Xu Jin stood outside the café for a full minute before entering.
Not because he was nervous.
Well— maybe a little nervous.
But mostly because the café looked like the kind of place that charged extra money for "ambience" and "inner peace." The signboard above him read Moonleaf, painted in soft green strokes, with tiny vines curling around the letters like they had grown there naturally. Through the glass window, warm yellow lights glowed over wooden tables, leafy plants, and cups shaped like clouds.
Xu Jin squinted.
"This place definitely sells overpriced coffee and stolen souls," he muttered.
Still, he straightened his jacket. If he was going to be exploited by capitalism, he would at least look good doing it.
He pushed open the door.
A delicate bell chimed, the sound too gentle for someone about to cause disaster.
The scent hit him immediately— roasted coffee beans, vanilla syrup, faint traces of cinnamon and warm bread. It wrapped around him like a hug he did not consent to but secretly appreciated.
Behind the counter, the café owner looked up.
She was exactly as she had been yesterday— early thirties, sharp red lips, intelligent eyes that looked like they saw through nonsense and billed it hourly.
"You're on time," she said.
Xu Jin clasped his hands solemnly.
"I am a responsible working adult now."
She gave him a look.
"…You said yesterday this wasn't a scam."
Xu Jin coughed lightly.
"Trauma leaves scars."
She gestured toward the counter. "Come. Let's see if you survive the morning."
They started simple.
Or at least, it was supposed to be simple.
"This is the register," she said. "Press what the customer orders. This is the espresso machine. Don't touch random buttons. This is the milk steamer. Don't burn yourself."
Xu Jin nodded seriously, like a soldier receiving classified instructions.
"I understand everything."
He did not understand everything.
But confidence was free.
Then came the apron.
She handed it to him without ceremony.
Green. Bright green. With a tiny embroidered leaf smiling cheerfully at his chest.
Xu Jin unfolded it slowly.
"…This," he said, voice low, "is my uniform?"
"Yes."
He tied it around his waist. The knot sat a little crooked, but he fixed it with determined hands. When he turned back, two university girls at the window table paused mid-conversation.
Girl one blinked.
Girl two whispered, "Oh my god."
Girl one whispered back, "He's cute."
Girl two added, "He looks like he's suffering. I love that."
Xu Jin heard every word.
He decided dignity was optional and walked forward anyway.
The first customer arrived.
A caramel latte.
Xu Jin smiled politely. "One caramel latte. Excellent choice."
He turned toward the register and pressed a button.
Then another.
Then another.
The machine beeped sharply, offended by his existence. A receipt slid out.
DOUBLE ESPRESSO — NO CUP — EXTRA ICE — CANCELLED ORDER FEE
Xu Jin stared at it.
"…No cup?" he whispered.
The owner leaned over his shoulder. Her eyebrow rose slowly.
"…How?"
Xu Jin handed her the receipt with both hands.
"I possess… rare talent."
She sighed. "Move aside before you bankrupt me."
Next came milk steaming.
She demonstrated once. Quick, neat, perfect.
Xu Jin nodded.
Then attempted it himself.
He turned the knob too fast. The milk whirled, hissed, and shot upward in a white fountain, splashing his cheek and apron like it had taken personal revenge.
Silence.
One girl at a nearby table gasped softly.
Xu Jin wiped his face calmly.
"…The milk rebelled."
Girl two whispered, "He's so cute I could forgive him burning down the café."
Xu Jin decided never to look in their direction again.
Time passed.
Mistakes were made.
Registers were re-corrected.
Milk was re-steamed.
Customers smiled, laughed, or stared fondly at the tall handsome employee who clearly had no idea what he was doing but looked polite while doing it.
An elderly lady stepped forward with a cane and kind eyes.
Xu Jin immediately straightened.
"Welcome, ma'am."
She smiled warmly. "Young man, you're very handsome."
Xu Jin bowed slightly.
"Thank you. Would you like coffee or emotional support?"
She burst into laughter so bright it filled the café. "Coffee, dear. And a slice of cake."
"No problem."
As she left with her tray, she turned back and added, "You'll do well in life."
Xu Jin felt oddly proud.
By midday, his feet ached. His hands smelled like coffee. His apron had stains. His hair was slightly messy. And yet— he had not run away.
He leaned against the counter during a quiet moment.
The owner appeared beside him.
"You're clumsy," she said.
Xu Jin nodded. "Extremely."
"You can't make coffee."
Xu Jin nodded again. "A tragedy."
"You flirt with customers."
Xu Jin opened his mouth—
She lifted a finger.
"But you're polite. You don't complain. And customers clearly like you."
Xu Jin straightened.
"So… I pass?"
She handed him a time card.
"You start officially tomorrow."
Xu Jin accepted it like a sacred treasure.
"…I am employed."
"Yes."
"…I will earn money."
"Yes."
"…I will survive."
She nodded once.
"If the café survives you."
Xu Jin smiled anyway.
When his shift ended, he stepped outside into the golden evening.
The air smelled of flowers and car exhaust and warm bread.
He stretched his arms.
"I got a job," he whispered.
Xiao Yushen turned to Liang Chen with a smile that carried just enough smugness to be irritating.
"Let's go," he said. "Coffee. My office."
He didn't wait for an answer.
He simply stepped forward, as if it had already been agreed upon.
Liang Chen exhaled quietly.
"…Professor Xiao."
"Yes?"
"…I do not recall agreeing to this reservation."
Xiao Yushen chuckled. "That's because I made it for you."
The student standing by the door looked between them, then quietly bowed and left, realizing this was a battle he could not win.
As his footsteps disappeared down the corridor, Xiao Yushen leaned slightly closer and murmured in a low voice meant only for Liang Chen.
"You're too popular lately. I'm protecting academic order."
Liang Chen adjusted his bag strap, expression calm but eyes faintly resigned.
"…Then I suppose I owe you coffee."
Xiao Yushen smiled, satisfied.
"Exactly."
And with that, the two professors walked down the corridor together — one serene, one victorious — leaving behind a very confused student and several whispering onlookers who were already preparing gossip for the next group chat.