Saturday and Sunday were days off, so after the military training closing ceremony this afternoon, students with nothing else to do could head straight home.
Before leaving, Liu Muye exchanged social media contacts with Nangong Ye and Shangguan Yurou—but intentionally skipped Han Juyou.
“What’s your problem?”
Sure enough, Han Juyou, who had been holding out her phone waiting to add him, immediately scowled when Liu Muye pocketed his phone after adding the other two.
“Huh?” Liu Muye mimicked Han Juyou’s usual innocent act, putting on a clueless expression. “What’s wrong? Why are you getting mad for no reason?”
Seeing him play dumb, Han Juyou arched an eyebrow, pressed her lips together, and smirked. “Nothing. I just took some embarrassing photos of you during training. Can’t wait to post them on the campus forum.”
Knowing Liu Muye wouldn’t believe her, she even opened her gallery to show him—he didn’t get a clear look, but it was definitely an unflattering shot.
“Damn it!” Liu Muye’s face fell instantly. “Sis—Han Jie, Han Jiejie, come on, don’t mess around. Let’s add each other, and you can delete the photo, okay?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare~” Han Juyou pouted. “You’re Young Master Liu. How could I possibly add you?”
“Hey, hey, don’t walk away!”
Liu Muye immediately chased after her.
After begging and pleading for what felt like forever, Han Juyou finally “reluctantly” pulled out her phone and opened her QR code for him to scan.
Once they were connected, she sent him the photo she’d just shown him.
Liu Muye’s face turned green—it wasn’t an embarrassing photo of him at all, just some ridiculous meme from the internet.
“You tricked me!” Liu Muye pointed at her accusingly.
“Young Master Liu~ If your eyesight’s that bad, how is it my fault?”
Han Juyou’s fox-like eyes, brimming with mischief, flashed him a flirtatious wink before she turned and skipped away, leaving behind only her playful silhouette.
Damn, she really is the villainess in my novel—she played me like a fiddle with just a meme. She’s got skills!
Liu Muye watched her retreating figure, silently impressed.
(Or maybe you’re just an idiot?)
……
After leaving campus, Liu Muye got into the car arranged by his family’s butler and sped off.
Today, his parents in this novel’s world were also home.
To Liu Muye’s surprise, their names matched his real parents’—his father was Liu Chenghan, and his mother was Zhou Min. The Zhou family, like the Lius, was one of Shangjing City’s elite clans.
Though the names were the same, their appearances and personalities were completely different.
Judging by his features, Liu Chenghan must have been handsome in his youth, but now he’d gained weight and had a boisterous personality, reminiscent of a character from Stephen Chow’s movies—Uncle Da.
“Son~”
Hearing Liu Muye enter, Liu Chenghan stood up and spread his arms wide.
“Dad~”
Liu Muye mirrored the gesture, forcing a cheerful expression as he walked over.
Just as they were about to hug, they brushed past each other—Liu Chenghan instead wrapped his arms around the maid standing beside Liu Muye.
“Son, it’s only been a few days—since when did your pecs get so big? And your hair’s so long, you should get it cut.”
“…Dad, I’m right here.”
Liu Muye facepalmed and tapped his father’s shoulder.
“Oh!” Liu Chenghan released the maid and immediately pulled Liu Muye into a bear hug. “Son~”
“This old man of yours—his eyesight’s getting worse. Without glasses, he can’t tell men from women within a meter, and beyond that, he can’t even distinguish humans from animals,” Zhou Min chimed in as she walked over.
Zhou Min fit the classic image of a wealthy matriarch from a drama. Despite being the same age as Liu Chenghan, her meticulous upkeep made her look much younger.
“Seriously?” Liu Muye glanced at his mother. “Then get him glasses already!”
Zhou Min sighed. “We did. He refuses to wear them.”
“That’s not okay. M—Mom, you’ve gotta keep an eye on him.”
Liu Muye stumbled slightly over the word “Mom.”
His real mother had passed away from cancer when he was in middle school. After nearly a decade without saying the word, having to play the role of someone else’s son and call another woman “Mom” left him feeling disoriented.
Zhou Min lightly smacked Liu Chenghan’s shoulder. “Alright, let him go. He just got back from training—let him rest.”
“Right, right.” Liu Chenghan released Liu Muye and patted his shoulder. “Son, show us what you learned from military training!”
Liu Muye scanned the living room. “Uh… here?”
Liu Chenghan grinned. “Don’t be shy—go on, impress us!”
“Fine, I’ll do some push-ups.”
“Perfect.” Both parents nodded eagerly.
As Liu Muye dropped to the floor, the entire household staff gathered around to cheer him on.
“Young Master, so handsome~”
“So manly!”
Liu Chenghan: “That’s my boy—even humping the floor with such style. Takes after his old man!”
Zhou Min smacked him. “You idiot, he’s doing push-ups!”
“Huh?” Liu Chenghan blinked. “That’s what push-ups look like?!”
Liu Muye stood up, barely winded. “So, Mom, Dad—how’d I do?”
“Amazing! That’s my son!” Liu Chenghan gave a thumbs-up. “Need more allowance? Want me to transfer a few million?”
Liu Muye waved him off. “Nah, Dad, I’m good. It’s not like I spend much at our own family’s school.”
“Alright, just let me know if you need anything.”
“Got it. I’m gonna go rest upstairs.”
The moment the elevator doors closed, Liu Muye finally exhaled.
First time playing the spoiled rich kid—not sure how convincing I was. Pretty sure my ‘floor-humping push-ups’ just made me look like an idiot…
Back in his room, Liu Muye kicked off his slippers and flopped onto the bed, pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly.
Back in his old life, he’d been constantly hustling—working part-time at a convenience store by day, writing novels in his rented apartment by night. Now, as a wealthy heir with nothing but free time, he had no idea what to do with himself.
Opening his feed, he saw Shangguan Yurou had posted a video of herself playing piano.
Nangong Ye and Han Juyou had already liked it, so Liu Muye tapped the heart icon too.
If I had to guess, Nangong Ye’s probably still stuck in a board meeting.
No clue what Han Juyou’s up to, though.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a red notification dot appeared.
Refreshing, he saw Han Juyou’s new post:
[Picking up the pen again]
The photo showed an old, well-worn notebook covered in writing, a newly bought pen resting on top, and a capybara figurine weighing it down.
Staring at the image, Liu Muye’s first thought was:
“She keeps a diary?”
Liu Muye zoomed in on the photo, trying to make out what was written on the notebook, but the image was too blurry—the words were completely illegible. He guessed it was probably Han Juyou who had deliberately taken the picture this way.
…