Chapter 13: Wang Zhen’s Inner Journey

Wang Zhen couldn’t get close enough for a careful look, but from the earlier ordering, he guessed the amount was not small. Shen Qingyue and Liu Yuting each settled into their seats quietly, their eyes carrying a calm, silent composure.

Li Yan took an Industrial and Commercial Bank credit card from a small cardholder he carried and handed it to the waiter. The waiter nodded, whispered, “Please wait a moment,” and disappeared into the foyer.

After a short while, he returned with the card and the bill, respectfully offering both the card and a pen to Li Yan. Li Yan casually signed his name as if it were the most trivial thing in the world.

Once done, he put the card away and nodded slightly in acknowledgment. The waiter bowed again and withdrew, restoring the soft calm to the private room.

Wang Zhen said nothing, and Shen Qingyue and Liu Yuting grew even quieter.

Li Yan glanced at the time; they had now arrived at the hotel, and the reserved booth at the Shangmei bar was ready.

“Let’s go, next round.”

Naturally, Li Yan was the life of the party—what eighteen-year-old boy with money wouldn’t want to have fun? Especially someone with Li Yan’s personality.

Fine food, beautiful scenery, charming company—Li Yan loved it all.

After settling the bill, the group left the private room. The waiter bowed in farewell, and the soft lighting in the corridor cast their unhurried silhouettes.

A cool night breeze drifted in from the restaurant entrance, carrying the faint dampness of the lake’s surface, invigorating their spirits.

Li Yan pulled out his phone and skillfully ordered two private cars.

After about two or three minutes, two black luxury sedans pulled up at the entrance of Yunjingxuan. The drivers stepped out, opened the doors, and politely invited them in.

Li Yan first helped Shen Qingyue and Liu Yuting into one car, while he and Wang Zhen got into the other.

This arrangement was, of course, for Wang Zhen’s sake.

The atmosphere inside the car was quiet. Li Yan leaned back in the rear seat, eyes relaxed, gazing at the flickering streetlights outside the window.

Wang Zhen sat beside him, a mix of excitement and anticipation in his voice: “Brother Yan, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Li Yan smiled lightly and said offhandedly, “The S-zone booth, right in the center. It was booked beforehand. That bottle of Rémy Martin cognac we didn’t finish last time is still there. Perfect for tonight.”

His tone was calm, as if discussing the most ordinary thing.

Wang Zhen nodded, adjusted his T-shirt slightly, and sat up straighter.

Different people, different fates—this was the most profound realization Wang Zhen had felt since meeting Li Yan.

Sitting in the car, watching the neon-lit cityscape outside the window, a myriad of complex emotions stirred inside him.

From first year to third year of high school, he had witnessed Li Yan’s growth and transformation firsthand, experiencing both the ease and pressure of friendship.

In terms of family background, his own family ran a fairly large supermarket with a stable income, which was considered quite good among their classmates.

But compared to Li Yan, Wang Zhen always felt he was losing out in “brains” and “initiative.”

Li Yan’s nickname, “The Buffett of No.1 High School,” was not given lightly.

In first year, Li Yan’s family conditions were still relatively ordinary, but that year he inexplicably started investing.

Wang Zhen remembered clearly—Li Yan had just completed a fixed investment in a fund and claimed to have earned over thirty thousand yuan in a year. Wang Zhen was wide-eyed in disbelief.

Later, Li Yan’s financial portfolio expanded from funds to stocks, virtual currencies, and even some odd projects.

Wang Zhen once impulsively imitated Li Yan by buying a few stocks. Not only did he fail to make a profit, but he lost several thousand yuan, blowing his entire New Year’s gift money.

“Same high school student, how can the gap be this big?”

Wang Zhen was resentful but had to admit that Li Yan truly understood the art of making money better than he did.

More importantly, Li Yan was not only business-savvy but also had execution power—every step he took was solid and convincing.

After three years, Li Yan’s account balance had long surpassed one million yuan, while Wang Zhen’s pocket money still came from his parents’ “routine allowances.”

More than being good with money, Wang Zhen envied Li Yan’s romantic exploits.

In three years of high school, Li Yan dated seven or eight girlfriends, with countless ambiguous relationships.

By second year, he had already won over the most beautiful junior girl in the grade, while Wang Zhen was still hesitating whether to confess to a hard-working girl in their class.

In third year, Li Yan’s ex-girlfriends were almost all campus beauties, and his reasons for breaking up were always casual: “No feelings anymore, not a good match.”

Wang Zhen recalled once when a few boys in class joked, “How do you manage to get so many girls?”

Li Yan just smiled lightly and said, “Nothing special, just treating them a little better, chatting with them more, and buying some small gifts they like.”

Though said simply, Wang Zhen knew it was far more than just “chatting.”

Li Yan’s confidence, eloquence, and clear sense of purpose were what truly attracted the girls.

Of course, gifting one or two thousand yuan on an LV or Chanel bag certainly didn’t hurt either.

Occasionally, Wang Zhen had the privilege of experiencing Li Yan’s lifestyle.

For example, when Li Yan treated them to meals, it was at places like Yunjingxuan—a high-end restaurant where the average cost was several thousand yuan per person.

When they went to bars, it wasn’t some ordinary dive in a back alley, but top-tier venues like Shangmei.

Each time, Wang Zhen found it novel but also felt the gap more distinctly.

At Yunjingxuan, he was often startled by the prices on the menu, while Li Yan could casually discuss future plans and even critique the preparation of dishes.

The experiences at Shangmei bar left even deeper impressions.

Li Yan always managed to book the best booth in the S-zone and was even on familiar terms with the bar manager.

Every visit saw beautiful girls happily flocking to Li Yan, while Wang Zhen usually sat quietly drinking on the side.

Despite this, Wang Zhen’s attitude toward Li Yan remained a blend of admiration and gratitude.

He envied Li Yan’s confidence and capability and enjoyed the opportunity to broaden his horizons as his friend.

Now, with the college entrance exam over, Wang Zhen had chosen a third-tier university in Sichuan, largely to maintain contact with Li Yan during university.

He believed that as long as he was in the same place as Li Yan, his life might change somewhat as well.

Naturally, Li Yan was not a prodigal spender. The reason he brought Wang Zhen along was partly because of their close friendship, but also because Wang Zhen was sensible.

Although there was a big gap in their spending, Wang Zhen never took advantage.

They reciprocated invitations, albeit at different levels, but Li Yan could feel the sincerity behind it.

When the cars stopped in front of Shangmei bar, the dazzling neon lights and the faint sound of deep music filled the night with an air of luxurious tension.

Shangmei, the most prestigious nightlife venue in Luzhong City, was renowned for its high expenses and top-notch service—a place many desired yet few dared to enter.