Gu Fancheng stood in the shadow by the escalator, the mall's bright lights unable to reach him.
"Go on," he said. He didn't wait for me to think it over—he pressed a kiss to my cheek and then nipped my ear. "The PIN is your birthday. Buy whatever you want. Decide for yourself."
"I don't want it!"
My face flamed. I tried to shove the card back into his hand, embarrassed and stubborn.
Before I could, Zhao Zifeng's hand shot in and snatched it away. "No way—that’s a black card from one of the big banks! Xixi, is your boyfriend rich? Where does he work?!"
Zhao's sister worked at a bank and knew every card in circulation like the back of her hand.
"Don't—don't call him my boyfriend!" I hissed. Zhao's mouth was a running faucet; I could never stand her loose tongue.
"How is he not your boyfriend?" Zhao crowed at Gu Fancheng, eyes gleaming. "'Xixi isn't going home tonight…' Who said that? You expect me to believe you two will just play games together all night?"
My face burned hotter. I lunged to tickle Zhao to shut her up.
Gu Fancheng made no move to rescue me. He seemed to enjoy watching me turn crimson.
Zhao shoved the card into my jeans pocket while begging off in mock surrender. Then, looping an arm through mine, she hopped onto the escalator with a triumphant grin. "If I don't go through that card today, I won't let Xixi out of the mall!"
As we crossed the bright yellow safety line, I glanced back. The patch of shadow where he'd been standing was empty.
That thin line felt like a dividing line between light and dark.
"Oh, men—heartless through and through," Zhao teased, tossing her head. She shot me a look and smirked, "Xixi, looks like you can't even keep him wanting you. What's going on in the bedroom, huh?"
"Shut up or I won't speak to you!" I snapped, heat prickling my ears. Where on earth had Zhao learned to talk like that?
The mall swelled with people; every floor was crowded with young faces. Zhao steered me toward the clothing section like she owned the place.
"Zifeng—I'm not buying clothes."
She was already rifling through racks of delicate dresses. I tugged at her sleeve and lowered my voice. "I haven't saved up my tuition yet. I can't blow money. I only have two hundred cash and my phone's broken—I'll be buying you dinner later, remember?"
"Please, playing poor," Zhao said, a hand thumping my forehead. "You've got your boyfriend's card—what are you scared of?"
"I won't use his money!" I shook my head so hard it hurt. "What if I can't pay him back?"
"Then you pay him back in person," Zhao said with a wicked grin. She looked around like a conspirator and then, to my horror, reached out and groped my chest. I nearly screamed.
"What are you doing?!"
"See? Nice hands. Xixi, your boyfriend's technique is working wonders—looks like you've moved from A to C!" She hauled me into a lingerie boutique and, between tidy rows of pretty underthings, whispered, "You can't keep wearing sports bras—you'll never develop. Buy a couple of shaping sets. Go show your boyfriend what he's missing."
She shoved two lacy, expensive-looking sets into my hands. "Try them on. My taste is impeccable. When you get home, he'll go wild… ah, what was his name again?"
"I don't want them!" I blushed, burning, and shoved them back.
The sets were almost entirely lace—no modesty at all—and the price tags made my stomach drop. A sliver of fabric for nine hundred yuan? It felt like robbery.
"Hey, you two!" The boutique was not a student hangout. Even though our voices were low, a sales assistant had come over. She had reddish-brown, wavy hair and walked straight up to Zhao. "If you're not buying, then please don't touch—if you soil anything, you can't afford to pay for it."
"Excuse me?" Zhao shot back. "Who says we're not buying?"
The assistant sized us up like we were an awkward joke—two students out for window shopping—and gave a tight, fake smile. "Oh? Actually buying? Then have you picked anything yet?"
I didn't want a scene and I didn't want the fancy things. I tugged on Zhao's sleeve. "Forget it. Let's just get something to eat."
"Then don't touch anything," the assistant said with a smile that said she didn't mean it. "You never know who carries germs. It's irresponsible to other customers."
Zhao wasn't poor, just practical—but being scolded lit her fuse. She grabbed five or six pieces off the racks and shoved them into my arms. "Come on, Xixi—try them. We'll pay with the card."
"Oh, people still use cards?" the assistant said with a little theatrical gasp. "Mobile pay is so convenient—don't let the card come up short. That would be embarrassing."
Fine. I went along with it to calm Zhao down. I picked a plain, modest lavender bra from the pile—priced at 178.00—right within the two hundred in my pocket.
"Well, well—who's making a mess in my store?" A voice cut through. The assistant parted like a curtain, and a familiar figure stepped in: Jiang Yingxue, striding on tall lace-up boots.
"I thought it was someone else—our future expatriate class rep!" Zhao shot back, the irritation in her voice turning into barbed humor. "What's wrong, foreign universities didn't take you?"
Jiang's face kept that same disdainful smile. "You lot are studying for jobs. I study for fun. I wanted something to do, so I opened a shop. What do you think? Good taste, right?"
She gave a deliberately flirtatious twirl.
"Wait—this place is yours?" Zhao's eyes widened. This boutique occupied prime mall real estate; a store here couldn't have opened on a whim.
Jiang ignored Zhao and turned to me. With two fingers she pinched the modest lavender bra I was about to buy and sneered, "I thought Lu Xiyu finally had a change of heart—buying something nice. But of all places to shop, you end up with last season's scraps in a luxury store."