He is a VIP, and you are...

High school graduates are typically eighteen, nineteen, or twenty years old—the very age when one loves to act grown-up and show off. It's an amusing period, full of bravado. At this age, if a boy fancies a girl, he’ll often try to appear especially outstanding and mature in front of her, much like a peacock spreading its tail to attract a mate. Though, to be fair, a peacock’s display is genuinely beautiful, while this kind of contrived maturity is usually just a boy’s own impression of what adulthood means.

As for girls, if they have boys they admire, they too will unconsciously present their best sides—gentleness, sweetness, and the like—whenever those boys are nearby. The methods differ, but the essence is the same.

Jiang Bei found these scenes endlessly amusing. He loved to watch others, though he wasn’t sure when this fascination had begun. Sometimes he could sit all day on a bench in the square, observing the ebb and flow of people, never growing bored. For him, it was simply interesting, nothing more.

Unfortunately, to some of his female classmates, the truth was not so simple. The reality, as they saw it, went something like this:

“He’s been staring at me for ages, not even blinking. Does he like me?”

“High school is over—should I confess to him now?”

“But what if he rejects me…”

In the buffet restaurant, a girl would sneak glances at Jiang Bei, furtive as a thief, afraid of being discovered. She’d catch a glimpse of his usual faint smile, his quiet presence that seemed to barely occupy space, yet at the same time glowed like a brilliant sun.

Her cheeks would flush, her heart race, and her breath falter. Ah, this damned youth!

Zhang Dong, Zhao Qiang, and Yang Xue had not shared Jiang Bei’s incredible tale of suddenly coming into fifty billion. Perhaps it was because such a staggering sum felt utterly beyond their reach, and Jiang Bei’s own words had been half in jest, half in earnest, impossible to pin down. Or maybe, in their hearts, they preferred to believe that Jiang Bei’s wealthy uncle had simply gifted him some money, not that it amounted to fifty billion.

So, as classmates arrived, talk about Jiang Bei’s sudden fortune didn’t last long. After hearing the explanation—“I suddenly gained an uncle, and he gave me some money”—this group of spirited young men and women, freshly graduated and eager to celebrate, turned their attention to the array of delicious food at their disposal.

No one thought to borrow money from the newly minted tycoon. No one schemed to curry favor with him for the sake of future benefits. Had this scene played out four or five years later, no doubt someone would have tried. But for now, the claws of society had yet to reach these young souls; they were still, for the most part, innocent.

Relatively innocent, at least. For all the furtive looks, the secret glances, the sparkling eyes, there was little that could truly be called pure.

Yet it was beautiful in its own way.

Having eaten his fill, Jiang Bei continued to observe. Yang Xue’s home was not far from his; she was the one among them who had known Jiang Bei the longest. Because of this, she often felt a twinge of annoyance—she understood that Jiang Bei, this charming scoundrel, was simply observing, nothing more, no romantic intentions at all.

With that realization, an old dilemma resurfaced in Yang Xue’s mind. As a girl, and a pretty one at that, she got along well with some of the other girls in class. She knew that tonight, among these lovestruck young women, a few had already mustered the courage to confess to Jiang Bei.

She had tried to dissuade them, genuinely tried. “Really, I mean it—don’t confess to him… No, don’t even like him. It won’t end well, I promise!”

That was what Yang Xue said. But at this age, when a girl likes someone, she simply likes him—reason has little say.

“Xue, you must like him yourself, that’s why you don’t want us to steal him away.”

“Xue, we’re friends—why don’t you confess first? If he says yes, I won’t confess.”

“Xue…”

Yang Xue was exasperated, her face red and her throat tight. “What nonsense are you all talking about? How could I possibly like him!”

Her flustered denials only made her seem more powerless. “I’m doing this for your own good! Hmph, if you won’t listen, don’t come crying to me later!”

The truth was, Yang Xue had liked Jiang Bei once—perhaps she still did, just a little. But last spring, on an afternoon awash with peach blossoms, she had summoned her courage and confessed, only for that handsome scoundrel to reply with a single word: "Thank you."

Love, she thought, could go hang.

Whenever Yang Xue recalled Jiang Bei’s serious expression as he said “thank you” that day, she couldn’t help but fume. Her first ever confession, after working up all that courage, ended with such a mortifying result.

“Unbelievable!” she thought. With that, Yang Xue stopped agonizing—she would not try to talk them out of their confessions anymore.

“I’ve warned you, so if you’re not afraid, go ahead and confess! It’s time you all experience just how heartless that charming scoundrel can be!”

With her anxieties set aside, Yang Xue decided to channel her frustration into eating. Tonight she would indulge herself—there were no classes tomorrow, plenty of time to lose weight later.

She told herself this silently, hoping the deliberate distraction would mask her concern over what might happen if any girl actually succeeded in confessing to Jiang Bei.

What if… what if that scoundrel actually said yes? What would that even mean?

At nineteen, a girl’s heart is so tangled and complex that even she can barely make sense of her own thoughts.

Sun Yao arrived at the restaurant and found Jiang Bei, who was already absorbed in a game on his phone. Jiang Bei turned and smiled at him. “Thank you, I’m very pleased—the food is excellent.”

“Thank you for your satisfaction, Mr. Jiang. I heard that you and your friends have just finished the college entrance exams—are you celebrating?” Sun Yao was indeed surprised by Jiang Bei’s youth. He’d already seen the black gold card Jiang Bei had left with Xiao Wei earlier, and had confirmed its authenticity. There could be no doubt: this handsome young man must come from a powerful family.

In short, Sun Yao was determined that during Jiang Bei’s stay, he should feel every measure of respect and care.

“Our hotel has special offers for this year’s high school graduates,” Sun Yao said, smiling even as he stretched the truth. “The buffet is a bit limited, so I’ve asked the kitchen to prepare some of our specialty dishes for you and your friends. Would that be acceptable?”

Jiang Bei blinked, his smile deepening—he thought he’d found another interesting person.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“Please enjoy your meal. The dishes will be out shortly,” Sun Yao replied, leaving his card with Jiang Bei and assuring him that should he need anything, he need only ask.

Jiang Bei accepted the card and slipped it into his pocket. Sun Yao moved quickly. About ten minutes later, one cart after another, laden with exquisite dishes, was wheeled into the restaurant under his personal supervision, drawing the attention of the not inconsiderable crowd. The covers were lifted to reveal a dazzling array of delicacies.

A female guest, well acquainted with Xiao Wei, tugged at her arm and asked, “Xiao Wei, is this tonight’s restaurant event? Will we get some too?”

Xiao Wei smiled and shook her head. The two were close, so she spoke quietly, with the easy tone of friends.

“Not for you.”

“Why not?”

“Because that handsome guy is a VIP. And you are…”

“A nobody?”

“Precisely.”