Hearing Lan Xue’s words, Jiang Wangyue couldn’t help a soft click of her tongue. Recalled from the front to the Central Star, losing who knew how many chances to earn merit, his mental sea left unsoothed for ages, and now suddenly suspended, she thought that for Yun Miao to only now have a mental-power rampage showed real restraint. At the very least, if all of that had landed on her one after another, she wouldn’t have put up with it for a second.
Lan Xue didn’t tell her about Yun Miao’s application to transfer off the Central Star, instead he smiled and changed the subject. “Female master, shall we go somewhere else, or head home?”
Before she could answer, a soft voice laced with reproach rang out.
“Jiang Wangyue, you’ve really gone too far.”
At that, she turned around with a head full of question marks. A female in a white dress, black hair down to her waist, stood not far off, eyes full of accusation. She was the one who’d just spoken. Behind her stood two silent male beastmen, posted like guards.
Jiang Wangyue looked this little white flower over [1] “white lotus”/”little white flower”, someone who plays pure and innocent on the surface while being calculating underneath jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2723725_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2723725_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); and found a vague impression in her mind, the original host had probably met her, but clearly wasn’t close to her.
So where exactly was this “going too far” coming from?
The girl bit her lower lip lightly, eyes rimmed red, her gaze fixed the whole time on Lan Xue. “Professor Lan is busy with work every day, yet you still punished him into the Disciplinary Center—”
Jiang Wangyue raised a hand to cut her off, all confusion. “Wait, wait, wait, who are you?”
The girl choked, a flash of jealous resentment shooting through her eyes, fingers clenching her skirt. “I’m Professor Lan’s student. Lin Chuchu.”
Oh, so the little white flower’s surname wasn’t White (Bai) after all.
Jiang Wangyue nodded. “Do you need something?”
“Professor Lan… he shouldn’t let you bully him like this,” Lin Chuchu said stubbornly.
Jiang Wangyue gave her a strange look. That didn’t sound like standing up for her precious Professor Lan at all. If the original host had been the one standing here, who hadn’t even planned to punish Lan Xue, one line from this girl and she’d have gone home and laid into him.
Eyes downcast at the floor, Lan Xue’s mood didn’t ripple in the slightest, there was only a faint, barely-there mockery at the corner of his mouth. Here we go again. This sort of thing had happened before, someone not the least bit close to him insisting on poking at his Female master under the banner of “for his own good.” Then when he showed up to work covered in injuries, a crowd would gather around him, seemingly concerned, really just there for the show.
The little white flower didn’t get the reaction she’d hoped for, a Jiang Wangyue who’d hear her out and fly into a public rage. A flicker of doubt rose in her. Where had it gone wrong?
Perfectly composed, Jiang Wangyue regarded this green-tea-flavored little white flower [2] “green tea”, internet slang for someone, usually a girl, who acts sweet and harmless as a cover for manipulating people behind the scenes jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2723725_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2723725_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); and asked with a smile, “Did your parents never teach you not to meddle in other people’s family business?”
“You—!”
“Tone it down, your tea aroma’s wafting all over the place.” [3] a jab built on the “green tea” insult: she’s laying the fake-innocent act on so thick the ‘tea’ is practically steaming jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2723725_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2723725_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });
She finished and pulled Lan Xue onto the aircraft, giving the girl no further opening. The craft lifted off, then sped away, leaving Lin Chuchu only a debonair silhouette.
Left behind, the little white flower stamped her foot in fury. Tinar had said this would make that damned Jiang Wangyue lose her composure in public, she’d even lined up a reporter, and it had all been for nothing! The two male beastmen behind her exchanged a glance, and one asked in a low voice, “Female master, what do we do next?”
“Hmph. To Night Tryst!”
On the smoothly cruising aircraft, Jiang Wangyue was bent over her terminal reading messages, but the probing looks coming now and then from in front made her glance up, a little helpless. “What is it?”
Lan Xue pressed his thin lips together, reached over to set the aircraft on autopilot, then rose, walked to stand before her, and dropped to one knee.
His move startled her, and she hurriedly reached out to pull him up. “There’s no need, no need. If this is about earlier, then let me just tell you straight: that clumsy little trick of hers can’t fool me.” Back on Earth she’d seen more than enough white-lotus, green-tea types, this one was nothing special. She gripped Lan Xue’s wrist tightly, afraid he’d kneel again, and patted his shoulder with obvious reassurance.
A tentative kneel had earned a completely different result than before. Lan Xue bent slightly at the waist, his eyes bright.
They say once bitten by a snake, you fear a coiled rope for ten years [4] once burned, twice shy, fitting, given the snake in question jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2723725_1_4').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2723725_1_4', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, and Jiang Wangyue thought the saying really was apt. When she spotted Feng Yan in the villa’s living room, her heart gave a violent jump and her neck began to ache faintly.
Feng Yan lounged carelessly on the sofa, the deep-purple silk shirt setting off his cool, fair skin. Good-looking, truly, only, wasn’t that collar cut a little too low? She could practically see his abs! Not very mindful of his husbandly virtue, hey.
She withdrew her gaze, meaning to skip right past him and go upstairs. But to her surprise, Feng Yan spoke first, though the moment he opened his mouth it was all snide. “And here I thought you’d run off and eloped with the Female master first thing this morning, Lan Xue.”
Eloped? Jiang Wangyue stumbled, staring at him in shock. Her, with her C-grade mental power, eloping, Lan Xue would have to be seriously out of his mind. Walking behind her, Lan Xue shot Feng Yan a warning glance. Feng Yan didn’t care in the least, he even let out a low laugh. “Just a joke, don’t mind it. Since it wasn’t an elopement, where did you two go?”
“To do a mental-power test,” she said offhandedly.
At her words, a sudden depth flashed through Feng Yan’s slit pupils. “Oh? And how were the results?”
“Take a guess.”
The living room went quiet for a moment. Feng Yan stood unhurriedly, straightened his cuffs, and only then drawled, “Doesn’t look like good news.”
She shrugged, all regret. “What a pity. You guessed right.”
Feng Yan turned his gaze to Lan Xue, blatant mockery and malice in it. “Who’d have thought, even the great Professor Lan has a day where his judgment fails him.” A C-grade could never soothe an SS-grade, much less comb out an SS-grade’s mental sea. Feng Yan felt he’d been out of his mind last night to believe Lan Xue’s nonsense. Better to spend the time checking the R&D results for the new suppressant, maybe there was still hope for him yet.
Lan Xue glanced lightly at him, then withdrew his gaze, unbothered. He did need a collaborator, but it didn’t have to be Feng Yan. Over this snake, he leaned more toward Ji Li. It was just, that guy… He stood there thinking a long while, and when he looked up again, he found he was the only one left in the living room.
After Feng Yan left, Jiang Wangyue had gone back to her bedroom, there was something she needed to confirm. Opening her terminal, she tried sending an email to the Central Military Academy. She had no idea whether, after this past year, the original host’s enrollment was still on the books.
Give it a shot. What if, by some freak chance, it worked out?
References[+]