Chapter Twenty: Young Master Chu, the Capitalist

Stepping off the bus felt like walking into a desert.

Lu Mingfei stood outside "Open Mind," fanning himself with a small hand fan he had taken from a woman on the roadside. The fan featured an advertisement for a local men’s health clinic; the front displayed the hospital's name and its "highly professional" medical team, while the back told a short story about how someone had regained their "former glory" thanks to the miraculous skills of the clinic’s doctors.

The bus loop took about forty minutes. Lu Mingfei, not wearing a watch, guessed it wasn't yet three o'clock and stood by the door, waiting for his senior.

After a while, a hand rested on his shoulder, making him jump.

"Damn, are you a ghost?" He turned around to find Chu Zihang. "Where did you pop up from?"

"I’ve been inside the coffee shop," Chu Zihang replied. "I saw you arrive and even waved at you, but you didn't see me."

"You came so early? I thought I was early."

"Well, I live quite close to this shop. It was my oversight. Next time we meet, I’ll choose a place closer to your home."

"No need for such trouble, keep it casual, just casual," Lu Mingfei said, waving his hands dismissively.

"Fine, we can discuss that later. Let’s not stand outside like idiots." Chu Zihang tilted his head toward the shop. "Let’s go in and talk."

Lu Mingfei followed him inside. A string of wind chimes hung over the door, emitting a delicate clatter of glass and metal as they pushed through. Lu Mingfei glanced around. Perhaps because they were in a different timeline, the decor differed slightly from when he had visited with Chen Wenwen in his previous life, though the overall style remained similar.

Chu Zihang stopped at the counter. "What would you like to drink? My treat."

Lu Mingfei stared at the menu, a mix of Chinese and English, feeling dizzy. Despite spending three years at a university in America, he had never developed a taste for coffee and couldn't tell one variety from another, recognizing only Americanos and lattes.

Back in his sophomore year, when he met Zhao Menghua, Chen Wenwen, and Xu Yuanyuan at Starbucks, Zhao Menghua had mocked him for being such a bumpkin that he couldn't even order a drink after two years in the States. Xu Yuanyuan and the others had laughed along, while Chen Wenwen tugged at Zhao Menghua’s sleeve, signaling him to stop. Lu Mingfei hadn't bothered to respond, only rolling his eyes internally and thinking that Zhao thought far too highly of these foreign trinkets. Students at Cassel College didn't care for this fancy foreign soy milk; their favorite liquid breakfast was sweet tofu pudding and spicy soup.

"I don't really drink coffee. How about you pick something for me?"

"Sure." Chu Zihang nodded to the barista. "One iced Americano and one cappuccino. Use the Ethiopian beans for the Americano. For the cappuccino, use the Italian blend—keep the bitterness and acidity low. Both with plenty of ice. And two Swiss rolls."

Watching the young Master Chu rattle off professional jargon, Lu Mingfei thought that the "Poker-faced Senior" certainly earned his place on the "Kill on Sight" list—he carried the air of a capitalist entirely too well.

When he saw Chu Zihang lay two hundred-yuan bills on the counter and say, "Keep the change as a tip," that thought solidified.

"Isn't that a bit too generous, Senior Chu?" As they sat down in a corner booth, Lu Mingfei said with a tinge of distress, "Two coffees and two Swiss rolls cost 140 yuan?"

"Your drink was reasonably priced; mine was more expensive because of the Ethiopian beans. If I’d ordered Geisha beans, it would have been even pricier. I wanted to let you try it, but I was afraid you might not be used to it, so I got you a milk-based coffee instead."

"What about the other 60 yuan? That’s a small fortune! You just handed it away as a tip?"

"The barista is a graduate from our school, Shilan High. She’s studying at a local university and comes from a modest background, working here to support her studies," Chu Zihang explained. "I don't miss that 60 yuan, but it’s a day and a half’s wages for her."

Lu Mingfei paused. "You know her?"

"Not really. I just saw her a few times when I was organizing scholarship documents in the student council during my third year of middle school. She was a senior then, three grades ahead of me."

"You remember her just from sorting papers?" Lu Mingfei asked skeptically. "Don't tell me you have a crush on her?"

"I didn't know you before either, but I remembered you," Chu Zihang said quietly.

Lu Mingfei was stunned. He found that remark strange and oddly unsettling, so he shifted his chair back until it hit the wall.

"Why are you moving back?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just like to keep some distance when talking to people," Lu Mingfei said, laughing it off. "Anyway, Senior Chu, what did you want to talk about? How did you get my QQ number? And aren't you supposed to have classes today?"

Chu Zihang froze. "Which question should I answer first?"

"Any of them will do."

"Right," Chu Zihang nodded. "We do have classes this afternoon, but I took leave. I found your QQ on the Shilan High forum; there’s some information about you there. It's quite comprehensive."

"My information?" Lu Mingfei was puzzled. "Why would there be info about me on the Shilan forum?"

"You'll understand when you see it."

"I can't get online right now. I'll check when I get back," Lu Mingfei said. Having grown accustomed to the ubiquitous Wi-Fi and 4G signals of his future life, returning to 2006 felt like being cast back into a primitive society.

"Fine. It’s nothing you absolutely have to see, though. In fact, I’d advise you not to," Chu Zihang said.

Hearing his poker-faced senior say that only made Lu Mingfei more curious about what the forum said.

The barista, wearing a white uniform, brought over a tray and set down the coffee and Swiss rolls. Lu Mingfei took a sip of the frothy cappuccino, and his tongue curled back as if electrocuted. The coffee was nowhere near as good as it looked—it tasted like a spilled pot of traditional medicine. Looking at Chu Zihang, who was drinking his pitch-black iced Americano without a change in expression, Lu Mingfei couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration. Capitalist heirs were just built differently.

"Ancient Chinese people liked to pair strong tea with very sweet pastries. You could try eating it with the Swiss roll; it might make it easier to swallow," Chu Zihang suggested.

"Forget it, I'll try it later," Lu Mingfei said, sitting up straight. "Let’s get down to business. Why did you want to see me?"

In truth, Lu Mingfei had already guessed what Chu Zihang would ask—likely something about Cassel College. Ever since he escaped the Nibelungen, he knew this day would come. He had hesitated at first, wondering if he should tell him. As Chu Zihang’s father had once said, perhaps one was happier not knowing these things. If his senior hadn't joined Cassel College, he probably would have met a suitable, brilliant girl in university, fallen in love, and walked down the aisle—instead of spending his life risking it, clashing blades with Dragon Lords as he had in the past life.

"Ignorance is bliss," as they say.

But after pondering for several days, Lu Mingfei decided his senior had the right to know. He would leave the choice to him. If Chu Zihang came to him, he would tell him everything.

"Alright," Chu Zihang began. "I'll tell you."