Chapter 1220: Borrowing Money From Li Juan

Chapter 1220: Borrowing Money From Li Juan

The officer looked up from his notepad, his tone clipped but resolute. “Mr. Chen, even if you hadn’t said anything, we would’ve pursued this matter to the end. We’re heading to the university now.”

With that, he gestured to the two officers beside him, and all three climbed into the police vehicle, sirens off but tension thick in the air, heading straight for Imperial Capital University.

Inside the dormitories of the prestigious university—an architectural fusion of Ming Dynasty opulence and brutalist practicality—Tang Xue had been holed up for five days straight. She hadn’t stepped out of the dorm once, not even for a coffee run or bubble tea. When Li Juan asked her why she’d skipped class again, Tang Xue muttered something about not feeling well.

But Li Juan wasn’t convinced. She’d been roommates with Tang Xue long enough to know that the girl didn’t look the least bit sick. Her complexion was smooth, her makeup subtle but flawless, and her posture impeccable—hardly the image of someone convalescing in bed.

“Tang Xue, maybe it’s time you went back to class tomorrow,” Li Juan suggested, her voice laced with concern. “You’ve missed so much already—what about your graduation?”

Something about Tang Xue’s behavior had been off lately. It wasn’t just the sudden reclusiveness or the five-day self-imposed quarantine. Not long ago, she’d been the star of their social circle, constantly flaunting her latest “side hustle”—selling imported goods, claiming she was raking in thousands. She’d basked in the envy and admiration of their classmates, who begged her to share her money-making secrets. Tang Xue had seemed to be on the brink of minor campus celebrity status.

And then—silence. No more product photos, no more money talk, no more exaggerated tales of profitable ventures. Just quiet.

Li Juan didn’t believe for a second that Tang Xue had suddenly chosen a life of humility. Something was definitely wrong. But instead of taking her concern as the genuine worry of a friend, Tang Xue gave her a chilly look, as though Li Juan’s concern stemmed from envy rather than care.

Tang Xue had always thought of Li Juan as a bit provincial—after all, she wasn’t a city girl. In Tang Xue’s mind, Li Juan was simply too rustic, too earnest, too limited to understand what it meant to rise above your station. So when Li Juan pushed her again to return to class, Tang Xue dismissed it as yet another attempt to pull her down.

But the truth was, Tang Xue was desperate. The loan sharks were calling, the goods she’d imported had been seized at the port, and her carefully built house of cards had crumbled overnight. She had no money. Not even enough to buy a bus ticket home. Hiding out in her dorm wasn’t a solution anymore.

So when Li Juan came to check on her again, Tang Xue’s eyes lit up—not with gratitude, but with calculation. If there was one thing she knew about Li Juan, it was that the girl was frugal, disciplined, and always had a little cash stashed away. Tang Xue decided to play the sympathy card.

“Li Juan,” she said, her voice dropping into a trembling softness, “I’ve really been feeling unwell. I haven’t told anyone, but something happened at home… My dad—he was in a car accident. I need to go back, but I spent all my money on inventory. I don’t even have enough for a ticket.”

Li Juan blinked, taken aback. “Your dad was in an accident? You didn’t mention anything about that before.”

Tang Xue averted her eyes, feigning sorrow. “I didn’t want to worry anyone. But now it’s serious. I need to go help my mom… Li Juan, please. Could you lend me some money? I swear I’ll pay you back. I’ve been thinking about this for days and you’re the only person I can turn to.”

For a moment, Li Juan hesitated. Tang Xue hadn’t spoken to her properly in weeks. She’d grown distant, aloof, and—if Li Juan was honest with herself—a bit dismissive. It stung.

Still, they’d been close once, best friends back in high school. During one particularly rough term, when Li Juan’s family couldn’t afford both tuition and living expenses, it had been Tang Xue who loaned her money for meals.

That memory stirred something in her, and she asked softly, “How much do you need?”

“Not much, really,” Tang Xue said quickly. “Just thirty yuan. That’s all. I’ll return it as soon as I’m back.”

Thirty yuan? Li Juan’s expression faltered. “That much? Xue, are you sure? Even with a return ticket and a few gifts for your family, it shouldn’t cost that much. You know how hard I save. Every cent I have, I earned pinching from my own needs.”

Tang Xue’s face darkened. “Why would you think I’m lying to you? You really think I’d scam you over thirty yuan? We’ve known each other for years. I told you my dad’s been in an accident! I need to go home! I’m not trying to cheat you. Or did you forget? Back in high school, when you didn’t have a cent to eat, I was the one who helped you.”

Her words cut deep. Guilt prickled at Li Juan’s conscience. She remembered those days vividly—how she’d wept quietly in the dormitory, stomach growling, too proud to ask anyone for help until Tang Xue had noticed and handed her lunch money without a second thought.

They had been close. And maybe—just maybe—there was still something left of that bond.

Sighing, Li Juan relented. “Fine. I’ll lend it to you. Wait here. I’ll get it from my drawer.”

As she turned to fetch the money, Tang Xue broke into a wide smile. “I knew it. I knew you were my best friend.”

But from the other end of the room, a sharp sound broke the moment—a pen being dropped onto a desk with a distinct “snap.”

Zhao Ling, who had been silent all this while, finally looked up from her notes. Her gaze was cool, skeptical. “Li Juan,” she said flatly, “I wouldn’t lend her a cent if I were you. You’re not getting that money back.”

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