Please, I'm Trying to Study, Your Highness! - chapter 23

Six o’clock in the morning.

I wake up on time.

The sky outside the window is just beginning to lighten, and there are few pedestrians on the street.

A few early sparrows chirp noisily atop the utility poles.

I get out of bed and complete my washing and dressing in a steady rhythm.

The milk on the table is already gone, and only half a slice of bread remains.

I stuff the last bit of food into my mouth, sling my backpack-which is much emptier than usual-over my shoulder, and step out of this rented room.

I need money.

Three years ago, in order to escape the predetermined life script of that novel, I nearly spent all my savings.

Changing my file information.

Erasing every trace that could be tracked online.

And then there was that hefty “school selection fee” for Nanhua No.1 High School…

My current savings are only enough for tuition and rent; every other basic living expense pushes my finances to the edge of a cliff.

Working part-time has become the only way to maintain this “peace.”

The bus on a weekend morning glides smoothly down the street.

I grip the handrail, eyes lowered, watching the familiar scenery flash by in reverse.

White noise plays in my headphones, adjusting my brain to its lowest power standby mode.

Starlight Cafe.

Nestled at the corner of a commercial street with a touch of bourgeois flair.

It’s close to both the wealthy residential district and the city center.

The building is a three-story structure, half-covered in climbing ivy.

Huge floor-to-ceiling windows and a retro wrought-iron sign make it stand out among the modern shops nearby.

You can tell at a glance it’s outrageously expensive.

That’s why the hourly wage here is twice that of an ordinary fast-food joint.

Pushing open the back door, the air is thick with the roasted aroma of coffee beans and the sweet scent of freshly baked bread.

It’s now eight-thirty in the morning, half an hour before official opening.

I walk through the hall with practiced ease, heading for the staff-only stairway.

There are already a few people in the locker room at the end of the corridor.

“Did you hear? Linjiang Girls’ School is hosting another arts performance. There’ll be beauties everywhere!”

“Hey, isn’t our store’s treasure from Linjiang? Qiao Nian, that little girl, tsk tsk…”

A few male colleagues are leaning against the balcony railing in the locker room, smoking and chatting crudely.

Their hair is dyed in different colors and grown long.

A true Shamate renaissance.

“You know, that chick who came in last night wearing yoga pants, her ass was so damn round. The way she walked, swaying side to side, made me hard on the spot.”

Yellow Hair takes a drag, blowing out smoke rings mixed with a lewd laugh.

“I saw her. She ordered a hot latte. That milk foam-wonder if it’s as white as those two big bombs on her chest.” Purple Hair snickers as well.

Their gazes all turn toward me as the door opens.

Yellow Hair lifts his chin at me in greeting: “Yo, Xiao Huihui, you’re early today.”

“Morning.”

I walk past them.

Change into the work uniform hanging in the locker.

A white shirt paired with a brown apron, a star-shaped name badge pinned to my chest.

I tidy my collar, making sure every detail meets the requirements.

Leaving the locker room, I head to the bar in the main hall.

A petite figure in the same uniform is on tiptoe, carefully placing a tray of freshly baked muffins into the glass display case.

Those male colleagues, having finished their cigarettes, come downstairs and push open the staff passage door. Their eyes immediately stick to the girl.

“Damn, Qiao Nian’s figure is unreal. That waist-I could wrap my whole hand around it.”

“Our store’s treasure is still the best. So pure and fresh, she’d drown you in bed for sure.”

The Shamate crew openly size her up and chat.

The girl named Qiao Nian arranges the last tray of muffins, her delicate features coming into view as she turns around.

She has a face that evokes pity-a classic pure beauty.

Her lips are pink, her moist eyes large and round, like a clean little deer in the forest.

Yet the corners of her eyes sometimes reveal a natural hint of allure.
This kind of beauty carries a paradoxical and wondrous quality, perfectly in line with the pure-desire style that was once popular in a previous life.

The girl clearly heard their remarks, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Brother Guang, please don’t say things like that. I really don’t like it.”

Her tone, like her appearance, was soft and sweet as cotton candy.

Qiao Nian didn’t choose to avoid the situation, but instead looked directly at Yellow Hair to express her displeasure.

“If you keep this up, I’ll tell the manager.”

Yellow Hair immediately gave an awkward laugh, no longer daring to flirt. “Hey, just joking, don’t take it seriously.”

Qiao Nian said nothing more, turning her head to look at me.

“Brother Huihui, good morning!”

The corners of my mouth twitched slightly.

That nickname…

I’d mentioned it before, but the girl seemed used to calling me that, and besides, she added ‘Brother’ after everyone’s name.

Very polite.

Isn’t that a bit much?

Over time, I just let her be.

“Mm, morning.”

I nodded at the girl in response.

“Brother Huihui, did you hear? The manager said we might launch that new autumn special this afternoon.”

Qiao Nian’s watery eyes curved into two crescent moons, her voice soft and fluffy, full of girlish anticipation.

“It’s called ‘Golden Osmanthus Latte.’ I heard it’s super delicious.”

I replied with a simple “Mm,” and walked behind the bar to start preparing for today’s work.

Qiao Nian didn’t notice my perfunctory response, or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

She followed me to the bar to help out.

Her delicate, fair wrist peeked out from her uniform sleeve, slender and soft.

Around her wrist was a pink string, with a tiny rabbit pendant hanging from it.

“Brother Huihui, look at my new pendant. Isn’t it cute?”

As she arranged the clean glasses and porcelain cups on the drying rack in a fixed order, she raised her wrist, her eyes sparkling.

“I saw it at that little shop on the street corner last week and instantly fell in love with it.”

“It is cute.”

“Hehe~”

Receiving my affirmation, she smiled happily, her eyelashes gently fluttering with each blink.

While I was refilling the coffee grinder with beans, the girl’s voice sounded again.

“Eh? Brother Huihui… um, which bottle is the new raspberry-flavored syrup in? I looked for ages and couldn’t find it.”

I didn’t say anything, just turned and precisely picked out one bottle from the row of nearly identical ones, placing it in front of her.

“Ah… so it’s here!”

Qiao Nian looked at the bottle labeled ‘Raspberry,’ her expression suddenly enlightened, a faint blush once again appearing on her slightly baby-faced cheeks.

“Thank you, Brother Huihui. I can never remember these things.”

“Qiao Nian, come here. I’ll teach you how to use the new coffee machine.” The supervisor’s voice called from the other end of the bar.

“Okay, coming!”

She responded and jogged over.

Her ponytail bounced cheerfully behind her with each step.

Her figure beneath the uniform was somewhere between a young girl and a mature woman.

She possessed both youthful vitality and a hint of fullness.

Innocence and charm perfectly combined.

“How does it feel chatting with a beauty? Doesn’t it just brighten your mood?”

A male colleague leaned over and teased in a low voice.

“Qiao Nian is the star of our shop. Every weekend, countless customers come just for her. Too bad… she’s a School Belle, out of everyone’s reach.”

“Exactly. I heard all the girls at Linjiang Girls’ School have their noses in the air, especially someone like Qiao Nian, a School Belle-she’d never look at ordinary guys like us.”

Other colleagues chimed in.

“Tch, women are all the same. Give them a little sweetness and a few compliments, and aren’t they just…”

I checked the coffee machine’s pressure, ignoring the rest of their conversation.

In my eyes, the world was reduced to work and the countdown for the choice regarding the Thought Thief.

There were just over thirty hours left.

Xia Shiyu, or Shen Ruanruan?

This question had become a background process, quietly consuming my limited mental resources.