Shen Yuan didn’t get home until one in the morning.
He was still buzzing with excitement. The moment he walked in, he messaged Qiao Hailou: “Do you know what just happened?! Wang Ziqin got everything on him stolen in the park. He had nowhere to go and came begging to me! I went to see him—he’s miserable now. Serves him right! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
Shen Yuan didn’t expect a reply at this hour. It was so late, and Qiao Hailou was older—he needed sleep. He’d probably already turned in for the night.
But Shen Yuan just couldn’t hold back the glee bubbling inside him. He had to share it with someone. Qiao Hailou would see it in the morning anyway.
He couldn’t talk about this with anyone else, so only Qiao Hailou could hear him out.
He always kept up a gentle, kind façade in front of others. Only Qiao Hailou knew he was actually petty and held grudges—and that this whole thing started because of him, and because Qiao Hailou had roped him into doing something bad.
Shen Yuan felt like he and Qiao Hailou had formed an evil alliance. And honestly… revenge felt really, really good.
Besides, with Uncle Qiao backing him up, he was going to enjoy this chance to vent.
He had just sent the message and was preparing to sleep in a great mood when his phone buzzed—not even thirty seconds later. It was Qiao Hailou.
He wasn’t asleep?! Shen Yuan lit up instantly.
Qiao had sent a voice message. Shen Yuan ducked under his blanket to listen. Qiao Hailou’s voice drawled: “Feeling happy?”
Shen Yuan stared at his phone, lips curving upward, unable to stop himself from chuckling as he whispered back, “Hehe… yeah.”
Right after he sent it, he heard movement in the living room outside his bedroom. He didn’t dare send another voice message—Li Lin might hear.
Shen Yuan typed: “Should I introduce him to our company tomorrow? Let’s text—my little brother hasn’t gone to bed yet.”
Qiao Hailou: “No need. Just wait. In two days, he’ll come to you. Then you can recommend him for that clerk job.”
Shen Yuan didn’t get it. “How do you know he’ll come to me? And why a clerk? Didn’t you say to make him a security guard?”
Qiao asked back: “Do you think he’d agree to be a security guard right off the bat?”
Shen Yuan thought about it. Then it clicked. “Right… he’s arrogant and useless. If I offer him a guard job from the start, he’ll definitely refuse. Worse, he’ll think I’m insulting him on purpose. But a clerk job—he’ll force himself to take it. He definitely won’t do well, though. I can nitpick him, make things hard until he can’t stay… but he needs money, so he has to work. Then I can say I begged the company to keep him on—as a security guard. Is that it?”
Qiao praised him: “Smart little thing. Just watch. Within three days, he’ll come to you.”
Shen Yuan thought about it again. Wang Ziqin really was useless—good at nothing except partying and spending money. But would he really be unable to find any job? He was at least a college student, after all. They hadn’t attended the same university, so Shen Yuan didn’t know how he did in his major. Maybe Wang Ziqin didn’t even need him?
Still, for some reason, he trusted Qiao Hailou completely. The old scoundrel was always right.
This time, Shen Yuan really learned something: dealing with someone didn’t always require brute force. Sometimes you could take the scenic route.
Three days passed.
And Wang Ziqin really did show up on his doorstep. He was dead broke again. The thousand yuan Shen Yuan had lent him before was already gone.
He was mortified to come back, but he had no other choice.
And honestly, it wasn’t because he’d been wasteful this time. The very next day after getting the money, he’d gone out job-hunting. But it was already two weeks into summer break—no longer hiring season. Almost no companies were taking temporary workers. And even when one finally showed some interest, he didn’t even own a decent suit to wear.
He didn’t want to wear cheap stall-market clothes, but in the end he could only go to the mall and buy the cheapest outfit that still looked somewhat proper. It was the cheapest thing he had ever worn in his life. Only his face and figure kept the clothes from looking cheap.
One company actually seemed willing to consider him, but when he asked about the pay for temporary summer workers, he almost fainted. It was a joke. Even lower than the salary he used to mock Shen Yuan for—less than half of that. How could anyone live on that?!
At first, he refused on principle. He thought he should at least earn what Shen Yuan earned—otherwise how embarrassing would that be? And after hesitating, the company ghosted him. They’d clearly already rejected him. Humiliating.
Some positions were at companies run by his old rich-kid friends’ families, but he was too embarrassed to go.
He ran all over K City for three days and still no one wanted him—except for service jobs that didn’t require much education. But he couldn’t swallow his pride enough to apply.
He’d never realized fast food was so expensive. Or how costly transportation was. He honestly felt like he was living the most frugal life of his entire existence. And still, the money disappeared at lightning speed.
Meanwhile, he still had no job.
For the first time in his life, he understood how hard it was to find work.
Panic finally set in—but too late.
In the end, he could only return to Shen Yuan and ask to borrow another thousand. He just needed a few more days to find something.
Shen Yuan asked, “You already burned through the money?”
Wang Ziqin stiffened. Remembering what Shen Yuan had said before, he hurried to explain, “I—I didn’t waste it. I really was trying to find a job. I just haven’t found the right one yet. Please lend me another thousand… I’ll keep looking.”
Shen Yuan eyed him. “Have you actually been looking seriously?”
“…Yes.” But under Shen Yuan’s skeptical gaze, his voice grew small. It hurt. Sure, he used to lie and loaf around, but this time he really had been trying—running around in the heat, sweating all day… only to fail at even the jobs he used to look down on.
He felt useless. Completely defeated. But he didn’t want to believe he was really that incompetent. He wanted to try again. He refused to believe he couldn’t even land one job.
Shen Yuan looked him over, sighed, and asked, “Which companies did you send your résumé to? Let me see how you wrote it.”
Embarrassed but knowing Shen Yuan meant well—after all, Shen Yuan had been working part-time since high school and had way more experience—Wang Ziqin led him to an internet café. That was where he had written and sent all his job applications.
He pulled up his résumé on the job site. Shen Yuan read it, his frown deepening with every line.
Wang Ziqin’s heart nearly stopped. Not even during the college entrance exams had he been this nervous. Even getting caught smoking by the dean hadn’t scared him like this.
The monitor’s blue glow cast a soft light over Shen Yuan’s face, like a faint gauzy veil. His expression was focused, serious, eyes moving up and down the screen. His profile… was really pretty.
Then Shen Yuan suddenly let out a small laugh—mocking.
“What even is this résumé?”
Wang Ziqin’s face instantly burned bright red.
Shen Yuan pointed. “Why is this section blank?”
Wang Ziqin stammered, “I… didn’t have anything good to put…”
In high school, with Shen Yuan around, he’d been passable at studying. But in college, he barely showed up, spent all his time playing around, skipped classes, barely crammed during finals, failed courses and retook them—only passing because professors accepted his red envelopes and rounded him up.
Shen Yuan rubbed his forehead. “With this? You might still be job-hunting when summer ends.”
That hit hard. Harder because he couldn’t deny any of it. He really was a useless bum who couldn’t even land a half-decent job.
Shen Yuan looked at him coldly. “I’m not a charity. I’m not going to keep lending you money forever. That thousand? Consider it a donation.”
Wang Ziqin shrank, voice small. “I know… I’m not picky anymore. I’ll take whatever someone gives me. I’ll pay you back. I swear.”
Shen Yuan sneered. “Swear? With what? …Fine. I heard HR say our company needs an extra hand. A clerk. Easy stuff—basic office tasks. You just need to know how to use office software. Want it? If you do, I’ll put in a word. It should be stable.”
Wang Ziqin hesitated. “…How much does it pay?”
“Fifteen hundred a month for summer interns.”
Wang Ziqin exploded. “That low?!”
Shen Yuan gave him a sharp glare. He almost walked out. “Meals and housing included. What more do you want? Don’t want it? Fine. I’m not begging anyone for you. I’m not even that close to them. If you think it’s too low, go find your own job.”
Faced with reality, Wang Ziqin swallowed his pride and nodded. “Okay. Please ask for me. Thank you.”
He looked genuinely moved. “Thank you, Shen Yuan. I finally get it now… you’re the only one willing to help me. In the past… it was all my fault. I shouldn’t have bullied you or messed with you.”
Shen Yuan only gave a brief grunt, turned away, refusing to answer—as if still angry about earlier.
Wang Ziqin scratched his head, wanting to apologize properly but not knowing how.
Clearly, Shen Yuan hadn’t forgiven him yet.
Thinking back on everything he’d done, guilt washed over him. He really had been awful. He’d bullied Shen Yuan endlessly. And yet, when he was down and desperate, the only person who reached out to help him—even if not out of affection but out of simple decency—was Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan… really was a good person.