Pei Xingyan could even discern that some of her explanations were born from recent, hasty research, compiled specifically to lecture him after looking up a few knowledge points, and quite frankly, contained obvious errors.
He could only lament that she was, in essence, a child deprived of her childhood, so easily swayed by even the slightest praise that she would become giddy, even actively seeking out such affirmation.
It was equally apparent to him that she genuinely lacked friends with whom she could confide, harboring a multitude of unsaid thoughts that had finally found a receptive audience; at times, she would speak unilaterally for an hour without pause.
During these moments, Pei Xingyan would assume the role of an attentive listener, offering neither opinions nor judgments on her thoughts, simply absorbing her words in silence.
Such instances never called for elaborate encouragement; merely letting her know he was listening sufficed.
Several days passed in this manner, and now Lin Xiaoyu had virtually adopted Pei Xingyan as her exclusive confidant.
She finally began to lower her guard, gradually weaving snippets of her own life into their conversations.
Pei Xingyan learned that for Lin Xiaoyu, it wasn’t just the piano; she had been subjected to stringent demands in every facet of her life, having always existed under such intense pressure.
In truth, other aspects were manageable; she had been raised with such expectations from childhood, living a life of resigned obedience, where no matter how exorbitant the demands, she merely had to lower her head and endure to get through it.
Yet, only with the piano, in her own words, was she “just a child with no talent”; no matter what she did, she could not meet her parents’ expectations.
Even if she toiled until she vomited blood, it was insufficient.
Pei Xingyan deeply understood this; matters of art were precisely so, where innate talent far outweighed mere perspiration.
At times, even the most diligent efforts of the untalented could not bridge the chasm to their goals—an insurmountable ravine.
Beyond that, Lin Xiaoyu complained about every single element of her life.
She lamented her inability to live in dorms and her dearth of true friends.
She grumbled that the philosophy department, chosen by her parents purely for its prestige, was a worthless subject, asserting she had never gleaned a single useful piece of knowledge from it.
She bemoaned her utter dislike for the piano, explaining that her very reflex upon sitting before the instrument was to weep.
Despite the disheartening nature of her words, her mood steadily improved; the empathetic listener, who absorbed her incessant murmuring without ever betraying annoyance, became her crucial pressure release valve.
Each time she vented her emotions, she felt significantly better, eventually even allowing laughter to escape her lips.
She would sometimes remark:
“It feels like talking to you has become quite addictive~”
****
“It feels like it’s becoming a little addictive, doesn’t it~” Tang Xin said, her lips pursed as she spoke in a mocking, sarcastic tone.
For some inexplicable reason, a vague sense of irritation stirred within her whenever she heard the girl speak with that slightly coquettish lilt.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Pei Xingyan retorted, raising an eyebrow.
“After all, we accepted a 30,000 yuan deposit from that girl.
If you don’t put in the effort, be careful, she might demand her money back.
Miss Tang Xin, you wouldn’t want to find out how hard a courtroom bench is, would you?”
“That may be true, but you can’t let your relationship with her become like a romantic one, can you?” Tang Xin countered, unwilling to back down.
“Why not? In a desperate situation, this could be a lifesaver!”
“Ah? You’re actually thinking that way? No, no, no!” Tang Xin exclaimed, demonstrating a flurry of ‘Five Thunder Palm’ (TL Note: A fictional martial arts move, likely used here for comedic exaggeration) strikes before Pei Xingyan, executing them with fierce, almost tiger-like vigor.
“Why are you so agitated? I’m not talking about you.”
“But, but…” She faltered, momentarily speechless, before finally blurting out after a long pause, “I’ve already sold you to the next client…”
“What?”
Pei Xingyan nearly tumbled off his chair and into the flowerbed, feeling as though he had just heard an alien language, comprehending not a single word.
“What do you mean, ‘sold me’?” he demanded, furrowing his brow.
“Kidnapping and human trafficking are illegal, you know?”
“I know, I know…” Tang Xin replied, clutching her chest guiltily.
“What I mean is, the next client is seeking *that kind* of emotional solace…”
“Organizing prostitution carries a sentence of five to ten years,” Pei Xingyan declared, holding his phone, transformed into a merciless machine spouting criminal law.
“Just listen to me…” Tang Xin whispered, explaining, “It’s not what you’re thinking… I’ve been talking to a new client these past two days, and she’s incredibly generous, but her objective is a bit peculiar… She needs to find a boyfriend…”
“So you agreed on my behalf?” Every muscle in Pei Xingyan’s face twitched.
“Not exactly agreed, I just accepted a deposit… We were just about to discuss it, weren’t we?
She said she needs a boyfriend, and what good is it if only I agree?” Tang Xin explained.
“But I’m telling you, this girl is incredibly beautiful, and she has a wonderful personality, you wouldn’t lose out—”
“No, no, no!
Why would such a wonderful girl need to find a boyfriend through this method?
Never mind, that’s not important.
First, tell me, why has the ’emotional solace’ project morphed into ‘boyfriend rental’?”
“It’s not ‘boyfriend rental’; she simply said she wants to experience what it feels like to *have* a boyfriend,” Tang Xin’s voice grew increasingly uncertain.
“According to her, she’s never found a man she fancied growing up, yet she desperately wants to fall in love, so now she’s been diagnosed with quite unhealthy psychological issues… I thought, with a man as excellent as you, handling her would be a breeze, wouldn’t it?
So I agreed…”
“…”
“Alright, alright, if you don’t like it, I’ll just refund the deposit.
After all, we’re partners; I can’t force you…” Tang Xin made the decision with a pained expression, yet she was still fighting a retreating battle.
However, upon catching Pei Xingyan’s displeased gaze, she quickly slid to her knees in apology.
“I’m sorry! I was just blinded by her total remuneration of 500,000 yuan… I’m really sorry!”
“How much?”
“F-five hundred thousand yuan…” Tang Xin pulled out her phone, a transfer record of 150,000 yuan prominently displayed.
‘Holy shit!’
Pei Xingyan couldn’t help but gasp, drawing a sharp breath to steady himself; this was a 500,000 yuan deal.
If it succeeded, he would receive a full 350,000 yuan!
Combined with Lin Xiaoyu’s current project, that would be 420,000 yuan, nearly a tenth of the money he needed, all in one go.
He couldn’t help but feel a surge of temptation, the corners of his eyes curving downward in a smile.
“So that’s how it is, Tang Xin,” he said, rubbing his hands together with a lewd grin.
“You’re sure there aren’t any projects involving illegal activities like selling oneself, right?”
Those whose eyes were clouded by money always appeared rather lewd.
“No! Definitely not!” Tang Xin quickly shook her head.
“The agreed-upon terms are for you to provide emotional value and help the girl overcome her difficulties.”
“That’s good then… Hehe…” Pei Xingyan chuckled, his unspoken thoughts conveyed entirely through his expression.
Tang Xin paused for a moment, then, understanding completely, returned an even more lewd smile.
The passing crowd, oppressed by their combined aura, quickly distanced themselves.
They had reached an understanding.
‘Organizing prostitution? No, that’s merely a referral fee and a matchmaker’s red envelope!’