Breakfast at the Su family was… quiet.
Not awkward quiet.
Not hostile quiet.
More like everyone is pretending this is normal quiet.
Su Chen ate calmly, posture relaxed, expression neutral.
Inside his head, however—
Wow. This table could fund a startup.
Seven sisters, one fake young master, zero people actually enjoying breakfast.
10/10 atmosphere. Would not recommend.
He noticed Su Hao sitting straight, smiling gently, playing the role of the perfect young master.
Smile's warm, Su Chen judged. Heart's probably cold. Classic.
The sisters barely spared him a glance.
Good, he thought. I dislike unnecessary attention.
As soon as breakfast ended, Su Chen stood up politely.
"I'm heading to school," he said.
No objections. No dramatic concern.
Efficient family, he approved.
School
The school was elite.
Not loud-elite. Quiet-elite. The kind where students competed with grades instead of fists.
Su Chen walked through the gates with his hands in his pockets, blending in easily.
Parallel world confirmed, he thought. Same uniforms. Same stress. Same youth wasted on homework.
The original owner of the body had good grades.
Not top-tier genius.
But solid. Dependable. The kind teachers liked and classmates trusted.
Perfect cover.
He sat at his seat by the window.
And then—
"Good morning, Su Chen."
He turned his head.
Ye Qingyao.
Short hair. Clean uniform. Clear eyes. The kind of girl who looked like she apologized when others bumped into her.
Naive. Innocent. Honest.
And—quietly important.
The Ye family stood on equal footing with the Su family. Old money. Deep roots. The kind of power that didn't need to announce itself.
So the previous owner had good taste, Su Chen thought lightly. And terrifying connections.
"Morning," he replied calmly.
Class started.
Math, physics, economics.
Su Chen listened casually, absorbing everything.
Interesting…
This world's business concepts are about ten years behind.
No wonder large families dominate everything.
During break, he leaned back slightly, eyes unfocused.
Milk tea.
Cheap. High demand. Insanely scalable.
If I don't start with milk tea, he thought seriously, I'd be disrespecting modern civilization.
Problem was—
Money.
He did a quick mental calculation.
Equipment, rent, ingredients, marketing…
Roughly 100,000 yuan.
He sighed internally.
Ah yes. The ancient enemy of all transmigrators—startup capital.
He turned his head slowly and looked at Ye Qingyao.
She was organizing her books carefully, unaware that she had just become a key investor.
Su Chen hesitated for half a second.
Then—
"Hey," he said casually, tone light. "Can I borrow some money?"
Ye Qingyao froze.
Turned.
Blink.
"…How much?" she asked softly.
Su Chen thought for a moment.
"About 100,000 yuan."
Silence.
Okay, he thought. Maybe that was too honest.
She stared at him.
He added, joking lightly, "I'll pay you back. With interest. Probably."
She looked conflicted.
Then—
"Oh," she said, reaching into her bag. "Okay."
She pulled out a bank card and placed it on his desk.
Su Chen froze.
"…Okay?"
She nodded seriously.
"You've never lied to me before," she said. "So you probably won't now."
Su Chen stared at the card.
This world is broken, he concluded. Trust system is too overpowered.
Outwardly, he picked up the card calmly.
"Thanks," he said. "You might've just invested in the future king of milk tea."
Ye Qingyao smiled shyly.
"I don't drink milk tea much," she admitted.
"That's fine," Su Chen replied. "You'll own the shop instead."
Inside his head, he was already planning layouts, suppliers, pricing strategies.
Step one complete.
Capital acquired.
Low-key. Clean.
He leaned back in his chair, expression indifferent as ever.
But inside—
This world, he thought cheerfully,
is going to be delicious.
Su Chen placed the bank card carefully into his wallet, movements calm and composed.
Inside his head—
So this is what it feels like to be funded by an angel investor.
No pitch deck. No PowerPoint. Just trust and a bank card.
Terrifying.
He glanced at Ye Qingyao, who was already back to arranging her notes, completely at ease, as if lending 100,000 yuan was no different from lending a pen.
"You're… not worried?" he asked, half-curious, half-amused.
She tilted her head slightly. "Should I be?"
Wow, Su Chen thought. Pure. Absolutely pure.
"Not at all," he said lightly. "Worst case, I disappear and become a legend."
She frowned instantly. "You wouldn't."
"…You're very confident in me," he muttered.
She nodded seriously. "You helped me with math for two years."
Su Chen smiled faintly.
Ah yes. Academic debt. The strongest bond known to mankind.
Classes resumed. Teachers lectured. Time passed quietly.
Su Chen answered questions when called, not too brilliant, not too dull—perfectly average.
By the time the final bell rang, sunlight filled the classroom.
Students packed their bags, chatting about homework and weekend plans.
Su Chen stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Capital secured. Cover intact. School survived.
A productive day.
He glanced once more at the bustling classroom, expression indifferent as ever.
Tomorrow, he thought cheerfully, the milk tea empire begins.
And with that, he walked out—
just another student,
carrying far too much ambition for one backpack. ☀️📘