Chapter 22
Jiang Shangwan frowned slightly and shifted her body gently.
The sticky feeling made her uncomfortable, she wanted to change her close-fitting clothes.
Shi Yu noticed her furrowed brows and asked, “What’s wrong?”
How could she say such a thing out loud? She covered his ear and said, “Not telling you.”
Shi Yu’s drunkenness seemed to be fading, his mind gradually clearing, but with it came the fatigue and drowsiness of a hangover.
Jiang Shangwan tenderly rubbed his dark circles under his eyes. “You have such a handsome face—you have to take care of it. Get some good rest when we get back.”
“Are you leaving?”
Jiang Shangwan turned on her phone screen, which had been neglected for a long time. It was almost dawn—5:58 AM.
“Aren’t you tired?” Jiang Shangwan sighed and showed him the time. “It’s almost six in the morning.”
Although it was their winter break and there was no school, they had stayed up way too late.
Jiang Shangwan thought to herself that she had played a little too hard.
But she had kept all the necessary boundaries, so she felt no guilt. At this moment, she still felt full of affection for Shi Yu.
Shi Yu smoothed out the wrinkles she had made in her dress little by little, then ran his hand through her messy hair, kissing her wrist where there was a faint pink mole.
“Where are you going back to?”
“I rented a place near Jiang University. I’ll go back by myself. Should I have the driver pick you up first?” Shi Yu tidied her hair and let it fall over his chest. “Or I can call a luxury car to take you home?”
“Do you know where my home is?” Jiang Shangwan teased back at him.
Except for a very few close friends, hardly anyone knew where she lived, and she never brought outsiders home. In fact, she usually stayed at hotels more often.
Shi Yu was silent for a moment. “I don’t know, but if you’re willing to let me know…”
Jiang Shangwan gave him the address of a villa community, the most expensive land in Jiangcheng.
“The driver will come to pick me up later and take you near Jiang University.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tied a knot at the bottom, revealing a small section of smooth, enticing abs.
“I really want to lick that.”
Maybe because they were about to part and end this ridiculous ambiguous relationship, Jiang Shangwan began to feel reluctant and nostalgic again. Moments like this, breaking through reason to indulge, were rare.
Shi Yu reached out and pulled her close, pressing her head against his chest with one hand. “Go ahead, lick.”
Jiang Shangwan closed her eyes and gently licked along that tight curve. Her soft pink tongue left little marks and scents on his body bit by bit.
Shi Yu held the back of her head, feeling her movements deepen gradually. His touch was gentle and slow as he pulled her up and wiped away the saliva spilling from the corner of her lips.
He tucked her loose hair behind her ear and gently pinched her earlobe.
Jiang Shangwan untied the knot she had tied and smoothed the wrinkled hem again. “Do you know why I untied it?”
“Hm?”
“So no one else can see it,” she said. “Only I’m allowed to see.”
Dawn was breaking, turning the sky pale gray. Jiang Shangwan saw Shi Yu off at the foot of a residential building. His ears were still faintly flushed red, which grew deeper as the cold wind blew.
Stepping out of the warm car, he shivered lightly as he got out.
Shi Yu’s arm was resting against the car door, lingering and not leaving. He lowered his eyes to look at Jiang Shangwan, who was propping her chin up with her arm, lazily lifting her eyelids.
Her voice was a little hoarse and tired: “What’s wrong?”
“Send me a message when you get home.” Shi Yu affectionately stroked her head with his hand.
“Okay.” Jiang Shangwan was already so sleepy that she was barely coherent, stammering in response.
Jiang Shangwan only remembered pushing open the front door with the last of her consciousness, then her memory went blank. When she opened her eyes, it was already the afternoon of the next day. She pushed herself up from the sofa, feeling weak all over.
She hadn’t even had time to take off her clothes before falling asleep.
She rubbed her drowsy eyes, frowned, and changed out of the messy clothes. Then she checked her phone and saw several unread messages.
Shi Yu: 【Are you home yet?】
【Are you too tired and fell asleep?】
【Remember to change into pajamas before sleeping, or you’ll feel uncomfortable.】
Jiang Shangwan vaguely remembered he had asked her to message him when she got home, but she had forgotten.
【Just woke up.】
She replied casually, thinking it was already too late. Wearing clothes had left her aching all over, she planned to book a spa to relax her muscles.
Recalling fragmented moments from before she blacked out last night—how they held each other for warmth, how he slowly and carefully ran his hands over her body inch by inch.
Even though the intoxication and desire had slowly faded, the beautiful feeling still lingered, making her reluctant to let go.
—What a promising future.
Jiang Shangwan snorted softly at herself.
—
Shi Yu held his phone and waited for a long time.
He had only slept a few hours before recovering, and after taking a hot shower, the last traces of alcohol had basically faded away. But no reply message popped up on WeChat, which made him a little uneasy inside.
He was afraid that once she was sober, she would pull away again, return to her rational and self-controlled state, and push him away.
It wasn’t until the afternoon that he received a simple reply. Although very brief, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief — at least she responded.
That was much better than silent cold treatment.
When he received her message last night, he thought a lot. In an instant, he could tell what kind of entertainment venue she was at, why she suddenly reached out to him, and why she sent him her location.
He knew very well. She wanted to tease him.
But seeing the words “drunk” still made him worry whether she would get stomach pain again. Who was drinking with her? Would someone take care of her?
His impulse overruled his reason. Without hesitation, he went to the pharmacy to buy medicine.
Then he went to find her.
When he finally saw her, all his unease and confusion dissolved into a deep sense of relief.
As long as she wanted, he could do anything.
—
At the end of January, near the New Year, the shops were filled with a strong festive spring atmosphere. Every home was decorated with lanterns and streamers, the joyous red color filled the entire city.
Wang Jie’s Children of the ’80s had also finished filming and was waiting smoothly for release.
Shi Yu spent all day at his computer, putting all his energy into it, fiddling with something unknown. It wasn’t until the start of the third year of university that he packed his bags and went back to school to continue classes.
In the blink of an eye, half of his undergraduate university life was already over, entering the final stretch.
Youth quietly slips away in these seemingly repetitive, ordinary days.
While others went straight to class, he was busy with make-up exams. All the tests he hadn’t finished last semester were piled up at the start of this term.
Teacher Wang from the School of Information called him into the office and said seriously, “Have you thought it over?”
Shi Yu was silent for a long moment.
By the third year, many students start choosing their future career paths—whether to take the graduate entrance exam, go abroad, secure a guaranteed recommendation, or plan internships and employment.
“Shi Yu, you’re a computer genius,” Teacher Wang said, stroking his chin, pointing to the computer screen glowing with blue light. “The shopping platform you made last time won two national awards in a row. Do you know what that means? You’re not even a student of the School of Information, yet the dean there wants to apply to transfer you over to their school.”
“I’ve looked at your grades — you’re also top of your class in the School of Economics. Do you really want to keep studying finance and go into investment banking?”
“Computer science has much broader prospects. You can do development. You have an extremely rare ability for self-innovation that many people don’t. If you want, and don’t want to give up your major, we can apply for a combined master’s and doctoral program at the School of Economics for you. You can continue majoring in finance, minor in computer science, get guaranteed admission to Tsinghua or Peking University, or apply to Ivy League schools abroad.”
These words carried immense weight. Shi Yu thought for a long time. For someone like him—coming from a humble background, with no connections, a small-town test-taker—the safest path was to push his education to the highest level, then jump to a better platform and get a stable high-paying job at a well-known company.
But now, he didn’t want that kind of life.
“Thank you, Teacher, but I don’t want to continue studying,” Shi Yu said.
“I’m planning to start my own business.”
“Start a business?” Teacher Wang raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had some understanding of the student’s background. “Not to mention that starting a business is a gamble—most fail—and it burns money. Do you have enough startup capital?”
Shi Yu nodded slightly. “I saved some money from stock trading. Over the winter break, I started a project myself. If all goes well, it will launch this month.”
“I made a platform that helps people fulfill their wishes.” Shi Yu hugged his laptop and showed the teacher a rough idea of the project.
“What?” Teacher Wang’s pupils dilated in shock. “You made this? And it only took two months?”
The application on the computer was already very well developed—everything from the webpage layout to the core architecture was fully formed, completely unlike an independent project from an undergraduate student.
“This project is called ‘Wish Come True.’ Teacher, do you have any special wish you want to fulfill?”
Shi Yu began to explain his ideas and design in detail. “On the homepage, I created a ‘Wish Wall’ where users can register accounts and post their personal wishes, like leaving sticky notes with messages on a wishing wall. At the same time, users can help others fulfill their wishes. After completing a wish, they can earn ‘Wish Points’ based on the difficulty of the wish.”
“Accumulated Wish Points can be exchanged to progress your own wish progress bar. Users can also offer special Wish Points purchased through recharging as rewards to attract others to help accomplish more complex wishes.”
“‘Wish Come True’…” Teacher Wang was impressed by this original concept. In other words, this was a special kind of trading platform—not a typical direct buy-and-sell platform. Instead, it incorporated psychological fantasy and desire-driven elements.
Many people harbor wishes deep in their hearts that are hard to realize—perhaps due to lack of channels or insufficient ability—but this platform gives them a chance to seek help and exchange value equally.
“By recharging to purchase special Wish Points for rewards…” Teacher Wang said gravely, “Even a traditional shopping platform’s 1% commission is considered huge income, let alone something like game currency recharging.”
“Yes,” Shi Yu’s eyes gleamed, hiding his ambition. “As long as we expand the platform’s influence and promote this concept to attract more people to post and support wishes, this project will definitely bring remarkable surprises.”
“You really are a genius.”
“Do you know how many people will try to suppress or even acquire you once this concept project goes public?” Teacher Wang frowned slightly.