As Zeng Xin and Liu Yu left, I followed Qi Xu to the parking lot, messaging Zeng Xin about helping him recapture the feeling of first love.

She replied with a simple “OK,” no further comment on my lengthy explanation.

In the passenger seat, I searched “first love” on my phone—words like innocence, subtlety, and heart-fluttering popped up.

Locking the screen, I saw my reflection: Come on, Ye Zhixia!

Qi Xu took me to a familiar pedestrian street, bustling at rush hour with couples strolling hand-in-hand—a dating hotspot.

He bought casual clothes from a shop: “Let’s eat first.”

I nodded.
He extended his hand: “Hold hands.”

“Huh?” I stared at his hand, thinking of the 300,000 yuan, and slowly reached out.

He grabbed my hand!

Startled, I yanked it back.

Realizing his request, I knew I’d messed up.
I glanced up: “Let’s try again. I won’t pull away.”

Qi Xu’s breathing paused, then he smirked: “Do it your way.”

Boldly, I grabbed his index finger.
Holding hands wouldn’t kill me.

Maybe I’m the ultimate straight guy at heart, unlike Zeng Xin.

He glanced at his finger, wiggling it.
Since he said to do it my way, I’d perform well.

Let’s play big with small stakes.

I smiled: “Don’t take me anywhere over 200 yuan—I can’t afford it.”

He froze.
I blinked: “I’m broke.”

Was that weird?
I wasn’t like Gao Yang, spending 200 yuan to play basketball with a girl.

“Fine.” He led the way, clearly familiar with the area.

Not as familiar as me—I knew which trash cans stank the most.

I drew attention.
Passersby glanced at me, then Qi Xu.
He took me to a grounded place—a small eatery.

Here, I wasn’t worried about costs.
Dishes were 10-20 yuan, generous portions.
Feeding him full might cost 60-70 at most.

But… spending this left no room for error.
Over 50 yuan, I’d be short for the textbook fee.

In the eatery, two couples sat side-by-side, unlike friends facing each other, looking intimate.

Mimicking them, I sat next to Qi Xu, handing him the menu: “You order.”

He said little, quietly scanning the menu: “Fried noodles, fish balls, beef offal, and… milk tea!”

He passed me the menu.

“I just had milk tea. Not hungry.” I set it down, eyes lingering on the red menu—already over 50 yuan!

He glanced at me; I smiled back.

The dishes, prepped in the kitchen, came quickly.
I handed him chopsticks: “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Dating felt boring.
To help him feel first love, I couldn’t use my phone—I had to perform.

300,000 yuan!

Seeing me not eating, he asked: “What, one milk tea filled you up?”

I rolled my eyes: “Yeah, I’m full. Dieting!”

I loved beef offal—Lin Yinyin made it once, salty and fragrant.
I’d let him eat first, hoping he’d leave some.

As the plates emptied, he ate only half of each.

I smiled faintly: “I’m good. Eat more.”

His skeptical gaze flickered.
I kept smiling to hide my thoughts.

Then he polished off everything—quite an appetite.

I stood to pay—55 yuan, the most I’d ever spent on food.
For the 5-yuan shortfall, I’d borrow from Zeng Xin.

Qi Xu, full, let me hold his finger as we walked.
Then he stopped: “Time for a return gift. Name what you want.”

I scratched my head: “A gift for eating?”

He said flatly: “Yeah, anything.”

Reciprocity?
I liked that!

“Anything…” Scanning around, my eyes landed on a toy stall by a jewelry store.

Following my gaze, he smirked coldly.

I pulled him toward it; he tugged me back: “Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Huh?” His words stabbed like a knife.
Why say that?

He scoffed: “Go on.”

“No thanks,” I said, my excitement fading.

My status never matched others.
Long ago, naive, I lent a kid 50 cents, believing he’d repay 1 yuan.

I never got it back.
When I found him and asked for money, he refused.

Laughably, Qi Xu, a big boss, toyed with me too—building my hopes, then humiliating me with “ashamed.”

Paying for his meal was my choice.
If he didn’t want to reciprocate, he shouldn’t have offered anything.

What a cheap trick.

Hurt, I forced a smile, continuing the date.
Just a pitiful money-seeker acting in his play.

“Buy it! Gotta buy.” He grabbed my wrist, attitude reckless, bypassing the toy stall.

“We passed it! Where are you going?” I glanced back at a remote-control SUV, pulling him.

He frowned: “Buying what you want!”

I bit my lip, eyeing the car: “Forget it, let’s keep dating.”

It’s fine—once he feels first love and I get 300,000, I’ll buy it myself!

My eyes welled with grievance—I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone.

He noticed the stall: “Wait, what did you want?”

I didn’t face him, mumbling: “Nothing.”

I tugged him away, wiping my eyes.
No crying—if he got mad, the 300,000 was gone.

He pulled me back: “Tell me what you wanted.”

Turning, head low, I avoided his face, pointing at the remote-control car.

His grip tightened: “Misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood what?”

“The jewelry store behind the stall.”

“Uh, let’s go.”

Was I crazy?
55 yuan for food in exchange for gold?
Impossible!

“Sorry.” He pulled me back.
I planted my feet: “Not buying!”

I had no thoughts, just clarity—when I succeeded and earned my own money, I’d have anything I wanted.

Relying on others was unrealistic.