While Arden was ordering, Imogen was still shrinking back from social anxiety.
It wasn't until several artfully plated dishes were served that Imogen realized this meal was a completely different concept from what she'd imagined.
"You didn't need to go this all out."
"What's all out about this? Besides, I want to eat it, and you're just keeping me company. Why are you controlling what I eat? Know your place, Imogen!"
"..."
Seeing Arden's mock-serious expression, Imogen knew he didn't want her worrying about the price.
She could only swallow her protests and eat with him.
Soon their appetizers arrived—crispy brussels sprouts with bacon and balsamic reduction, along with truffle fries that looked exceptionally vibrant under the warm lighting.
After the aroma hit her, the savory, umami-rich scent gradually wafted up.
Now her mouth was genuinely watering.
Seeing Imogen's eagerness to dig in but her reluctance to fully commit, Arden picked up a plate and placed it in front of her.
"Eat some of this first."
"You eat too."
"I had something similar for lunch, so I'm good for now. You just go ahead."
"Oh."
Imogen looked down. The rustic wooden board was large, but there wasn't much food on it—just a small portion of golden fried items.
"What is this?"
"Lobster mac and cheese bites, fried."
"I thought it was chicken nuggets."
She tasted it, her eyes sparkling, her small mouth moving non-stop.
Arden watched her with a gentle smile until Imogen became shy, realizing she'd lost her composure, but the boy's face still held that warm smile.
"Don't try to act proper around me, okay? Eat if you want to eat. You'll only have energy to game with me once you're full."
"Mm... thank you."
As their entrees arrived—a perfectly cooked ribeye steak and pan-seared salmon with seasonal vegetables—Imogen gradually relaxed, adopting a bit of a 'screw it' attitude. After all, she'd already demolished Arden's entire box of pastries—her foodie nature was exposed.
No point pretending anymore.
Besides, her niche hobbies overlapped with Arden's, so sharing a meal with him didn't seem so unacceptable.
And he was genuinely wealthy, so taking a small advantage of him actually made Imogen feel less psychologically burdened.
Girls had a strong moral compass; they were extremely reluctant to live with guilt. Often, even if they couldn't repay someone's kindness, they'd find some psychologically acceptable excuse to appease themselves.
This wasn't a criticism—it was just human nature.
The meal lasted an hour and a half. Both filled their stomachs and had an animated discussion about a recently published niche detective comic.
When the waiter was serving dishes, he overheard the two attractive young people discussing "crime scenes," "hiding bodies," and "fleeing," and a look of solemn respect appeared on his face as he quietly retreated.
Well, well.
He'd thought they were just two wealthy student lovers, but it turned out to be a professional hitman and an underworld princess. My apologies, my apologies.
...
"I'll drive you back to campus."
After the meal, Arden led Imogen to his Mercedes GLE and suggested driving her back.
Without waiting for her answer, he got straight into the driver's seat and gestured for her to get in.
Imogen bit her lip and agreed.
The meal had been wonderfully satisfying. Her stomach was full, and she was starting to feel drowsy. The thought of taking the subway and walking back to campus filled her with intense inertia.
At a moment like this, there was a spacious, comfortable, luxury Mercedes right in front of her, and Arden, whose gentle smile gave her a strong sense of security.
The scales of her thoughts didn't take much to tip.
"Tomorrow's Friday, right? I've got a bunch of mandatory attendance classes during the day, so I'll probably be gaming in the evening," Arden said.
"Okay, I'll come over in the evening then," Imogen nodded.
"What do you want for a late-night snack? No rush to answer—text me once you've decided, and I'll make a reservation ahead of time."
"...Mm."
Looking on the bright side, according to Arden's definition, this late-night meal counted as a work expense.
Man, this work experience is too good. Imogen silently sighed with emotion.
The computers in the gaming café's couple booths had high specs—the graphics card was a 4070s, way stronger than Imogen's own laptop's 3060.
Not to mention the absolutely top-tier late-night meals.
She'd seen the bill: the meal plus tip came to over five hundred dollars.
That was just insane!
Of course, considering how upscale the place was, it seemed reasonable. Given Arden's spending habits, he certainly wouldn't cheap out.
Speaking of which, Arden's spending habits were truly mysterious: wearing shoes that cost just over a hundred bucks, eating meals that cost over five hundred, giving off this very casual vibe, like 'I'll do whatever I want.'
This casualness, to some extent, influenced Imogen, making her feel very relaxed when she was with Arden.
It was a rare and pleasant experience lately.
Arden drove to a small gate on the west side of Pennbrook University.
This area was sparsely populated, making it reasonable to drop off the socially anxious Imogen here, and the West Gate wasn't far from her dorm.
As she left, Imogen seemed a little reluctant, turning back for one last look.
The car remained parked there until her figure completely disappeared into campus before it restarted and drove away.
A rare smile curled the girl's lips.
At that moment, on the pedestrian path near the West Gate, a male student in athletic wear stared at the departing Mercedes GLE, his face filled with shock.
He rubbed his eyes vigorously.
If he hadn't seen wrong, the girl who'd just gotten out of that car was Imogen Blake from the legendary dorm?
This wasn't right, not this late at night.
Immediately, the male student's imagination ran wild with all the juicy topics gossipers would love.
But it stayed imagination.
He didn't go spreading it on any public platform.
There wasn't much to spread anyway. In that famous dorm, except for... what was her name? The student forgot, but anyway, the other three girls were already widely rumored about with various nasty stories.
After all, plenty of girls were jealous of them, and everyone automatically activated their 'fact-checking' mode when they saw rumors, usually deeming them false.
Besides, even if those girls were with rich guys, it wasn't exactly unacceptable—that's just how the world worked.
At most people would complain a few times, vent their emotions, and move on.
The real issue that concerned the male student was that one of his high school classmates, who also attended Pennbrook, was extremely obsessed with Imogen.
So the student found his classmate's contact.
"[Dude, I'm out running right now. I just saw Imogen Blake get out of a luxury car, and she looked pretty happy.]"
"[?]"
"[Holy crap, why did you reply instantly? That was fast.]"
"[Haha, didn't expect that, did you? I installed a notification alert on my phone that plays a special sound whenever I get a message mentioning Imogen Blake.]"
"[...]"
Is this the power of CS majors? Terrifying!
The student was stunned.
Then his classmate quickly replied:
"[You must've seen wrong, definitely saw wrong. How could Imogen be returning to campus this late? Right now she should be working in the lab.]"
"[No man, I really didn't see wrong.]"
"[Did you take a picture?]"
"[...Didn't have time.]"
"[No picture, so why are you talking nonsense! I'm going to study. Stop slandering my goddess!]"
Seeing this, the male student gave a helpless smile and shook his head:
"Man, a simp beyond saving!"