Chapter 22: Forty Thousand

“Auntie, are you all right?” Chen Meng asked, inwardly feeling uneasy, wondering if he had just been a little too pleased with himself.

“I must admit, you almost fooled me just now. You took advantage of my concern for Wen Jing and set a trap for me, making me spend money on you. Indeed, you’re quite clever,” Shen Man said slowly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such a cunning young man. If you really were to marry my daughter, I think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“Auntie, what are you saying? I don’t understand. Does this mean you’re not going to give me money to leave your daughter?” Chen Meng replied with innocent confusion, though his heart was bleeding. If only he had agreed when she offered him one hundred thousand—now it seemed he wouldn’t get even that.

“Stop pretending. I’ve seen right through your little tricks,” Shen Man said coolly.

“So you really won’t give me any money?” Chen Meng persisted, unwilling to accept the loss. How could the duck cooked and ready to eat suddenly fly away?

“What do you think?” Shen Man glared at him, her mood sour. She had nearly been outwitted by Chen Meng today, and it was hardly something she could share with others.

Seeing the certainty in her eyes, Chen Meng knew his performance had ultimately failed.

He was still too young.

“Well then, I’ll just drink more coffee. Can’t let the trip be wasted. Judging by the price here, each cup costs one hundred and thirty-nine. Honestly, this is the first time I’ve had such expensive coffee. The taste is indeed special. Too bad I can’t take a cup home for my mom.” Chen Meng sighed. If his mother knew he’d enjoyed the high-end coffee at Crimson, which she herself was reluctant to buy, she’d surely be jealous.

Shen Man looked at him and saw no trace of deception. From her purse, she took out a wallet and handed him a card marked “Crimson”—it was a Supreme VIP annual card. “This is a non-personalized Supreme VIP annual card for Crimson Café. It’s yours.”

What was this, a token of their meeting?

Had his sincerity moved her?

Since she was offering, Chen Meng didn’t hesitate and immediately took it.

“How do I use it?” he asked, noting the card seemed of high status.

“You can have two cups of coffee at any Crimson Café each day. If you exceed two cups, you pay half price. There are other perks—skip the line, book in advance, things like that,” Shen Man explained. She herself only visited every now and then for a cup.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Chen Meng said, surprise flickering in his eyes. He noticed the card was valid for seven more months.

“I’m leaving,” Shen Man rose, picked up her bag, and put on her sun hat. “And don’t tell my daughter we met.”

“I understand,” Chen Meng replied, all for the sake of the Supreme VIP card.

Shen Man hurried away. Chen Meng guessed she would probably pick up Tang Wen Jing from school herself today.

Watching the flow of people outside heading home from work, he waited until Shen Man was gone before beckoning a waitress over. When she arrived, he smiled, “Miss, is it possible to return this card?”

The waitress glanced at the Supreme VIP card in his hand, momentarily stunned; this was the first time she’d seen someone trying to return one.

“No, you can’t,” she said, shaking her head. Chen Meng was disappointed but already thinking of a way to deal with the card.

“Then give me two cups of coffee, the same kind we drank today. I’ll take them to go,” Chen Meng said.

“Certainly, please wait a moment,” the waitress replied.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Chen Meng stood at the café’s entrance with two cups of coffee, stopping a man who looked like a successful professional.

The man was dressed fashionably, clearly trying to attract attention. Yet, Chen Meng noticed a small hole in his sock—a sign he wasn’t truly wealthy. A real rich person, except perhaps for an irresponsible heir like Tang Wen Jing, would have tossed such socks long ago.

“Brother, I’ve got a Supreme VIP card for Crimson Café, still valid for seven months. I’m willing to sell it cheap,” Chen Meng said to the man, and before the man could ask, Chen Meng added, “Don’t ask why I’m selling it. The card isn’t actually mine—it’s my mother’s. She’s just cut off my allowance, you know how it is.”

The man saw Chen Meng’s frustrated expression and guessed he was a rich kid in a spat with his family, now short on cash and ready to sell the Supreme VIP card.

“How much?” the man asked decisively. This card was a perfect tool to impress. He knew it wasn’t something money alone could buy, and if he owned it, he could easily win over any beautiful woman.

Chen Meng thought for a moment, then said through gritted teeth, “I won’t bother mentioning the original price. Just with this card, you can drink two cups at any Crimson Café every day. It’s worth at least fifty thousand.”

The man sucked in a breath at the price.

Chen Meng saw he was shocked, probably because his finances were limited. “You can do the math—two cups a day, even at mid-range prices, that’s about two hundred and fifty a day. Seven months adds up to fifty-two thousand five hundred, more than fifty thousand. And after two cups, you pay half price for extra coffee, plus perks like skipping the line and booking ahead.”

The man wasn’t stupid and did the math himself. “But fifty thousand is too much. At most... I’ll pay forty thousand.”

Chen Meng saw the pain in his expression; even if he tried to ask for more, it would be difficult.

“All right, deal. You’re getting a real bargain,” Chen Meng said, acting as if the man had gotten the better of him.

He knew—even with the card, the man wouldn’t come every day for two cups. If he wanted to treat others, after two cups, it was half price, but the café would still profit.

“Transfer the money to my phone. My account is…” Chen Meng watched the man make the transfer, confirmed it was done, and handed him the Supreme VIP card.

“Wait, let me borrow your phone for a call.”

Chen Meng remembered his evening tutoring session; he was already running late, and needed to deliver the coffee home and check if the forty thousand had arrived. There was no way he could make it to the tutoring.

Of course, making a call would also let him keep the man’s phone number in case anything happened.

The man hesitated, then nodded. “Here you go. Careful not to drop it—it cost over five thousand.”

Chen Meng smiled, dialed the tutoring center, explained his situation, then handed the phone back and left with the two cups of coffee.

…

Returning home, his mother Xu Xiu was surprised to see him with two cups of coffee.

Chen Meng had already prepared his excuse. “Mom, this is Crimson Café coffee—the one you’ve always wanted to try. They had a promotion today: Buy one, get one free.”

“Crimson Café?” His mother was a little surprised, recalling there was a branch near his high school.

“Son, even with the promotion, where did you get the money?”

“Mom, I saved it bit by bit. I know you’ve always wanted to try their coffee, but since I spend so much for school, you never let yourself buy it.” Chen Meng’s sincerity shone through. “Half a month ago, I saw their promotion announced for today, so I decided to spend all my saved money to buy you two cups. Mom, I can’t earn money yet, but once I graduate from college, I’ll take you to Crimson Café every day.”

Upon hearing this, his mother Xu Xiu’s eyes grew moist.

This was her son—he was finally growing up.

Chen Meng saw her expression and felt guilty; he could already earn money, and today had made forty thousand, nearly matching her annual salary. The two cups of coffee were nothing.

“Son, I believe you. But from now on, let’s not bring it home—the taste is best when enjoyed in the café.” She said, leaving Chen Meng speechless.

…

With these two cups, Chen Meng felt his mother should soon recover from the shadow cast by the five thousand she’d lost.

Perhaps, he could soon ask for money again.

He went to his room to check his phone. Last time, he’d spent ninety-six hundred at the UFO Shooting Range, then withdrawn some cash, leaving only one hundred. Now, his account showed forty thousand one hundred—the man’s forty thousand had indeed arrived.

“I never expected it—I finally made money off Wen Jing’s mother,” Chen Meng sighed. “The wealthy truly are different. She probably never realized the card could be sold.”

He thought for a moment and searched Shen Man’s name online.

The first result was a profile: General Manager Shen Man, Jiangzhou Qianling Pharmaceutical Company.

…

Chen Meng had discovered Shen Man’s identity. That evening, at eight o’clock, Shen Man received a call from her driver.

“Director Shen, you were right. Your daughter’s classmate may not be as much of a slacker as he seems. Last week, he scored first in the class on the rune test. I asked Miss Tang’s rune teacher, Mr. Yang, and he confirmed it. He even suggested Miss Tang learn more about runes from Chen Meng.”

“Runes are difficult,” Shen Man mused.

“One more thing: Chen Meng sold the Crimson Supreme VIP card, right after you left the café. He got forty thousand for it,” the driver said cautiously.

Shen Man was stunned for a long time, utterly taken aback.

…

Early the next morning, a new day began.

Chen Meng went to school as usual. On the way, Ma Yiqun suddenly said, “Chen Meng, isn’t the college entrance exam going to add a shooting test? A lot of students are worried, so some signed up for shooting lessons outside school. I’ve always had a psychological block about shooting and never practiced much, so I signed up for a class.”

Chen Meng frowned, “How much did it cost?”

Ma Yiqun winced, “Five thousand!”

Chen Meng felt a pang—he was a step too late!