Chu Mingzhe's assumption was quite reasonable.
After all, in his experience, ever since Xue Tao started dating Liu Yuanyuan, the spending had never stopped.
In Chu Mingzhe's worldview, spending money on a girlfriend was acceptable.
But shouldn’t there be some kind of soul connection between the two?
He couldn’t see any resonance between Old Xue and that Liu Yuanyuan.
To put it bluntly, Chu Mingzhe didn’t think either of them had much of a soul to begin with…
So, the only way Xue Tao knew how to keep his girlfriend happy was by showering her with gifts.
However, Chu Mingzhe’s words carried a different meaning to Xue Tao’s ears.
“Wait, what are you trying to say, Lao Chu? Are you implying that the only thing between me and Liu Yuanyuan is eating out and buying clothes?” Xue Tao grumbled, visibly annoyed.
“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” Chu Mingzhe swiftly distanced himself, playing the role of the untouchable.
This guy always spoke in riddles.
Every time, it gave Xue Tao a headache.
In that regard, Su Bai was much more straightforward.
He kept it real.
For example, a few days ago, Xue Tao had asked Su Bai, “Bro, what do you think of my calculus skills right now?”
After thinking for a few seconds, Su Bai blurted out:
“If you don’t pull off a last-minute cram session before finals, you’ll probably fail.”
“……”
At the time, Xue Tao felt like Su Bai was looking down on him—though his math skills were indeed terrible.
But now, looking back, he realized Su Bai was just reminding him to hit the books hard.
It just went to show how Xue Tao’s perception of Su Bai had subtly shifted after Su Bai revealed his wealth.
When a poor guy speaks bluntly, it’s called having no emotional intelligence. But when a rich guy does it, it’s called being genuine.
Such is human nature.
Of course, Xue Tao wasn’t completely won over by Su Bai. Young men rarely are. He merely acknowledged that Su Bai had, at the very least, entered their social tier—hmph!
After all, there was that 800,000-yuan car, not to mention the fact that Su Bai showed up to class every day in a different designer streetwear outfit… Damn, those clothes were expensive!
Xue Tao’s parents would never buy him stuff like that.
According to his parents…
“With a face like yours, just get yourself a few decent suits when you start working. Streetwear? More like street-clown!”
Seriously, whose fault is it that I’m ugly?
Xue Tao was speechless.
“Bro Chu, you just don’t get it. You can’t just keep buying clothes and taking your girlfriend out to eat all the time. Sure, those things are necessary—when you’re in a relationship, you’ve gotta be generous. But I think a man should spend money on himself too.”
“…You actually know how to spend money on yourself??”
Chu Mingzhe was skeptical.
He, on the other hand, had no problem splurging on himself—like his obsession with headphones, which had eaten up a good chunk of his allowance.
“Is that so weird? Ahem, I’m actually planning to upgrade my car soon. My dad’s handing down his second-hand Cayenne to me. He says the Magotan’s fine, but the space is a bit cramped. You know the Cayenne, right? Its specs actually make it a legit workhorse for construction sites. Back when my dad was helping out relatives, he even used it to haul materials…”
Xue Tao rambled on.
Meanwhile, Chu Mingzhe was stunned by the extravagance of Xue Tao’s parents.
They were really going all out to help their son impress girls!
Even a used Cayenne was worth several hundred thousand.
Damn, were the Jiangcheng demolition families really that loaded?
In reality, over the past few days, Xue Tao had been alternating between sweet-talking Liu Yuanyuan on WeChat and throwing tantrums at his parents, demanding a car upgrade.
At first, his parents refused.
But Xue Tao insisted, claiming that all the “high-status” guys at school drove Mercedes E-classes or BMW X5s—how was he supposed to keep up with just a lousy Magotan?
Consumerism really was a disease…
Honestly, even a cheap second-hand Corolla would’ve been more than enough for an average college student.
But if Xue Tao wanted to flex, so be it.
To convince his parents, Xue Tao even came up with a sneaky trick.
When they weren’t looking, he’d grab their phones and scroll through Douyin, liking every video that glorified college students living lavishly and driving luxury cars.
The algorithm did the rest.
He completely wrecked their recommendation feeds.
As the saying goes, behind every spoiled brat is an overly doting mother.
When Xue’s mom saw the videos, she was shocked. “Damn, is this what college life is like now? Well, my precious son can’t fall behind!”
Under her relentless pressure, Xue’s dad reluctantly handed over the Cayenne.
…This, my friends, was the triumph of postmodern algorithmic manipulation!
If people found out the real story behind the Cayenne, they’d probably laugh their heads off.
Some meme account would definitely roast him anonymously.
But Xue Tao was a master at keeping up appearances.
The way he acted, you’d think his family had casually tossed him the keys without a second thought.
“The Cayenne is still a Porsche, you know? Unlike something like a Mercedes GLE, which has cheap trims and is seen as a 400,000 to 500,000-yuan car, the Cayenne is in a whole different league—a million-yuan luxury ride…”
“Really? I feel like girls these days don’t even pay attention to cars,” Chu Mingzhe said, pouring cold water on Xue Tao’s excitement as usual. If Xue Tao were an emperor in ancient times, Chu Mingzhe would’ve been the outspoken advisor—even the legendary Fang Xuanling would’ve been impressed.
“Pfft, you just don’t understand women. Girls love Porsches,” Xue Tao countered before shifting gears. “Speaking of which, I think the headphones you’re into? Now that’s something girls couldn’t care less about.”
“NO!” Chu Mingzhe flashed a brooding, artsy smile. “That girl I met at the bar the other day has been deep in conversation with me about the beauty of Hi-Fi acoustics. I have a feeling our souls are slowly merging.”
“Huh? Which girl at the bar? I don’t remember…” Xue Tao scratched his head.
Chu Mingzhe scoffed. “You were too busy drooling over that busty girl to notice. Meanwhile, I was the one who spotted the most unassuming yet fascinating girl at our table… She was wearing a black gothic dress, Shibuya-style makeup, with a purple hair clip… Her favorite plushie is Kuromi, her favorite drink is Monster… Oh, and she said she loves ‘flower knife’—probably means she’s into cooking! A real domestic goddess.”
Holy crap!
Did Bro Chu actually score?!
Xue Tao was floored. He couldn’t accept this.
Just then, Wang Haoran took off his headphones.
He’d been grinding in-game and needed a bathroom break.
Overhearing Chu Mingzhe’s description of his new crush, Wang Haoran couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What’s so funny, Haoran?”
“N-Nothing…”
Internally, Wang Haoran was thinking: The girl Chu Mingzhe described? Textbook “landmine girl.”
Yahoo~
His brain was already looping that tearful anime OST.
Something told him Chu Mingzhe had stepped into a very, very dangerous pit.
But seeing how smug Chu Mingzhe looked, Wang Haoran didn’t have the heart to warn him.
Then again, as a roommate, maybe he should say something.
Thus began Wang Haoran’s internal struggle.
So, should I tell him?
But telling him probably won’t help.
In the end, Wang Haoran decided to consult Su Bai instead. At least Brother Bai had some emotional intelligence.
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
