Chapter 150: My Hands Were Ice-Cold

After returning from Wanzhong Mall, Jiang Qin stayed in Room 208 without going out.

The content team’s warm-up had begun. Quite a few registered users knew about the group buying product that was about to launch. With further guidance, discussions and opinions poured in.

Some cared about delivery, some about quality, and others wanted to know the discount strength.

Jiang Qin’s policy was not to respond much for now, waiting until launch when the content team could address queries with flattery.

“Boss, people from the school office delivered computers and heaters!”

“Quick, quick, receive the goods with both hands!”

Following Wen Jinrui’s voice, Jiang Qin ran out to see workers carrying computers, water dispensers, and heaters into the entrepreneurship base.

Friday, temperatures plummeted, a cold wave hit.

While washing up that morning, Jiang Qin found the water left in the mop pool had frozen.

Breathing out formed visible white vapor.

The entrepreneurship base’s location made heating less effective than classrooms, so the school’s three heaters came in handy, compensating for the insufficient warmth.

Cao Xinyue brought Hongyan and Tang Lin over under the pretext of making a PPT, actually just to share a heater.

Soon, Professor Yan came too, wrapped in a blanket, and refused to leave after arriving.

The heating pipes formed an N-shaped series, with hot water pumped to the roof then flowing downward by gravity, so the ground floor tended to be coldest when the whole building lacked heat.

Professor Yan was elderly and couldn’t tolerate the cold, but his eccentric personality prevented taking advantage of the school’s facilities.

Thus, the “warmth-leeching” version 0.8 emerged.

Originally 16 employees in Room 208, plus 4 from the general office, now 20 people gathered.

More people didn’t necessarily mean livelier, but it was certainly warmer.

The old professor sat across from Jiang Qin, made tea, squinted while putting on reading glasses, and leisurely read the newspaper.

Others typed away at computers in silence, but anyone could sense an obvious urgency in the atmosphere.

Perhaps from breathing warmth, the heaters, or the professor’s teapot steam, Room 208’s windows had fogged over.

“Boss, Wanzhong Mall called to change the delivery time from 8 PM today to 8 AM tomorrow.”

Jiang Qin looked up expressionless: “Who called? How dare they disrespect Linchuan University’s first study star.”

“A manager from the freight department named Zhang. They said it’s too busy during the holidays to handle it.”

“Why did you bother arguing? Any issues should go to the superior manager we deal with, not go hassling our partner. This is a B2B deal – unless it’s a request from Yue Zhu who He Yijun assigned, we won’t accept anything else.”

“But what if Manager Yue agreed to change the time?”

“Definitely not. They’re just trying to negotiate with us privately since Yue Zhu didn’t approve. Tell them changing is fine, you’ll report it to Manager Yue now – they should back off then.”

Skeptical, Dong Wenhao called back per Jiang Qin’s words about reporting to Manager Yue. The Zhang manager immediately changed his tune, saying not to bother the busy Yue Zhu and they’d deliver as originally scheduled by freeing up staff.

“Boss, they’re not changing the time now.” Dong Wenhao looked stunned.

“There will be plenty more things like this. Easier to meet the King of Hell than deal with these minions. As decisions get implemented down levels, each person will have different ideas. Don’t give everyone face or you’ll easily get slapped.”

As he finished speaking, Professor Yan glanced at Jiang Qin, his doubts growing deeper.

He still didn’t understand where Jiang Qin’s incisive ability to see through surfaces to the core came from.

At just eighteen, he couldn’t possibly have real experience navigating interpersonal situations – it was almost devious.

“What are they teaching you all in the Finance School these days?” The professor suddenly asked.

Jiang Qin looked up. “No idea.”

“???”

“What are classes?” Jiang Qin looked baffled.

Professor Yan pursed his lips, sipped his tea, and fell silent.

Meanwhile, Tang Lin also stole glances at Jiang Qin, comparing him to Xue Gang and finding the student council president’s brilliant image looking rather feeble.

There really was a distinct quality about Jiang Qin, not on the same level as the university guys she knew.

Initially, Tang Lin just thought Jiang Qin was a bit handsome.

But now, she felt he seemed to glow, gradually understanding why he became a target sought by campus beauties.

A guy like him didn’t look extraordinarily dashing at first glance, but upon acquaintance you’d find he understood many things you didn’t, his mind filled with knowledge.

“Everyone work hard, I’m going out to take care of something else.”

“Boss, need any help?”

“No need, I’m the boss – the toughest tasks are my responsibility!”

Jiang Qin’s gaze turned profound as he decisively left 208 to fetch Feng Nanshu.

Financial Class 4’s class reunion was tonight, as was the university debate finals.

As soon as he reached the ground floor, the six glamorous 503 girls came downstairs, even the typically reclusive Wang Haini wearing a ladylike khaki windbreaker.

Feng Nanshu looked most beautiful, retaining her ethereal goddess aura, cool until spotting Jiang Qin at which her eyes sparkled.

“Jiang Qin.”

Feng Nanshu’s tone saying his name was soft and sweet.

“Won’t you be cold like that?” Jiang Qin pinched her coat to test its thickness.

The little rich girl shook her head, pulling at her inner sweater. “Not cold, the sweater’s thick.”

“Jiang Qin, you really aren’t going to our reunion?”

Gao Wenhui had also come out.

“I have another event tonight, you all go ahead. Feng Nanshu is with me.”

Hearing this, Feng Nanshu raised her head, her clear eyes shining with delight.

Gao Wenhui felt some regret – not that Jiang Qin wasn’t going, as this was Class 4’s reunion unrelated to Class 3 – but everyone knew if Jiang Qin didn’t go, neither would Feng Nanshu.

She recalled a saying about a married-out daughter being like spilled water.

Feng Nanshu now resembled Class 4’s married-out daughter obediently following her husband.

Then the two groups split, one heading for the school gate to catch a cab, the other crossing the overpass to the central auditorium on East Campus.

The evening chill was heavy as Jiang Qin and Feng Nanshu strolled across the overpass, their breath increasingly visible in the dimming light.

“Jiang Qin, I’m cold.”

Feng Nanshu’s furry little lambskin boots tapped along the overpass.

“Didn’t you just say you weren’t cold?”

Expressionless, Feng Nanshu extended a hand from her sleeve. “My hands are ice-cold, see for yourself.”

“Alas, what can I do, I’ve been a warmhearted person since childhood.”

Jiang Qin said seriously as he took her soft hand and tucked it into his pocket.

“My other hand is cold too,” Feng Nanshu said softly.

The other one?

Put that in my pocket too?

Wouldn’t that be like embracing?

“Let’s warm this one first, we’ll switch sides later,” deflected Jiang Qin, ever unruffled.

“Oh.”

Feng Nanshu gave an expressionless hum, looking even colder than the early winter night.

Winter evenings pass quickly, and by the time they reached the overpass’s midpoint, the lights had turned on, cold rays elongating their shadows while their breath vapors became obvious.

A school photographer standing on the overpass noticed their silhouettes, paused, then raised his camera to take a shot.

Soon after, Jiang Qin brought Feng Nanshu to the brilliant lights at the central auditorium entrance, where debaters and spectators filed inside.

Zhuang Siyu was organizing students to maintain order. Seeing Jiang Qin, she approached.

“Junior, I’ve arranged your seats on row two, 2012 and 2013.”

“Did they change the debate topic?”

“You’ll see once you’re inside.”

Jiang Qin led Feng Nanshu into the auditorium and looking down from the raised seats, saw two horizontal banners hung above the stage.

One was the forum sponsor’s banner, the other displayed the debate topic for this competition.

Affirmative: Even if the outcome is bad, the journey should still be enjoyed

Negative: If the outcome will be bad, there’s no point in starting at all

Jiang Qin took a deep breath and pulled Feng Nanshu towards their seats. Before reaching them he noticed Zhang Baiqing, and unexpectedly, a familiar but not very well-known face: Yao Yanling, president of the Literature Club.

Yao Yanling didn’t expect to see Jiang Qin here and her expression turned slightly awkward.

Years ago she had berated Shi Miaomiao, calling her writing worthless trash. Yet now Shi Miaomiao had become Zhihu’s most popular author.

Previously Yao Yanling had forced club members to cut ties with Zhihu after Jiang Qin accepted Shi Miaomiao’s manuscript, but then Jiang Qin joined the Linchuan Youth Daily and even became a debate sponsor.

Everything had happened too fast in just three months, leaving this once absolute ruler of a senior feeling awkward.

Watching Jiang Qin approach, she expected him to greet her by calling “Senior Sister” or something, but didn’t know how to respond herself.

But the next second, Jiang Qin spoke up.

“President Zhang, fancy meeting you again, I’m tearing up.”