Chapter 3

“Wanning, maybe you were worrying too much back then? Hahaha.”

I read the message and didn't reply.

Just wait.

The real show was still to come.

Sure enough, in the third week, Song Kehan started borrowing money.

When Zhou Jia ran into me on the rooftop, she brought it up herself.

“Wanning, Song Kehan borrowed two thousand yuan from me.”

“She said her mother was sick and in the hospital, and they needed the money urgently.”

“She looked so worried that I lent it to her.”

“Do you think she'll pay me back?”

I looked at Zhou Jia.

That kind, slightly chubby girl was still trying to find excuses for Song Kehan.

“Zhou Jia, did you see her mother's medical records?”

“Huh?” Zhou Jia stared at me. “Why would I need to see those?”

“Then how do you know what she told you is true?”

I looked her in the eye.

“Two thousand yuan isn't much, but this is how it starts.”

“She'll test your limits.”

“Two thousand today. Five thousand, or ten thousand, tomorrow.”

Zhou Jia's expression shifted.

“It won't get that bad… She isn't that kind of person.”

“What kind of person is she, exactly? How long have you known her?”

I asked.

“You've known her for a month. Can you really say you understand her?”

Zhou Jia had no answer.

I patted her shoulder.

“Never mind. I won't keep going on about it.”

“Just be careful.”

“Remember this: when people want to borrow money, they'll call you their dearest friend. When you ask for it back, suddenly you're the one being unreasonable.”

Then I turned and headed downstairs, leaving Zhou Jia alone on the rooftop with her thoughts.

Another week passed.

Song Kehan borrowed money for the second time.

This time, she wanted five thousand yuan.

She said her younger brother needed tuition.

Zhou Jia hesitated and asked the group chat for advice.

“Song Kehan asked to borrow money again. This time she needs five thousand.”

“She said her family can't get the money together in time to pay her brother's tuition.”

“Should I lend it to her?”

The group chat erupted.

Some people said she should lend it. They were classmates, after all; if you could help, you should.

Others said not to. Lending money ruined friendships.

A few suggested she first get back the two thousand from last time.

I stayed quiet and watched.

In the end, Zhou Jia lent her the money.

But she made one condition: Song Kehan had to write an IOU.

Song Kehan agreed.

Zhou Jia posted a photo of the IOU in the group.

The handwriting was neat, the date was clear, and it promised full repayment within a month.

Zhou Jia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now we can relax, right?”

“She wrote an IOU. She'll definitely pay me back.”

I looked at the photo.

A cold smile crept across my lips.

In my previous life, Song Kehan had written me IOUs, too.

More than one.

And how many had she honored?

Not a single one.

She would cry and say something else had happened at home.

She would get down on her knees and beg for a few more days.

She would do anything to drag things out.

Then, when you finally got fed up and threatened to sue, she'd turn on you.

She'd say you had no loyalty, that you'd watched her suffer without helping.

She'd make herself out to be the victim.

And you, the cruel, greedy one.

I knew that routine all too well.

In mid-October, the school began preparing for its anniversary gala.

Our department had to contribute a performance.

We needed cars to pick up a group of alumni.

Our academic adviser asked in the group chat whether anyone's family had a car they could lend.

I was about to respond when Song Kehan jumped in first.

“Professor, my family has a car—a Mercedes G500. I'd be happy to help.”

The group chat immediately lit up.

“Holy cow, Kehan's family is rich!”

“That's a G500. It costs over a million yuan!”

“Our rich heiress. Let me bask in your glory.”

Zhou Jia sent a message too.

“Kehan, you're so modest. I had no idea your family was that wealthy.”

Song Kehan replied with practiced humility.

“It's nothing special. My family just runs a small business.”

“It's my pleasure to help the department.”

I stared at the chat history.

My stomach turned.

A Mercedes G500.

That was my car.

In my previous life, it was around this time that Song Kehan took my car without permission.

She paraded around campus pretending to be a rich heiress.

Then she drove it to nightclubs to pick up men.

The car came back with several scratches. Repairs cost more than thirty thousand yuan.

She didn't even apologize.

She just smiled and said, “We're best friends. You're really going to make a big deal over a little money?”

I was so angry I nearly hit her.

But she already owed me more than a hundred thousand yuan.

I was afraid she'd do something desperate, so I swallowed my anger.

This time, I wanted to see how she'd play this out.

I sent our academic adviser a private message.

“Professor, I think Song Kehan may be mistaken.”

“The owner of the Mercedes G500 she mentioned isn't her.”

“To avoid any problems, I suggest confirming that with her.”

Our adviser replied quickly.

“Wanning, are you sure? This is serious.”

“I'm sure, Professor.”

“You can ask her to send a photo of the vehicle registration.”

“If she can't provide it, then something is wrong.”

The adviser didn't reply after that.

But ten minutes later, the mood in the group chat had changed.

Our adviser sent a message.