To be honest, Liu Yue couldn’t even remember the last time she had bought clothes at a shopping mall.
When she was little, her adoptive parents would take her to the mall to buy children’s clothes, and they’d also eat out and take her to the amusement park. Liu Yue’s memories of her childhood were always very pleasant.
After she started middle school, she went to a boarding school, and it was around then that her adoptive brother, who had been studying abroad, returned to China.
Liu Yue had overheard relatives chatting about how her adoptive parents had adopted her from the orphanage because they were too lonely with their son studying in a foreign country.
Her adoptive brother’s name was Liu Hui. After returning home, he started his own business. Both of her adoptive parents were busy helping him with it—offering advice and providing moral support—so their attention on Liu Yue decreased significantly.
Liu Yue used to feel sad about it, but looking back now, she realized her parents hadn’t really done anything wrong.
After all, Liu Hui was their biological son. The fact that they had raised her safely and healthily was already a kindness she owed them. Favoritism was, after all, the rarest luxury in this world.
Lost in her thoughts, she wandered aimlessly through the mall until she spotted a store with a nice display on the mannequin and walked in.
Liu Yue never expected to run into her roommate, Sang Yu, there.
Sang Yu was clearly just as surprised to see her, but she quickly composed her expression. At the same time, Liu Yue noticed that there was a man standing next to Sang Yu, and his face didn’t look happy at all.
Sang Yu didn’t seem inclined to introduce them to each other. She asked Liu Yue, “You’re here to buy clothes?”
“Yeah, I was just wandering around and ended up here.”
Liu Yue replied, “I was thinking—my usual clothes are too student-like. I wanted to buy something suitable for interviews and work.”
Even though she was now bound to the Spending System, Liu Yue was still thinking about finding a job. After all, she had no idea how long the System would stick around. What if it disappeared tomorrow?
Remembering that Sang Yu had been here just now, Liu Yue asked if she knew anything about this store and whether she could find such clothes here.
Sang Yu stepped closer and asked in a low voice, “What’s your budget?”
Liu Yue remembered today’s task amount: “Around six thousand, hopefully not over.”
Sang Yu was a bit surprised—this didn’t match the spending habits she remembered Liu Yue having.
But she didn’t press further here. Instead, she said, “Then you’ve come to the right place. This is Theory. Their clothes are perfect for work and commuting—they’re a favorite among women in finance.”
“Also, they have a student discount promotion recently—25% off, and you can stack it with the mall’s spend-and-reduce deal. It’s a pretty good deal.”
Liu Yue’s eyes lit up at the mention of a discount.
“Sang Yu, do you come here often to buy clothes?”
The man who had been ignored by them all along let out a cold laugh.
“I used to. But starting today, she can’t afford it anymore.”
After saying that, he shot Sang Yu a glare and strode out of the store.
Liu Yue looked at Sang Yu, utterly confused. Compared to the man’s fury, Sang Yu’s expression was remarkably calm.
“He’s…?” Liu Yue asked cautiously.
“My ex-boyfriend,” Sang Yu replied, adding, “As you can see, we just broke up.”
Oh? So she had just witnessed their breakup scene?
Liu Yue was extremely embarrassed and didn’t know what to say.
She could trash-talk Ke Yan for being an ultimate love-brain who kept falling for ugly guys, but she—or rather, the girls in her dorm—knew very little about Sang Yu’s relationship situation.
Everyone just knew she had a boyfriend, but no one knew who he was. That was actually the first time Liu Yue had seen him.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to rack her brains for a response—Sang Yu changed the subject herself.
She asked, “Liu Yue, have you verified your student status on Alipay? The discount requires that as proof.”
Liu Yue nodded. She had verified it long ago.
Since the topic had already been shifted, Liu Yue quickly said, “Sang Yu, can you help me pick out some clothes? I’ll treat you to Heytea afterward.”
“Sure,” Sang Yu agreed. “Didn’t expect you to trust my taste that much.”
“Of course, do I even need to say it?”
When asking for a favor, Liu Yue’s sweet talk flowed like honey: “The whole class—no, the entire School of Foreign Languages—knows you have the best aesthetic sense.”
That wasn’t just Liu Yue saying things casually. Sang Yu’s sense of style and ability to put outfits together were genuinely impressive.
Every time Ke Yan had an important date with her boyfriend, she would ask Sang Yu to be her styling consultant; whenever girls in their class needed to attend a major occasion, they’d come to their dorm to ask Sang Yu for advice. Eventually, this little secret spread by word of mouth until it reached the entire school.
When their roommate Lin Feiran went for her postgraduate recommendation interview, it was Sang Yu who picked out her clothes, shoes, and accessories—everything from head to toe.
Lin Feiran had said that on the day of the interview, she felt especially confident and performed beyond her usual level. In the end, she successfully got in.
Liu Yue thought to herself that she wasn’t being superstitious—she just wanted to experience that feeling of a confidence boost.
Sang Yu: “So do you want a top and bottoms, or a dress?”
“It’s still a bit too early for a dress in this weather. Let’s go with a suit first.”
Liu Yue scratched her head: “But I’m also worried a suit might feel too formal, or give off that whole selling-insurance-and-real-estate vibe.”
“It won’t. I’ll help you pick.”
Sang Yu led her over to a row of racks and pulled out a cream-white blazer.
“Go with white,” she said. “Since you don’t want to look too formal, go with lighter colors. When you go to interviews, most people wear dark colors—if you wear a light-colored suit, you’ll be easier to remember.”
“This one has a loose, straight-cut silhouette with good drape. I’ll pair it with wide-leg trousers in the same fabric.”
The trousers Sang Yu picked were also cream-white. She walked over to another rack and grabbed a white T-shirt for her.
“The white color scheme gives off a fresh, crisp feeling, and since these two whites are different shades, it creates more visual layering when worn together.”
Liu Yue took the clothes: “I thought you’d pair it with a button-up shirt inside.”
“You could do that too, but a T-shirt is more relaxed and casual, and you can wear it in more everyday settings. I’ll find you a shirt in a bit—try both and see which one you like better.”
After saying that, Sang Yu lowered her voice: “If you want the three-piece set with the shirt included, you’ll need to bump up your budget a little.”
Oh, is that so?
Liu Yue went to check the price tag on the blazer. The 4,200 written on it made her eyes widen involuntarily.
Sang Yu reminded her just in time: “That’s the price before the discount.”
Oh right, she almost forgot about the 25% student discount and the mall’s spend-and-reduce promotion. No problem then.
…But even after the discount, it was still expensive. Weren’t these supposed to be “commuter-friendly” for work? What kind of job paid that well!
Liu Yue almost forgot again that she was bound to the Spending System. Only by telling herself that she was spending the System’s money could she bring herself to carry these clothes into the fitting room.
A 4,200 blazer, 2,500 trousers, and even a plain-looking T-shirt that cost 800. Liu Yue had just been complaining about how insane the brand markup was, but after changing into the outfit…
How to put it? It was, well, actually pretty comfortable.
Back when Liu Yue participated in student activities, she’d rented a suit before. Back then, she felt weird all over—the size wasn’t small by any means, yet there was still this cramped, constricted feeling like she couldn’t move freely.
But this suit didn’t have that problem. She could move around freely in front of the mirror. The important thing was that although the blazer was loose, the cut was very structured, and the T-shirt felt soft against her skin.
This was the first time Liu Yue experienced the difference in fabric quality. An 800-yuan T-shirt really did wear completely differently from one that cost 19.9 with free shipping.
Liu Yue looked at herself in the mirror and felt the outfit fit her perfectly. It was only then that she realized Sang Yu hadn’t even asked her what size she wore—she’d just taken one look at her and picked everything out.
So impressive! That’s Sang Yu for you!
Sang Yu brought over two shirts at that point, and Liu Yue tried those on too.
How to put it? She really should trust Sang Yu’s eye. The shirt pairing didn’t look bad either, but compared to the T-shirt, it definitely wasn’t as relaxed—that “formal wear” feeling came through.
—Of course, it was also because the shirts all had price tags over 3,000. Liu Yue calculated the discounted price and found it would exceed the task amount, so she decisively gave up on them.
The System’s money could be spent freely, but touching her own little savings? Absolutely not!
Liu Yue bought the three-piece set Sang Yu had originally recommended. After stacking the student discount and the mall’s spend-and-reduce promotion, she paid 5,125 yuan in total.
The System updated the task progress in real time. She still had 740.12 left to spend today.
A few hundred bucks? Easy peasy.
She said cheerfully to Sang Yu, “Come on, let me treat you to Heytea.”
The two of them ordered the stir-fried ice at Heytea and took some photos.
After taking her shot, Liu Yue felt the result was pretty mediocre—it didn’t look appetizing at all. She looked at Sang Yu’s phone instead. Wow, the photo Sang Yu took could easily be the cover image for a Xiaohongshu ad!
“How are you so good at everything?” Liu Yue said, genuinely envious. “Not just styling outfits, but photography too. You’re so polished.”
Sang Yu smiled. “Just surface-level polish. Nothing worth mentioning.”
She took out her camera and explained the principles of composition to Liu Yue. Liu Yue listened very attentively, and in the middle of it, she heard Sang Yu ask, “By the way, Liu Yue, are you from Shenzhen originally?”
“Yeah.” Liu Yue answered along with her question. “I grew up in Shenzhen.”
“Being local is nice,” Sang Yu said. “Locals can go home often.”
She paused for a moment. “But I get the feeling you’re always at school.”
Liu Yue’s heart suddenly trembled.
When her parents were alive, that was her home. After they passed away… she wasn’t close with her adoptive brother Liu Hui, and there wasn’t much family bond to speak of.
Sang Yu watched her expression closely. Seeing that she didn’t respond, she immediately changed the subject.
“My grape ice is pretty good. Want to try some?”
Liu Yue took the spoon she offered and scooped up a bit from the other side.
It was a little sour, but the grape flavor was rich. If it were something too sweet, Liu Yue actually wouldn’t have liked it.
She ate the fried ice, and as her gaze swept past the shopping bags, she suddenly realized something.
— Her roommates all knew that she had always been stingy when it came to dressing up, never spending more than a hundred yuan on clothes from Taobao.
So, how was she supposed to explain suddenly pulling out several thousand yuan to spend at the mall? Wouldn’t Sang Yu find it strange?
Author’s Note: