"It's settled, then; it's not big money." Jiang Cheng waved it off.
Wang Jian paused, gave him a thumbs-up, and said, "Brother Cheng, you're the man—thanks a ton!"
If a line like that came from an ordinary roommate…
…you'd better not take it seriously.
A floor-standing AC starts at ten grand, minimum.
You can't split the bill just because he's showing off.
Call his bluff and he might really flip.
But Jiang Cheng isn't your average roommate—his ride costs millions and his watch over twenty.
When someone like that says small change doesn't matter, he means it.
A few ten-thousand is probably just a dinner bill to him.
Insisting on splitting would only make things awkward.
When the big boss pays, never bruise his face.
Losing face is minor; creating distance is major.
Lu Chuan got the memo and chimed in, "Thanks, Tycoon roommate—rooming with you is bliss; I can just lie flat!"
"I was worried my roomies would be hard to handle, but this is awesome. I'm so lucky," Wu Kun added.
They ate and chatted and finished in no time.
It was late summer; the midday sun was brutal.
Every freshman, in full army kit and cap, began formal drill under the scorching sun.
Only then did Jiang Cheng learn what real summer felt like.
After formations and marching drills, everyone was red-faced and gasping.
Even resting in place, his throat felt baked under that blaze.
"Damn, I'm parched—water run?" He fanned himself with his cap, tongue lolling.
"Lines'll be huge—let's move." They headed for the canteen's mini-mart.
Sure enough, both kiosks were packed solid.
Their classmate Huang Yiyi was already in line.
Cap off, fanning herself, she moaned, "I'm dying of thirst. Ten minutes till roll call—should've brought my own water."
Jiang Cheng glanced at her: chestnut hair in a side braid.
The loose army uniform still showed every curve.
Her petal-pink lips pouted at the crowd ahead.
Her cute face had the greenhorns' hearts pounding.
Guys in front kept letting her through.
A bookish boy with black-rimmed glasses stammered, "M-maybe you go first?"
Her eyes lit; she flashed a sweet smile. "Really? Thank you—you're so kind."
Tagged with the "good-guy card," the boy blushed like never before.
That smile was lethal; several more boys yielded, craving the same card.
All they wanted was that sweet label.
Skipping the queue, Huang Yiyi hugged a bag of drinks and trotted out.
Spotting Jiang Cheng, she jogged straight over.
"Jiang Cheng, thirsty? I've got juice or water—your pick. I queued forever for these." She beamed, waiting for praise.
He'd seen the whole show—queue? What queue?
Her big grape eyes curved into crescents; he itched to pinch those cheeks.
Ignoring the resentful stares of the queue-skippers…
…he grabbed an icy bottle, cracked it open, and chugged.
"Thanks," he grinned. "Next round's on me—Wahaha okay?"
"Wahaha—love it," she said innocently.
Wang Jian, Lu Chuan, and Wu Kun gulped at the sight.
"Huang Yiyi, we're thirsty too," Wu Kun piped up.
She hugged the bag tighter. "Nope—only one extra, for Jiang Cheng. The rest are for my roommates."
"Hey, that's blatant favoritism," Wang Jian teased.
She shrugged. "Told you—I'm into his type. See ya!"
She trotted off, leaving them still in line.