Linlin didn’t want to talk about such unpleasant topics. She stood up and twirled around. “Do I look pretty today? Big Sister Yaoyao sent these clothes to me from Shanghai.”
“Very pretty.”
Thinking about what she had just said, Yan Yuan’s heart clenched. He pulled her back into his arms. “From now on, I’ll buy all your clothes.”
Linlin’s breath caught, and she blurted out, “Don’t get spoiled just because I dote on you.”
Yan Yuan froze for a moment before realizing what she meant. He buried his face against the side of her neck and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Even through several layers of clothing, Linlin could clearly feel the laughter shaking his chest and abdomen.
His warm breath brushed over her delicate neck, and she suddenly felt embarrassed. She shrank her neck and tried to pull away.
But Yan Yuan refused to let her go. He tightened his arms around her, then pressed his forehead against hers and gazed at her with bright, star-like eyes. “Hmm? You spoil me?”
Meeting his undisguised, delighted, and affectionate gaze, Linlin felt as though she were about to catch fire. She awkwardly leaned back, her eyes darting around as she tried to wriggle free of his embrace.
“Stop that. What if someone sees us?”
“Who’s here?” Yan Yuan asked with a carefree laugh.
Linlin glared at him angrily.
His smile was captivating, his narrow eyes curling upward at the corners and giving him a rakish charm. His thin lips were unbelievably attractive.
Linlin had wanted to take advantage of him for a long time.
On impulse—she didn’t even know what had come over her—Linlin suddenly raised her hand with some difficulty and placed it on his shoulder. Rising onto her tiptoes, she lightly pressed her lips to his slightly curved mouth.
She’d kissed him…
Linlin’s entire face turned bright red in an instant. Her ears trembled twice, then flushed with a bashful blush. She didn’t dare look up at him.
Strictly speaking, this was their first kiss.
Only then did Yan Yuan recover from his shock and realize what had just happened.
He touched his lips in a daze, unable to believe it. It seemed he could still feel the softness of the girl’s lips and catch their enchanting fragrance—a lingering, teasing sensation.
His eyes gleamed as he replayed the sight of Linlin rising onto her toes to kiss him.
Her clear, radiant eyes had blinked guiltily, her expression so sweetly shy that his heartbeat instantly spiraled out of control.
The intense flutter in his chest made him feel as if electricity were coursing through every inch of his body. A fierce heat rose in his heart.
Seeing that the girl in his arms was about to combust, Yan Yuan’s gaze darkened. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “All right. We should go out.”
They couldn’t stay at home any longer.
Linlin looked up at him in confusion. “Where are we going?”
Yan Yuan’s voice was hoarse. “The village. Want to come?”
“I do.”
It was indeed a village, but it wasn’t far from Capital University. It was Zhongguan Village in Sijiqing Township, just north of the campus.
Yan Yuan rode his bicycle with Linlin sitting behind him. They followed the village road farther and farther in. The poplar trees lining the roadside were bursting with fresh green leaves, and hardly any other vehicles could be seen.
Linlin sat sideways on the back of the bicycle, her fingers gently twisting the corner of his white shirt. The wind carried the scent of grass toward them. She rested half her cheek against his back, curious about where he was taking her.
The bicycle turned one bend after another before stopping in front of an abandoned warehouse.
Yan Yuan locked the bicycle, then took Linlin’s hand and led her inside with practiced familiarity.
The sight inside made her pause.
The room was more spacious than it appeared from outside. A boxy machine sat in the middle, giving off a faint buzzing sound. The air was filled with the unpleasant smell of heated plastic.
There was only one man inside, around fifty years old and rather thin. Hearing them enter, he didn’t even look up. “Why are you so late today?”
“I had something to take care of. Let me introduce you. This is my girlfriend, Linlin.”
The middle-aged man looked up at Linlin, seemingly uninterested. He nodded, then lowered his head and went back to tinkering with the machine parts spread out before him.
Yan Yuan squeezed Linlin’s hand. “This is Professor Chen. He’s just like that. It’s not because of you.”
Even with the man standing right beside them, Yan Yuan had no qualms about speaking ill of him.
Linlin studied the middle-aged man. He truly didn’t seem to care.
Chen Chun had originally been a researcher at the Institute of Physics of the Chinese Academy of Sciences and an expert in nuclear fusion.
After visiting Silicon Valley in the United States in 1980, he returned to China and proposed the idea of building a Chinese Silicon Valley.
After the reform and opening-up, he was also the one who founded the country’s first private science and technology service organization: the Capital Plasma Society Advanced Technology Development Service Department.
In its early days, however, the organization was criticized for “profiting through capitalist means and lining its own pockets.” Chen Chun had endured years of criticism from many people in academic circles.
It was only last year that a central leader personally issued written instructions affirming his experiment.
Yan Yuan was essentially his student.
When Chen Chun first founded the organization, he had worked almost entirely alone, providing technical consultations, equipment debugging, and technical training. By now, it had grown to more than twenty people.
When Yan Yuan had just graduated, Chen Chun had wanted to recruit him. But at the time, Yan Yuan had no great ambitions or goals. Compared to working there, he chose to take a position at the university.
This year, Yan Yuan had been the one to seek Chen Chun out.
Chen Chun hadn’t held a grudge over the past, though he had made sure to squeeze Yan Yuan a little harder than the others.
The organization still had little scale at this point. Its main operation was the service department, and there was no real distinction between employees and employers. Most of the people involved were technicians from various institutes or Capital University, all of whom had regular jobs.
After finishing their normal work, they spent their weekends laboring in the warehouse. Once the work was done, they divided up the subsidies. No one dared to resign from their secure jobs outright.
Yan Yuan’s main task here was to Chinese-localize software and modify computer systems.
That meant taking imported microcomputers with entirely English-language interfaces, rewriting their operating systems, creating Chinese input methods and printer drivers, and developing early localization programs before delivering them to government offices and factories.
This week, Yan Yuan had come here after finishing his classes and ridden his bicycle back to the dormitory after midnight. He had worked from early morning until late at night and finally completed a full software-localization program.
The payment was quite substantial, too.
It was a small application program for a factory on the outskirts of the capital. The complete contract was worth one thousand yuan.
The only costs were the software, printer paper, and Yan Yuan’s labor. The institute could make a net profit of around nine hundred yuan. Since Yan Yuan had handled the entire job himself, he could receive more than six hundred yuan.
That was enough to buy Linlin two washing machines.
Yan Yuan had come today to collect the payment.
Chen Chun paused before remembering that the project Yan Yuan had handled had already been completed and paid for.
Even a small software project normally took one person ten days or more. Yan Yuan had finished it in only a week.
Chen Chun called over the accountant and had 673 yuan counted out for Yan Yuan.
Yan Yuan casually handed it to Linlin.
Linlin casually tucked it into her purse.
Chen Chun and the accountant both froze.
Linlin was exceptionally beautiful, and with her elegant clothes, she looked like a pampered heiress.
Chen Chun was Yan Yuan’s teacher, and Yan Yuan had never felt that there was anything shameful about his background—nor had he hidden it from anyone.
As a result, most people here knew that Yan Yuan’s family was not well-off.
