A week after Zhang Qinghan broke up, Unable to stand her ex’s constant badgering any longer, she sought Li Yangyang’s help.
“Introduce me to a man.”
In the entire university town, when it came to helping people date, if Li Yangyang stepped up, the professors teaching elective courses on romance might as well hand over their jobs. The top spot among the social butterflies on campus had always belonged to Li Yangyang.
Upon receiving the call, Li Yangyang sprinted over straight from whichever handsome guy’s cozy bed she happened to be in. As a senior about to graduate, aside from chasing men, her biggest passion was playing matchmaker.
In her own words: “So what if I’m playing pimp? All those whiny women sour-graping behind my back—which of them isn’t secretly jealous of me? Job hunting is so hard these days anyway. Isn’t introducing a diamond bachelor to my best friend way better? Who cares about a standard employment contract, and what kind of security are government benefits anyway? Nothing beats getting cash straight up to buy an apartment.”
No matter whether her worldview aligned with mainstream societal values, her matchmaking had genuinely resulted in several successful matches within the department. These girls’ bags had leaped from multi-thousand-yuan LVs to six-figure Hermès ones. A few had even married into wealthy families right after graduation. While no one knew what went on behind closed doors in their marriages, the high-society lifestyle showcased in their Moments remained as hot gossip among the Fashion and Art major for a very long time.
As a student renowned in the department for both her striking looks and stunning figure, Zhang Qinghan had long been on Li Yangyang’s radar.
“What type do you like? What kind of relationship are you looking for? Just ask me! I’ll introduce you—I’ve got resources for every type imaginable.”
Li Yangyang had repeated that line so often her lips were practically worn thin. Who could have expected that a stubborn blockhead like Wu Xianglin would come along later? He stuck to Zhang Qinghan like a dog skin plaster, relentlessly pursuing her for over a year. Not only did he deny Li Yangyang any chance to slip in and introduce her to prime matches, but he also guarded Zhang Qinghan with hawkish vigilance—as if Li Yangyang were some big bad wolf ready to devour his pure, innocent Little Red Riding Hood the moment he looked away.
Li Yangyang had rolled her eyes in her head countless times. If you searched the entire university for a truly harmless, innocent little lamb, Wu Xianglin was probably the only one you’d drag up.
Frustrated as she was, with Wu Xianglin around, she could only helplessly watch a stunning beauty like Zhang Qinghan. Half a month ago, when she heard that the blockhead had actually won Zhang Qinghan over, she got so angry she nearly kicked the man in her bed onto the floor. A fine cabbage, harvested by a pig after all!
In the end, they broke up in a week. What was even unusual was that Zhang Qinghan had reached out to her on her own accord, asking for an introduction. Li Yangyang suspiciously looked at her, “I don’t expect that you love Wu Xianglin that much.”
“Hm?”
“What other reason do you have besides acting out of heartbreak? It’s you we are talking about, you never batted an eye when I told you over and over before.” If not because of this, she couldn’t think of any other reason why the beauty of the Fashion and Art department would need her help to get someone.
Zhang Qinghan’s mouth twitched, “If I liked him, I wouldn’t find a new boyfriend one week after breaking up.”
“Who knows,” Li Yangyang muttered under her breath. Still, she didn’t really care as her eyes lit up with unbridled gossip. “So, what kind of guy are you looking for?”
Zhang Qinghan gave a faint smile and looked at her calmly. “That’s exactly why I came to you. For this, nobody is better suited than you.”
As the department’s top socialite beauty, Li Yangyang changed boyfriends as often as she changed clothes,and every single one of them was both ridiculously wealthy and strikingly handsome. The men chasing her might not lack money, but compared to a background like hers, they fell far, far short.
“Oh?” Now Li Yangyang was genuinely intrigued. Her eyes narrowed slightly, long lashes fanning over her vibrant, expressive eyes. Her high, elegant nose bridge and lush, alluring red lips framed a face where every subtle smile and expression radiated natural charm.
Zhang Qinghan leaned in closer and said deliberately, “I only have one requirement for a man.”
She paused, then added softly, “The richest.”
In a corner of the banquet, Zhang Qinghan leaned against a Roman pillar, her gaze casually sweeping over the suit-clad gentlemen across the room before finally settling on Li Yangyang’s bright red manicured nails.
“Did you see his walking cane?” Li Yangyang asked.
Zhang Qinghan recalled the wooden stick casually leaned against that rattan armchair—the one she had joked could be used to whack someone’s leg to numb the pain. “Yeah.”
She knew what Li Yangyang was getting at. “Rosewood.”
“Bingo. Small leaf rosewood—worth its weight in gold. Other people use it just to carve a strand of beads for a bracelet or a brush holder, but him? He goes ahead and turns a million-yuan piece of timber into a walking cane. And that piece of jade is inlaid right into it…” She raised her head, taking in the dazzling, gilded hall around them. “Trade that, and you could buy this entire building, with enough left over to buy a second one.”
Zhang Qinghan’s dark eyelashes fluttered slightly. She had little interest in jade and rarely looked into it, but it wasn’t as though she had never heard that Su Nan’s top tycoon had built his fortune on jade, hailing from a family line of gemstone masters. Today, his business empire spanned everything from luxury goods to new media, thriving by the day.
Some jokingly said that if a bitter divorce hadn’t bled him dry, he’d be the undisputed richest man in all of Su Province without a second thought.
She chuckled lightly. “Well, he certainly isn’t low-profile.”
The black cashmere coat was Daniel Lee’s latest design from the Burberry Autumn/Winter runway, and the simple checkered scarf was a new release from Carolina Herrera that hadn’t even hit the market domestically yet. Head to toe, his clothes alone were almost seven figures—he settled for nothing less than the newest and the sharpest look.
“A bit of a show-off, too,” she added with an amused smile.
For this divorced, eligible bachelor, money was probably nothing more than a string of digits in his eyes.
Li Yangyang clapped her hands together. “Just tell me—does he fit your criteria or what?”
In the three days following the banquet, the hottest piece of gossip in Su Nan upper-class social circles was none other than the appearance of Su Nan’s divorced, highly eligible bachelor at Young Master Sang’s party.
Meanwhile, on the campus of Su University, the most explosive news in the Fashion and Art department over the past two days was that, merely days after breaking up with the wealthy young master Wu Xianglin, department beauty Zhang Qinghan had already got an even richer boyfriend at lightning speed.
It is said that the two met at Sang Liu’s party. The wealthy man had fallen for Zhang Qinghan at first sight, striking while the iron was hot during her post-breakup window. Armed with a fortune that dwarfed Young Master Wu’s, he swept her off her feet immediately after the event ended.
Zhang Qinghan, ever proud, haughty, and impossible to impress, climbed into the man’s Lamborghini Sián and rode away from the banquet to the roaring, street-shaking rumble of its engine.
Instantly, rumors about her flared up all over campus, becoming the tantalizing new hot topic everyone chewed over during meals.
While the university buzzed with endless debate and mixed reviews, Zhang Qinghan’s ten-day leave of absence was just coming to an end. Upon returning to campus, she headed over to report back to her academic advisor first. Before she could even step into the Fashion and Art building, she spotted Zhu He and Shi Huiju approaching from a distance, walking side by side.
Zhu He saw her first and rushed over, waving her ape-like arms high in the air.
In the Fashion and Art department, height requirements were an unwritten rule. A girl who stood at 1.7 meters was practically considered a shorty in this major. But among them, Zhu He truly lived up to her name—whether her parents had forced her growth as a child or she was the result of a lucky genetic mutation, at just 17 years old she stood at a towering 1.87 meters, making her the tallest girl in the entire department. Not to mention her long, thin arms; when she waved them from afar, she looked just like an ape swinging through trees.
“I heard all about it!” Zhu He nudged her shoulder. “At Brother Sang’s party, some rich kid was chasing you non-stop, and you even rode off in his car.”
The Fashion and Art department had no shortage of wealthy students, and She wasn’t the only one invited by Sang Liu, so Zhang Qinghan wasn’t surprised by the rumor. Besides, this was hardly the only piece of gossip circulating about her.
“Is he hot? Is he hot? How does he compare to Wu Xianglin?” Shi Huiju’s gossiping soul burned bright, her eyes sparkling with excitement while her teeth kept crunching away on a red apple.
Zhang Qinghan took the other apple from her hand, bit into it, and replied, “If you’re just hitching a ride, do you really pay attention to what the driver looks like?”
“Tch, the whole department made it sound like magic. If people didn’t know better, they’d think you two had already slept together—turns out you just caught a ride?”
Zhang Qinghan gave a shrug, her smile carrying a subtle touch of mystery.
It didn’t matter what other people thought, as long as someone was paying attention.
“Hey, my lunch!” Shi Huiju looked pitifully at her empty palm—well, today’s lunch had just been slashed from two apples down to one.
Zhang Qinghan asked, “What assignments have been given out lately? How many classes did I miss?”
Zhu He gestured dismissively. “Ask Huiju. You know I don’t register a single word whenever teachers start talking about homework.”
“Could you two put a little effort into this? The assignments lately have been brutal—the elective in Fashion Design wants us to design a traditional Chinese qipao for the final!” Shi Huiju rambled on with a headache.
Designing a qipao wasn’t hard; the hard part was bringing something fresh and innovative to the table!
Ignoring the eyes that constantly darted her way as they walked into the building, Zhang Qinghan pulled out her phone notes to write down the backlog of assignments she had to catch up on.
“Doing that will make people think you’re too guilty to look up,” Zhu He teased with a smirk from the side.
“Mhm, I am feeling pretty weak*.”
“Huh?” Zhu He nudged her, practically buzzing with curiosity. “What are you feeling guilty about? Don’t tell me—did you really get tangled up with that supercar guy? Out with it, tell us! What’s the deal?”
Zhang Qinghan wasn’t the type to just hop into anyone’s car. Just this semester, the supercar lineup parked outside the department building had been practically a car show, and nobody had ever seen her step foot in one.
Hitching a ride? Yeah, right. She wasn’t buying it.
Shi Huiju paused her chewing, savoring the faint, tart aftertaste of her apple, and pricked up her ears.
“With this mountain of homework? Of course I’m feeling weak*.”
The ten days of leave she took were split between two gigs: first, a magazine shoot for Sang Liu’s company,and second, a promotional shoot for a social media influencer.
Upon returning to school, who could have guessed that she’d be hit by a tidal wave of final assignments, each boasting a hellish level of difficulty? To make matters worse, with finals right around the corner, she had barely a month left to get it all done.
After pulling long hours on her coursework for several days, Zhang Qinghan stepped out of the campus design studio in the afternoon, planning to head home for a bit. Before she could even hail a cab, she was intercepted the second she crossed the school gates.
“Hanhan, you’re avoiding me.” Wu Xianglin emerged from behind a large tree with a dark expression.
Zhang Qinghan was startled. If it hadn’t been for that instantly recognizable smoky platinum-grey curtain haircut of his, she would have smacked him across the face with her backpack.
Glaring at him with a thoroughly unimpressed look, she scoffed, “Me? Avoiding you?”
“I went to your department looking for you several times, but you were never there.” He looked at her with hurt, puppy-dog eyes.
“The Economics and Management department keeps you busy enough as it is. If you have nothing better to do, stop pacing across campus measuring it with your feet.”
She stepped around him, walking toward the roadside.
Wu Xianglin blocked her path, standing right in front of her. “Hanhan, how can you be so heartless? We just broke up, and you… you’re already… already with another guy!”
Wu Xianglin looked completely heartbroken. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Zhang Qinghan had insisted on breaking up after dating him for a mere week, let alone how she could get together with someone else just seven days later.
His eyes reddened. “Hanhan… did you ever even love me?”
Zhang Qinghan: “…”
A corner of her mouth twitched. “Did you forget? When I agreed to be with you, the condition was that you wouldn’t expect me to like you. And I’ve told you countless times…”
She paused for a beat. “I love myself more. I only love myself.”
“…And another thing,” she pinched the bridge of her nose with a soft sigh, “could you stop calling me Hanhan?”
For over a year, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to get used to that sickeningly sweet nickname.
Wu Xianglin was an enthusiastic, straightforward guy—wealthy, stubbornly persistent, and reckless, but not bad at heart. That was the only reason Zhang Qinghan had eventually softened up and agreed to give things a shot when he refused to give up. Yet after just one week, she decided it was better to slice through the knot quickly and cut her losses.
When Wu Xianglin acted childish, even that foolish, trouble-making little brother of hers at home started looking positively charming by comparison.
Her words struck right at Wu Xianglin’s fragile little heart, crushing it completely.
His lips trembled as tears welled up in his eyes. More and more onlookers on the street were casting curious glances their way. Without even trying, Zhang Qinghan could already guess the melodrama playing out in their heads—nothing less than Zhang Qinghan, the heartless femme fatale, playing fast and loose with men, while her pitiful ex stood weeping on the curb.
“Wu Xianglin, stop right there!” she warned sternly, tossing a tissue at him. “Blow your nose and get going.”
“I’m not crying, and I definitely don’t have a snot.”
Zhang Qinghan: “…”
Sometimes she found it hard to imagine what kind of warm, nurturing family could raise a flower as pure and harmless as Wu Xianglin.
Unfortunately, this sun-seeking sunflower had locked onto the wrong sun. She didn’t radiate warmth—in her father’s words, she was just a broken rock in a latrine pit, stinky and stubborn.
She turned to leave, raising an arm to hail a cab. Instead, a black Maybach business sedan pulled up right in front of her, bearing the license plate ZH6666.
Zhang Qinghan wasn’t naive enough to think Maybachs were out picking up hitchhikers these days. Stepping back, she watched as the dark rear window rolled down smoothly, revealing a profile that was far from unfamiliar.
Zhao He turned his head to look over. Just like last time, the two were positioned one high, one low—she was looking down at him, and he was gazing up at her. His gaze was a quiet, oceanic scrutiny; his cool, indifferent eyes settled on her face without a trace of warmth.
The driver hurried over, bowed slightly to open the car door, and then stepped back.
Zhao He showed no intention of getting out of the car. Wu Xianglin, however, spotted the man inside and rushed over in a panic. Looking thoroughly terrified, he bent down and peered into the vehicle with extreme caution.
“L-Lit… Little Uncle.”
Trembling with fear and deference, there wasn’t a trace left of Young Master Wu’s usual foolish arrogance on campus—the reckless bravado of “obey me and thrive, defy me and perish,” or the loud declarations that no one in the Fashion and Art department dared steal a woman from him.
Zhao He’s long, slender fingers were as fine as jade, rested lightly on his knee as he tapped his index finger in an idle, rhythmic beat. It was like the gentle striking of a mokugyo clearing away all surrounding noise—radiating an aura of quiet zen and imposing authority all at once. Without uttering a single word, the sheer weight of his scrutinizing gaze was enough to send a chill through anyone’s blood.
Beside his right leg rested the rosewood walking cane she had seen before. This time, Zhang Qinghan’s attention drifted to the jade ring inlaid upon it—a delicately translucent piece of jade carved with a vivid, lifelike dragon.
She curled her lips slightly, thinking the craftsmanship didn’t even match the fake jade Buddha sitting forgotten back at her home. Still, considering what a piece like that must cost, she sighed internally, accepting that she truly belonged in the realm of crude, vulgar wealth.
She could list a thousand wonders about money, yet couldn’t appreciate a fraction of the jade’s quiet beauty.
“Uncle, I—I just came to school to pick something up. I’m leaving right away.” Without waiting for the man to say a word, Wu Xianglin burst into an eager, stammering flurry of apologies.
Zhang Qinghan couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. Zhao He shifted his gaze from the back of Wu Xianglin’s bowed head over to her.
The dim light inside the car cast flickering highlights and shadows across his face. From within those dark contours, the man’s sharp eyes shone with an even keener edge, while his tightly set lips radiated an effortless, unspoken authority.
Unbothered, Zhang Qinghan curled her lips into a smirk. “Great, the guardian’s here. In that case, take him away quickly.”
Zhao He remained silent, merely observing her in quiet composure. Only after Zhang Qinghan’s smile faded and she turned to leave, finding the interaction boring, did he speak up: “Please bear with him.”
Surprised by his courtesy and gentlemanly manners, Zhang Qinghan pulled back her stepped-out foot. “You’re far too polite.”
She had assumed a man of his standing and stature would at least harbor a prideful, arrogant streak, looking down on everything. It was genuinely unexpected for him to say something like that to someone like her,bringing a rare touch of sincerity to her smile.
Zhao He gave a subtle nod, offering nothing further.
Zhang Qinghan hummed in acknowledgment. She had briefly considered saying a few good words on Wu Xianglin’s behalf, but watching him tremble beside them like a drenched little duck was far too entertaining.Tossing out a casual, “Well then, I’ll leave my ex-boyfriend in your hands. Thanks for taking the trouble.”
She turned and walked off in high spirits, completely heartless.
By the roadside, a withered winter leaf swirled past the back of Wu Xianglin’s head, brushed the edge of the Maybach, and finally settled on the pavement.
Zhao He let out a cold snort. “This is the woman you’re so fond of?”
Wu Xianglin buried his head even lower, mumbling timidly, “Little Uncle, you just don’t understand her beauty.”
It wasn’t in her physical appearance—it was in her soul.
He could feel the man’s icy, razor-sharp gaze pressing down mocking weight on the top of his head, crushing him so completely that he didn’t dare utter another word.
Just as his lower back began to ache and his feet grew numb from the freezing cold, Zhao He dropped a final, chilling sentence:
“Fool.”
T/N: 虚 could mean guilty and weak. It is a word play