After she finished, Annie sent over several more photos of her and An Xin.
Jiang Cheng only saved the Bikini shot, though.
Some pictures were so stunning they eclipsed all the ordinary ones… "Nice. Absolutely gorgeous. Take some for your mom later."
"Yes, yes! So when will you take my mom and me out? She works every single day—super boring. Lots of guys chase her, but she doesn't like any of them~~"
"But I think my mom really likes you~~"
Round and round they went, right back to that topic.
Just as Jiang Cheng was about to reply, he saw Annie's latest messages had been recalled.
Moments later, a new text arrived—from An Xin herself.
"Sorry, Jiang Cheng, I was in the shower and Annie grabbed my phone. Don't take anything she said seriously."
"You're in Military Training these days—take care of yourself and drink plenty of water."
Jiang Cheng could picture An Xin's embarrassed face. Holding back a laugh, he answered, "No worries, I loved the photos Annie sent."
Yu Xiaoxiao watched him texting so intently and asked curiously, "Who're you messaging? You're grinning like crazy."
"A friend. Her kid swiped her phone while she was bathing and bombarded me with wechat. Now the mom's dying of embarrassment."
Xiaoxiao didn't suspect a thing.
She chuckled and said, "Colleagues' kids are always grabbing phones and spamming work groups. Once, a guy accidentally posted private photos—claimed the kid did it. The whole company chat exploded…"
Early the next morning Jiang Cheng returned to campus. The moment he stepped into the dorm, Wang Jian had already laid out his Military Training gear.
Jiang Cheng wasn't surprised by Wang Jian's helpful gesture.
In real life, rich kids aren't the immature, rebellious, stuck-up brats you see in dramas.
On the contrary, Second-generation rich kids know exactly when to lower their profile and are far savvier at networking than ordinary folk.
They don't put so-called dignity first—dignity won't open doors to higher circles, nor will it turn into cash.
Because they've never felt inferior, they simply don't care.
Put plainly, it's an innate sense of life's slack.
To Wang Jian, preparing Jiang Cheng's clothes was perfectly normal; he didn't feel aggrieved or that he was debasing himself.
He knew his goal was to befriend Jiang Cheng, so he'd think of every detail for him.
Yet if Wu Kun, from an average family, did the same, he'd feel like a simp.
"Even if Jiang Cheng's loaded, I shouldn't throw away my pride and fawn over him."
Most ordinary folks see classmates as equals who should respect one another.
Though Wu Kun also wanted to get close to Jiang Cheng, he'd never resort to such obvious flattery.
This fragile self-respect may look laughable in reality,
but truth be told, it's the normal mindset of the majority.
Shift the scene to the workplace and it becomes: if you want a promotion, you'd better please the boss.
After all, work sometimes hinges not on ability but on whether you can stroke the boss's ego.
Many may call such behavior despicable,
while plenty of online hotheads vent in their own echo chambers,
vowing to "clean up workplace culture" and curse out any boss they dislike.
Wake up—who keeps an employee that curses them? You think the boss pays you to be his master?
You need to figure out who's actually footing the bill for your paycheck.
Society's gray zones are endless; you can't change them, and you can't deny that these "favors" are steps you must climb toward success.
Wang Jian grinned, "Bro Cheng, I grabbed Breakfast too—it's on the desk. Eat and stroll to the Drill Ground; we won't be rushed."
Jiang Cheng glanced at the table and clapped Wang Jian's shoulder. "Thanks, man."
"No need for thanks…"