If this question were handed to Su Li's best friend, Tao Tao—
If Ji Jiaheng had no money, would Su Li still choose to be with him?
Tao Tao's answer would be immediate and merciless:
"Absolutely not."
It wasn't a particularly flattering answer for Su Li. But as the mastermind behind Tao Tao's account—an influencer with over a hundred thousand followers—if Su Li had to be labeled, there were only two words that fit:
Pragmatist.
Genius liar.
Su Li was Tao Tao's content director. Tao Tao had once been an e-commerce advertising model. When the economy dipped, she signed with the MCN agency Su Li worked for.
The persona they built for her was simple and irresistible:
A carefree, rich second-generation heiress.
Fine dining that glittered under warm lights. VIP fitting rooms at luxury boutiques. Casual, consequence-free dates with men of every type.
None of it was real.
The five-star hotels came from group-buy "photo-sharing" deals found online. The luxury goods were rented—or outright replicas. The lifestyle was carefully assembled, detail by detail.
No one cared.
What people wanted was a near-dreamlike version of a twenty-year-old girl's life.
Tao Tao was twenty-seven. Her age was adjusted downward by three years.
Recently, Su Li had planned a new series for her:
The Heiress Demonstrates Flirting Techniques Across Different Scenarios.
The techniques were purely aesthetic—meant to be watched, not learned. The video titles said it all:
"Driving a Panamera to a College Town and Getting Chased by Student Athletes Calling You 'Sister'"
"Winning Over a Finance Guy with a Single Imperial-Green Jade Pendant"
"How to Make a Tech Startup CEO Approach You in an Airport VIP Lounge"
Of course, the Panamera was rented.
The jade was fake.
The VIP lounge was photoshopped.
The men in the videos were either good-looking influencers who hadn't made it yet—or coworkers from the company. No student athletes, blind dates, or tech elites were harmed during filming.
This time, Su Li's new "map" was one of Beijing's famous hip-hop clubs.
The role she designed as Tao Tao's counterpart was a cliché already immortalized online:
The club-hopping international student.
In the script, Su Li outlined him in detail: Balenciaga mixed with Rick Owens. Every third sentence referencing how "part of my soul is permanently left in Santa Monica." Conversations inevitably ending with:
"My place has Netflix. Want to rewatch Stranger Things?"
The plan was perfect.
Except for one thing.
A booth at the club cost five thousand yuan. And Su Li had absolutely no intention of paying that.
"So what do we do?" Tao Tao asked. "Post on Xiaohongshu and split the booth cost with strangers?"
Su Li looked away.
Tao Tao immediately understood.
"You're not serious. You don't even want to split the cost?"
Su Li was unapologetic. "Why waste that money? We'll go at three in the morning. Most people will be gone. We'll just sit in any booth and say we're Jackson's friends."
"Who's Jackson?" Tao Tao asked.
Su Li didn't think this was unreasonable at all.
"If you need a real name to get into character, just pretend Jackson is Jackson Wang. A friend of mine does artist coordination—he's super nice. He definitely wouldn't mind you being his friend."
At three in the morning, outside the club, some of the beautifully dressed crowd was already drifting out.
Su Li and Tao Tao paid no cover and slipped right into the hip-hop club.
The music was still deafening. The dance floor remained lively. Fake bills scattered earlier for atmosphere littered the floor. On the DJ stage, a girl in a bikini and jeans poured alcohol into people's mouths.
The party was in its second half—still euphoric, but exhausted.
Many booths around the dance floor were already empty. Sneaking into one wouldn't be difficult. Su Li's plan was sound.
The only problem was that most occupied booths were filled with couples aggressively making out—far too distracting to serve as background footage.
Then Su Li spotted it.
At the edge of the dance floor, one booth sat almost empty. Only one man occupied it. The table was covered with half-finished drinks—many of them.
Yet the man himself didn't look drunk at all.
He was staring at a laptop.
In the smoke-filled chaos of the club, his screen was the only clean source of light.
Su Li's eyes lit up instantly. Not for romance—purely for logistics.
She grabbed Tao Tao's arm and pulled her over, cautiously perching at the edge of the booth.
The man looked up.
In that moment of eye contact, Su Li registered him fully.
His age hovered somewhere between "boy" and "man." His clothes were simple—a plain T-shirt layered under a shirt, paired with jeans. No visible brand.
He was very good-looking.
High nose bridge. Full, well-defined lips. A small mole on his left cheek.
But what stood out most were his eyes.
Even without a smile, they looked affectionate. Long at the corners, slightly upturned, bright. If he looked at someone for more than five seconds, it gave the dangerous illusion of—
Is he in love with me?
In simpler terms:
He looked at dogs with devotion.
After five seconds of that gaze, Su Li cracked.
"Hi," she said suddenly. "I'm Jackson's friend. Su Li."
The man nodded calmly.
"Hi. I'm Ji Jiaheng. I'm Vivian's friend."
Su Li wondered who Vivian was but didn't dare ask.
Is Vivian another 'everyone's friend,' like Jackson?
"You don't know Vivian?" Ji Jiaheng seemed to read her thoughts. He pointed toward the DJ booth. "She's standing next to Jackson."
Su Li's heart skipped.
There really was a Jackson.
On stage, the DJ wearing a backward cap was scratching records. Beside him stood Vivian—the girl in the bikini and jeans, her figure striking.
She noticed them and waved brightly at Ji Jiaheng.
"Are you waiting for her to get off work?" Su Li asked.
"Yeah," Ji Jiaheng replied honestly. "She told me to wait here."
Su Li looked at Vivian dancing on stage, then back at Ji Jiaheng—plainly dressed, quietly handsome, sitting in a club doing work on his laptop.
Her internet instincts kicked in instantly.
He's her boyfriend.
A student.
Living off his girlfriend who dances at nightclubs.
Now he was waiting to pick her up, sitting comfortably in a booth paid for by her—or was it his patron?
Once she framed it that way, Su Li felt much better.
Everyone was here to freeload. No one had the right to judge.
She smiled warmly at Ji Jiaheng and pulled Tao Tao fully into the booth.
The location problem was solved.
But when Su Li tried contacting the influencer who was supposed to play the "international student," there was no response. Calls went unanswered.
"We agreed on three a.m.," Su Li muttered. "Why can't I reach him? Did something happen?"
"What could've happened?" Tao Tao sighed. "He definitely just slept through it. It's three in the morning. Even night owls have limits."
She glanced at Tao Tao, fully dressed for the shoot, and felt a pang of regret.
Then she changed plans.
Scanning the room for a replacement, the best option was painfully obvious.
Ji Jiaheng sat beside her, typing away on his laptop.
And given his current situation—being financially supported by Vivian—Su Li felt even more confident.
"Jiaheng," she said casually, "if you're free right now, would you be willing to help us shoot a video?"
Ji Jiaheng froze and looked up.
"Me?"
"Yes. You," Su Li said firmly, with the confidence of a working adult addressing a student. "Don't worry. I won't ask you to do it for free. I'll pay you."