"Okay, but he doesn’t know that’s desperate. He thinks that’s just how rich people talk, probably."
"That is not how anyone talks, Nuocheng."
"Details." He waved his fork around dismissively. "The point is, I have to go back. Slowly. Casually. Like a normal person who just happens to shop there now."
"At a supermarket. Fifteen minutes from your actual house, which I know for a fact has a full staff of people who could buy your groceries for you."
"It’s for the customer research." Nuocheng said it primly, chin lifted, like the words alone could make it true. "I’m checking on our product placement. It’s practically my job."
"Uh huh." Dai An’s tone made it very clear she wasn’t buying a single word of it. "And if this Han Sicheng happens to be working whenever you show up for your very important customer research, that’s just a coincidence."
"Exactly."
"You’re so unserious, oh my god." But she was laughing again, softer this time, fond underneath the teasing. "Fine. Go do your customer research. Very thorough of you."
"Thank you."
"Speaking of unserious, guess who texted me again."
Nuocheng perked up immediately, grateful for the change of subject even as he was thoroughly invested. "Wait, don’t tell me — Jiaxin?"
"Jiaxin," Dai An confirmed, sounding equal parts exasperated and resigned. "Third time this month. Woman broke up with me over text and somehow still thinks she gets to check in on my life like nothing happened."
"What did she want?"
"Wanted to know if I was seeing anyone new. As if that’s her business anymore." She scoffed, though something tired crept in underneath it, something that didn’t quite match her usual bite. "It’s giving unresolved feelings, and I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with her nonsense before a six a.m. sleeve appointment."
"Block her."
"I did blocked her. Twice. She keeps making new numbers." She sighed, the sound heavier than before.
"Anyway, enough about my mess." Dai An’s voice softened, some of the earlier bite fading. "I’m gonna crash soon, and you probably should too. Don’t you have that big meeting coming up?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. Product review with the regional managers."
"Sleep while you can, then. Trust me." A yawn crept into her voice, the exhaustion of an early morning already catching up to her. "Go to bed, Nuocheng."
"Fine, fine." He smiled down at his empty plate, something a little more sincere settling under all the earlier chaos. "Thanks, An."
"Anytime. Go get him, though. For real." A pause, softer than her usual tone. "You deserve someone that meets your standards, you built yourself so why settle for less."
"Goodnight."
Sicheng closed the register just past three, the last of the receipts tallied and locked away. Two hours of sleep, if the trains cooperated.
He walked to the station with his mind already running through the numbers waiting for him once he got home, tallying gigs and shifts out of habit more than necessity at this point.
The train sat nearly empty at that hour. He rode it back to his shared apartment downtown, head resting against the glass, eyes closed for most of the way.
He’d been hoping for peace and quiet when he got home. Instead, he heard it the moment he opened the door, his roommate deep in the middle of getting railed on the living room couch by whoever he’d brought home this time.
Sicheng exhaled through his nose, irritation crawling up his spine. Every single day, this apartment smelled like sex, like he was living in some cheap motel instead of a place he actually paid rent for.
"Sicheng!" His roommate’s voice carried across the room, breathless and pleased with himself. "You wanna join?"
Sicheng looked at him coldly from the doorway.
"Don’t ever say that bullshit to my face again."
He walked past them without another word, shutting himself into his room hard enough to rattle the frame.
Through the wall, his roommate hissed something about him being a prickly bastard before the noise picked back up, clearly disappointed at having failed to recruit a second dick for the night.
Sicheng sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, letting the irritation settle before he reached under it for the small lockbox he kept there.
He fed the day’s cash into the automated safe, a little over two thousand rmb between his two shifts, added to whatever already sat inside.
It could go far.
It could also vanish in an instant against everything waiting on the other side of it.
His tuition was due soon, and his sister’s expenses ate through more of his income most months than his own did, her rent, her cost of living, the cram school and tutors that came with her final year of high school.
She was eighteen now, living on her own back in their hometown so she could focus on her studies without distraction. Her gaokao was approaching fast, and that meant spending he couldn’t avoid no matter how tight money got on his end.
She had wanted to keep working a part-time job to help cover some of it herself. He’d told her to stop. The exam demanded her full attention, and covering the rest was his responsibility as her older brother.
He always found a way.
He had to.
His own tuition, at least, remained manageable for now. Being a finance major meant he rarely stopped seeing the numbers, even when he wanted to, costs and projections laid out in his head like a ledger that never fully closed.
He was a sophomore, and if he kept his focus, graduation wasn’t far off.
He showered once he finally made it into his room properly, the hot water doing little to loosen the exhaustion sitting deep in his shoulders.
By the time he collapsed into bed, sleep felt less like rest and more like a countdown against the few hours he had left before his next shift.
His mind drifted back to the man from earlier despite himself, replaying the memory in full even though he wanted nothing more than to forget it.
The tailored suit that had clearly cost more than his monthly rent. The way the stranger had looked him over so openly, calculating something Sicheng still couldn’t quite believe he’d said out loud.
The utter sincerity behind a request that should have gotten him laughed out of the store.
He fell asleep still thinking, half amused despite the exhaustion, that he probably could have sold the man his sperm for fifty million and the lunatic would have paid it without blinking.