For the next two days, Chen Yansen stayed home, grinding practice problems.
It wasn't until a delivery guy called that he unhurriedly went downstairs to pick up three packages.
They were samples from three different suppliers. Each had sent one MP3 and one MP4 player, and their designs and functions were all more or less the same.
The MP3 player had 2GB of memory and supported SD card expansion up to a maximum of 16GB.
It had a 110mAh lithium battery which, according to the seller, could provide 70 hours of continuous playback and supported MP3 and WMA formats.
On the front was a 1.8-inch display that supported TXT-format e-books. The craftsmanship was a bit crude.
'This is total e-waste!'
Chen Yansen couldn't help but sigh as he toyed with the MP3 player.
But this was 2010. With a wholesale price of around twenty yuan, these would absolutely sell out like crazy at rural town markets.
The MP4 player was much better crafted. They all came with 4GB of memory and supported SD card expansion up to 16GB.
It boasted a 4.3-inch screen, 720p resolution, and a glossy, piano-black finish that looked super classy. It also supported photo viewing, voice recording, and an FM radio.
The wholesale prices from the three suppliers were 105, 110, and 118 yuan respectively—all highly competitive.
"There aren't any major issues with the quality. As for which one to choose, that'll depend on how sincere they are with their after-sales service and freebies."
Chen Yansen studied them for half the day before letting out a long sigh.
RRRIP!
He tore a page from his notebook, leaned over the coffee table, and wrote: Banners, pull-up displays, folding table and chairs, wallet, suit, small change, etc.
He was clearly making the final preparations for his first pot of gold.
After sorting out all the details, Chen Yansen stuffed the note in his pocket and pushed the door open to leave.
On the summer evening, the streets bustled with people. Street vendors at the intersection shouted their wares, and the air was filled with the aroma of fried skewers.
Chen Yansen rode his bike down an alleyway lined with traditional gray-brick and black-tiled houses.
He had originally planned to go to an internet cafe, but halfway there, his stomach started to rumble. It was only then that he remembered he hadn't eaten dinner.
'I should fill my stomach first.'
Chen Yansen turned around at the intersection and, following a route from memory, found a wonton shop.
"A bowl of wontons and a serving of potstickers."
Chen Yansen plopped down and called out to the busy owner at the door.
"Coming right up! Just a moment."
The balding, middle-aged man cracked a grin and hurriedly replied before returning to his work.
'Chunshen in 2010... Every sight of it is a memory in the making.'
Chen Yansen smiled faintly, mocking himself inwardly.
In his past life, he had been so busy making money that after graduation, he wouldn't come back for two or three years at a time. Over time, his memories of this place had naturally faded.
"Chen Yansen!"
Just as he was lost in thought, a familiar voice came from outside the shop.
The voice was clear and quite pleasant, but it was tinged with anger.
"Why didn't you reply to my messages?"
Meng Jie ran over, furious, her fists clenched tightly. From the look on her face, it seemed she really wanted to plant a punch right on Chen Yansen's.
"Did you message me?"
Chen Yansen was taken aback, finding her accusation baffling. He tossed his phone onto the table and jutted his chin out. "Here. Find them and show me."
"You're the one who told me to look. Don't you dare take it back."
Meng Jie picked up the Noaki N78 from the table and opened Mobile QQ. A series of notification chimes immediately rang out.
"Do you ever log into QQ?"
She glanced at the screen, which was covered in little red dots—all unread messages. Meng Jie finally understood. It wasn't that Chen Yansen wasn't replying to *her* messages; he was fair and wasn't replying to *anyone's* messages.
"Who uses that thing? I usually just... make calls."
Chen Yansen's face was full of disdain. The word 'WeChat' almost slipped out, but luckily, he caught himself in time.
"Then who was this person stealing crops from my farm last week?"
Meng Jie pulled out a small, delicate pink Sony Ericsson X10 and pointed to a line of text on the screen, demanding an answer.
'Oh no! [`lOnElY√wAnDeReR`] stole your [Dragon Fruit]! You lost [8] of them.'
'Oh no! [`lOnElY√wAnDeReR`] stole your [Roses]! You lost [5] of them.'
'Oh no! [`lOnElY√wAnDeReR`] stole your [Starfruit]! You lost [2] of them.'
…
Chen Yansen gave an awkward laugh. His crop-stealing frequency was, admittedly, a bit excessive.
"Zihao often helps me idle in-game to harvest crops. It was probably him."
Chen Yansen expertly pinned the blame on Wang Zihao.
"Is that so?"
Meng Jie was clearly unconvinced.
"Give my phone back. I'll reply to you now."
Chen Yansen steered the conversation back on track. He knew perfectly well that Meng Jie's focus wasn't on the stolen crops.
"It's nothing, really. I just wanted to ask you to play basketball."
Hearing him say that, a faint blush suddenly appeared on Meng Jie's face. She grew flustered, clutching the N78 tightly and refusing to give it back to Chen Yansen no matter what.
"If it's nothing, then why won't you let me see?"
Seeing Meng Jie's odd expression, Chen Yansen had an idea and pretended he was about to snatch the phone back.
"I'll give it back in a second! Just give me three seconds."
Meng Jie quickly took a step back and rapidly typed on the keypad. Only when she saw the messages had been completely deleted did she let out a sigh of relief, a smile gracing her lips.
"Deleted them all?"
Chen Yansen asked nonchalantly from his seat.
"Yep."
Meng Jie replied subconsciously, only realizing what she'd said after the word left her mouth.
"So, what exactly did you message me?"
Chen Yansen crossed his arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked her up and down.
"Just asking you to play basketball."
Meng Jie handed the phone back, her smile particularly sly. Her main strategy was plausible deniability.
Chen Yansen wasn't bothered. From her reaction, it wasn't hard to guess the general content of the messages. He took the phone back and casually scrolled through it.
Skipping past a pile of group messages from 'Year Three, Class Eight,' the person who had messaged him the most, other than Wang Zihao, was someone named 'A Smile That Strains the Lips.' The profile picture was a girl with her hair in buns.
He squinted at it, but the picture was so edgy he couldn't recognize who it was. It was probably just some random picture from the internet.
'Chen Yansen, you went too far today!'
'???'
'Why aren't you replying to my messages!'
'This is your last chance. If you don't reply, don't expect me to ever talk to you again.'
'Stop messing around, I'm really angry this time!'
'...'
Chen Yansen casually opened the chat window. After a quick glance, he immediately understood who it was.
'Heh, who has time to mess around with you.'
Chen Yansen couldn't be bothered to reply. He went for the full combo—block and delete—handling it cleanly.
Sitting across from him, Meng Jie leaned forward, watching his actions clearly. After a moment of thought, she started a new topic. "I heard from Haozi that you both applied to Xucheng Academy?"
"We had no choice. Zihao and I are brothers in misfortune. We just barely scraped by the cutoff for Tier 2 universities, so it's the schools choosing us, not the other way around."
Chen Yansen's tone was calm. Although his words sounded pitiful, his expression showed he clearly didn't care.
"Last time, you said I'd miss my placement. Maybe the three of us still have a chance to be classmates."
Meng Jie said cautiously, secretly observing his reaction.
"You put Xucheng Academy as your second choice?"
Chen Yansen looked surprised. He only remembered that Meng Jie would indeed miss her placement this time around. She didn't go to any school and ended up repeating the year, getting into Luzhou Finance and Economics University the next year.
"Yeah."
Meng Jie nodded, replying nonchalantly.
"Let's skip being classmates. I suggest you repeat the year. With your ability, if you try again for another year, getting into a Project 211 university won't be a problem."
Chen Yansen suggested proactively.
"You sound exactly like my dad."
Meng Jie sighed softly and rested her chin in her hand, a wistful look on her face.
A plain white T-shirt hugged her upper body, outlining her slender, delicate figure. Perhaps because they were sitting so close, he could faintly smell the fresh scent of gardenias.
"You haven't forgotten our bet from last time, have you? I like white stockings."
Chen Yansen leaned back, savoring Meng Jie's delicate features. He then suddenly changed the subject, bringing up their old wager.
"Lower your voice! My dad's here."
Meng Jie quickly clamped a hand over Chen Yansen's mouth and glanced outside. Seeing her dad was still chatting with a friend, she finally relaxed.