai looked ready to sprint straight to the roller coasters. So the group skipped rooms entirely and rushed toward Leiteer Paradise Park.

Only to get hit with a bucket of icy foot-wash water.

The queue at the gate stretched beyond sight.

Peng Xiaoxiao gaped. “This long?! How long till we get in?”

“Might not make it in today,” Old Mei mused, chin in hand, frowning seriously.

“Worried? With me here?” Yan Zhikai sauntered over, tilted his head, scanned the group, and waved. “Follow me. VIP line.”

Peng Xiaoxiao blinked. “VIP? Wow, President—you’re a VIP? Isn’t that crazy expensive?”

“Don’t let Kai’s looks fool you,” Wei Zhanpeng whispered close to her. “He seems like a chubby otaku, but he’s loaded.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Zhang Houlin chuckled. “‘A chubby otaku’s cash wall buys a Third Ring Road apartment in the capital’—that’s Kai. We commoners? No comparison.”

Yan Zhikai’s voice cut in from ahead: “What’s wrong with chubby otaku? Did I eat your family’s rice?”

“Haha, I was *praising* you!” Zhang Houlin laughed, waving as he followed.

Shu Yuxin and Jiang Zixuan trailed behind. She clicked her tongue watching the endless regular line. “So many people…”

“Holidays get busier every year,” Jiang Zixuan smiled. “You only went to that anime convention once in junior high, right? You’ll get used to it.”

“Says you. That con was packed too. I’m just stating a fact.” She shrugged.

His smile deepened. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” He paused. “Were you *actually* full earlier?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”

“Want to grab something?”

“Nah. Not hungry now. Later.”

He nodded, dropping it.

Leiteer Paradise Park’s VIP entrance sat right beside the regular one. VIP status meant skipping queues—other perks were minor (like noticeably prettier receptionists at the VIP counter…). Costly, sold yearly. Useful only on holidays. Low value? Most queued anyway. This privilege was purely for the filthy rich.

VIPs could bring up to nine guests per visit with day-pass privileges—but tickets had to be pre-booked online at 1.1x price. Yan Zhikai covered it all.

After collecting tickets, Yan Zhikai handed them out slowly to the chattering group. Last was Peng Xiaoxiao. He turned to Wei Zhanpeng—empty-handed. Ten silent seconds.

Wei Zhanpeng, mid-convo with Peng Xiaoxiao about rides, froze. “…My ticket?”

“You want one?” Yan Zhikai tilted his head, slapped his palm with a crisp *pat*. “Gone.”

“But you said—”

“I said I’d treat *you all*,” Yan Zhikai crossed his arms. “You showed up *this morning*? Pre-orders sold out ages ago—what, you thought I’d magic one up?”

Wei Zhanpeng flushed.

“He… can’t go in?” Peng Xiaoxiao gripped her ticket nervously.

Yan Zhikai studied Wei Zhanpeng—looking like a scolded kid—then nodded slowly. “He can. Buy on-site. Double price.”

(A park rule to curb VIP resale. Loopholes existed, but the park profited either way: pay double, skip the line.)

For a cash-strapped student? Tough call.

Wei Zhanpeng hesitated. He’d defied his dad just to be here with her. He *could* pay… but the next two weeks would mean eating dirt.

“Can’t afford it?” Peng Xiaoxiao bit her lip. “I can help—”

“No need,” Yan Zhikai waved her off. “I’ll cover it. Just scaring him. Next time? Decide *early*. Dragging feet makes things messy.”

Wei Zhanpeng bowed his head. “Sorry.”

Yan Zhikai nodded, satisfied, and turned to buy the ticket.

The onlookers finally murmured.

“Yan Zhikai’s kinda strict…” Shu Yuxin elbowed Jiang Zixuan. “Remind you of our high school homeroom teacher?”

“Nope.”

“Huh? I think he’s *spiritually* similar.”

“Nah,” Jiang Zixuan shook his head. “He’s not petty enough.”

Shu Yuxin: “…True.”

Zhang Houlin chuckled. “That’s just Kai. You’ll get used to him.”