"What are you doing here?"
Hearing this, Huang Yiyi's gaze drifted; her fingers twisted the hem of her skirt as she answered, a little awkwardly, "My dad… he came to see me."
Jiang Cheng stepped forward and glanced at the driver's seat of the Audi A4.
He was about to greet Huang Yiyi's father politely.
But when he saw the middle-aged man behind the wheel, he froze mid-step.
Wasn't this the very man who, yesterday outside the Waldorf, had clung to Xu Lei's sleeve begging for a loan?
Huang Zonglei recognized Jiang Cheng as well; his fairly calm face blanched, then flushed red with embarrassment.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened and even the pads of his fingers turned red.
Instinctively he turned his face away, then, afraid that would look too deliberate, forced himself to turn back, eyes flicking everywhere except toward Jiang Cheng.
Yesterday he had pleaded so humbly, and now his own daughter's classmate had seen it; the shame stabbed like a needle.
Watching Huang Zonglei's expression and remembering how he had begged Xu Lei for the loan,
and recalling the anxious, bitter phone call he'd overheard Huang Yiyi make in the cafeteria a few days earlier,
Jiang Cheng put the pieces together: the Huangs were caught in a cash-flow crisis; even daily expenses were a problem.
So that was why Huang Zonglei hadn't sent Huang Yiyi her living expenses this month?
Beside him, Huang Yiyi was doing her best to keep her expression under control,
but her shoulders drooped slightly.
She looked dispirited.
Clearly she knew the family was in trouble; otherwise she wouldn't look so lost.
"Dad, this is my classmate Jiang Cheng," she said softly, voice as thin as a mosquito's buzz, the tips of her ears quietly reddening.
She didn't want the family's embarrassment exposed in front of the boy she liked, yet right now she had no choice.
Huang Zonglei snapped back to his senses, hurriedly pushed the door open and stepped out, his movements flustered, his tone almost overly polite: "J-Jiang, hello."
He avoided Jiang Cheng's eyes, still remembering yesterday's humiliating plea.
His palms were even faintly sweaty.
When a man is down on his luck he becomes hypersensitive.
All her life he had been the invincible "hero dad" to Huang Yiyi; never had he imagined appearing before her classmate in such a wretched state.
He truly didn't want Huang Yiyi's classmate to see him like this.
Jiang Cheng's expression didn't change; he gave a slight nod. "Uncle Huang, nice to meet you."
After they shook hands, Huang Yiyi asked with a faint blush, "Why are you back today?"
"Came back for the cafeteria," Jiang Cheng replied flatly, eyes sweeping over her.
Huang Yiyi tugged the corner of her mouth in a bitter smile. "Looks like you really like the canteen. Those of us who live here can't wait to get out and find something decent; you keep heading back in."
"Nothing wrong with the cafeteria," Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow. "Cheap, lots of dishes, better value than plenty of places outside."
In those few sentences Jiang Cheng never mentioned yesterday, nor asked about the Huangs' situation.
Huang Zonglei's heart settled a little.
Yet this deliberate "avoidance" only made him feel worse.
It was as if someone had ripped away his fig leaf only to quietly hand it back, leaving him both grateful and ashamed.
"Uncle Huang, Yiyi, my friends are waiting—I'll be off," Jiang Cheng excused himself at the right moment.
Only after the rolls-royce had driven far away did Huang Yiyi clutch the hem of her blouse and ask tremulously, "Dad… is it really that bad at home?"
Huang Zonglei stared in the direction the car had vanished, sighed heavily, and patted his daughter's shoulder.
The warmth of his palm couldn't thaw her stiff body.
He steadied his voice, feigning calm: "Don't worry, Dad will find a way; I won't let you suffer." Yet even he could hear how hollow the words sounded, the fatigue impossible to hide.
"Really?" Huang Yiyi's eyes reddened instantly, large tears trembling on her lashes.
But stubbornly she held them back, her voice quavering, "Our family… we're not really going bankrupt, are we?"
The question struck Huang Zonglei like a boulder to the chest.
The company's cash flow was already riddled with holes and could snap at any moment.
He had spent days running through every contact he had, begging countless people, before he even tracked down Xu Lei—who clearly had no intention of helping.
Looking at his daughter fighting her tears, he swallowed the bitterness and rubbed her hair.
Once it had been carefully styled; today it was dull and messy, making her look drained.
"Don't worry," he said through clenched teeth, forcing conviction into his voice. "As long as the bank loan comes through, the new project in my hands can start up and save the company. For you, Dad will fight to the end."
Huang Yiyi said nothing; she only bit her lower lip until it whitened, the light in her eyes slowly dimming.
She had studied finance for half a semester.
She could hardly claim expertise,
but she understood enough to know the family's situation.
Things were not good.
After a long pause she lifted her head, eyes red yet forcing a brittle smile.
"Dad, don't worry about me. I still have last year's New-Year money in my card; if I'm careful it'll last half a year. If it isn't enough I'll take a part-time job in the library. Really, you don't need to fret over me."
Her sensible words stabbed Huang Zonglei's nose with sudden ache.
This was the little princess he had doted on since childhood, whom he hated to let touch cold water.
Now she was calculating living costs and thinking of working part-time.
He felt no pride at all—only a dense, stabbing pain, as if countless fine needles were pricking him until he could barely breathe.
Huang Zonglei turned his face away, discreetly wiped the corner of his eye, then turned back, voice hoarse. "Silly child, how could Dad let you suffer?"
"Oh, Yiyi," Huang Zonglei suddenly changed the subject, glancing involuntarily in the direction Jiang Cheng had left, curiosity creeping into his tone, "that classmate of yours, Jiang Cheng—what does his family do?"
When her father suddenly brought up Jiang Cheng, Huang Yiyi's cheeks flushed; even her gaze flickered.
It felt like her dad was talking about the boy she liked.
She gave a small shake of her head, voice softening, a protective note she herself didn't notice slipping in.
"I don't know much about his family. I only know he started his own company and he's really capable. Oh, and I told you before—the person who donated ten million to build our new auditorium and dormitory? That was him."
"What?!" Huang Zonglei almost dropped the car keys, his pupils contracting in shock.