The teller quoted a number.
Lin Chen rummaged through his pockets and counted his cash, his expression turning sour.
He was still a few hundred yuan short.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of Shen Qinghuan standing at the entrance.
Shen Qinghuan was wearing that newly bought pale-yellow dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders, carrying several luxury brand bags in her hands. Under the mall’s lights, she practically glowed.
Lin Chen’s eyes lit up.
He hurried over, putting on that familiar gentle smile.
“Qinghuan, what a coincidence. You’re shopping too?”
Shen Qinghuan glanced at him, nodded as a greeting, then prepared to walk in another direction.
Lin Chen’s gaze fell on the bags in her hands, sweeping over the brand logos, a complicated emotion flashing in his eyes.
“These… you just bought all of these?”
Shen Qinghuan stopped, baffled. “What does my shopping have to do with you?”
Lin Chen sighed, his tone carrying a hint of concern.
“Qinghuan, I know you’ve been in a bad mood lately, but you can’t spend money like this. These brands are so expensive. How much money do you have left? You should be more careful with your spending.”
He paused, glancing toward the entrance, and noticed that arrogant young miss named Su You pulling her car up to the door.
“Are you hanging out with Su You again? Qinghuan, those people will only lead you to spend and squander. They have no concept of thrift.”
“If you’re going to make friends, make ones who are good for you. Don’t mix with this kind of friend who has no sense of restraint.”
Lin Chen spoke earnestly, like an elder worrying over Shen Qinghuan.
Su You had just parked and stepped out of the car when she heard those words, and her face changed instantly.
She saw Lin Chen standing in front of Shen Qinghuan, who was still holding the clothes she had just bought for her, her expression hidden from view.
Su You’s heart plummeted.
Here we go again.
Had Shen Qinghuan lied to her again?
Was she about to reconcile with Lin Chen again? Was she going back to being that pathetic simp again?
“Shen Qinghuan.” Su You spoke up. “Are you lying to me again?”
Shen Qinghuan turned her head and saw Su You standing by the car door, her eyes rimmed red, her face full of disappointment and anger.
Su You’s voice trembled. “You said you’d cut off contact with him. And then what? The moment I turn my back to run an errand, you two are standing together again?”
“Are you going to leave with him again? Are you going to make all of us look like fools again?”
People around them began to stop and watch.
Shen Qinghuan didn’t panic. She took Su You’s hand and patted it soothingly a couple of times, then turned to look at Lin Chen, her face cold.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was crystal clear.
“Lin Chen, what did you just say? Say it again.”
Lin Chen froze, apparently not expecting this reaction from Shen Qinghuan.
Shen Qinghuan lifted the bags in her hands, her tone icy:
“What right do you have to say my friend has no sense of restraint? These clothes were paid for with her card, bought as clothes for me. What business is it of yours?”
“You say my friend only leads me to spend money? Do the math yourself—how much money have you asked me for?”
Lin Chen’s face went pale, and his mouth opened and closed.
Shen Qinghuan didn’t give him a chance to speak, continuing her tirade:
“And besides, who I befriend—does it need the approval of a random passerby like you? A man who lives off women’s money to support his white moonlight—what right do you have to judge anyone else’s friendships?”
Lin Chen’s face changed completely.
Passersby began whispering among themselves, and some raised their phones to start filming.
“Who’s that guy? Living off a woman’s money?”
“I heard he’s that Jingda school heartthrob who does moral blackmail—there was a video of him online before.”
Lin Chen clenched his fists, his face turning pale and flushed by turns, then turned and walked away.
Shen Qinghuan delivered a final blow to his retreating back:
“Lin Chen, if you ever show up in front of me again being a scheming, conniving little weasel, don’t blame me for hiring a lawyer to recover everything I ever gave you.”
Su You stood where she was, tears finally falling. She looked at Shen Qinghuan, lips moving, unable to speak.
Shen Qinghuan walked over and gave her a gentle hug: “Why are you crying again? He insulted you, and I already cursed him out for it.”
Su You sniffled. “Lin Chen is a bastard—and so were you, before!”
She pulled out a handkerchief and dried her tears, the corners of her mouth starting to lift. “But the way you cursed him out just now? This young lady approves.”
After dropping Shen Qinghuan back at school, Su You drove off.
She’d thrown out a “I’ll deal with you next time,” but as the car window rolled up, she was smiling brightly.
Shen Qinghuan stood at the school gate, laden with bags big and small, watching the luxury car disappear into the traffic.
She looked down at the bags in her hands and sighed.
For all Su You’s fierce scolding, she hadn’t held back at all when buying clothes—five dresses alone had been stuffed into the bags.
These things couldn’t be returned. If Shen Qinghuan tried, Su You would fall out with her over it.
Carrying her bags, before entering the school gate, Shen Qinghuan spotted a bank by the roadside.
She hesitated a moment, then pushed the door and walked in.
The original owner’s memories told her there was still money in her card, but she’d never checked exactly how much was left.
In the days since transmigrating, she’d been busy dealing with Lin Chen, taking midterm exams, and keeping an eye on the online harassment—no time yet to go over the accounts.
Now that things had quieted down, it was time to take stock of her assets.
The line at the ATM was neither long nor short. Shen Qinghuan stood at the back, behind a couple making deposits and withdrawals.
When her turn came, she pulled a black card from her wallet.
The card had a matte, high-end finish, the bank’s logo printed in the upper left corner, with no other design whatsoever.
It was the supplementary card the Shen family had given her—once unlimited in credit, swipe as much as she wanted.
Shen Qinghuan inserted the card, and a line of text popped up on the screen: “This card has been frozen. Please contact the primary cardholder.”
She froze for a second, then pulled the card out and switched to another.
This was the original owner’s own debit card, holding her New Year’s money, allowance, and various competition prize winnings accumulated since childhood.
She inserted the card, entered the PIN from memory, then shuddered.
The password the original owner had set was the date she first met Lin Chen.
No way. That password was getting changed today! She made up her mind.
The screen switched, and the balance appeared.
Shen Qinghuan stared at the string of numbers, completely frozen.
105,432.00.
One hundred five thousand four hundred thirty-two yuan.
Considerably less than what she’d had in savings at the end of her previous life.
Shen Qinghuan let out a heavy sigh, and a flood of the original owner’s memories suddenly surged into her mind.
Her sixteenth birthday—the Shen family had chartered an entire luxury cruise ship.
The haute couture gown the original owner wore then was worth tens of millions, worn once and then hung in the walk-in closet, never touched again.
At seventeen, the original owner had casually bought a pile of limited-edition handbags, each costing hundreds of thousands of yuan.
She’d picked out a few, carried them a handful of times, decided they weren’t pretty after all, and tossed them into a cabinet to gather dust.
At eighteen, the original owner had gone abroad for a violin competition, staying in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel—over a hundred thousand a night—for a full two weeks.
Now, at twenty, her entire net worth was only a hundred thousand yuan. She couldn’t even afford the gown she’d worn at sixteen.
Shen Qinghuan stood in front of the ATM, pulled out her card, and slowly put it back into her wallet.
Her expression was calm, but inside, something in her had already died a little.
Walking out of the bank, she carried her bag along the street for a few steps, found a spot beside a flower bed to sit down, and began tallying things up in her head.
A hundred thousand yuan sounded like a lot, but it wouldn’t hold up under careful accounting.