Bai Xiaorou sat down in pleasant surprise, cautiously stealing glances at her. She then made a move to place the chicken drumstick from her tray onto her plate.
“Thank you…”
Cen Zhineng reacted swiftly and stopped her at once.
“No, thanks. I’m not a germaphobe, but I don’t like eating other people’s food.”
Only then did Bai Xiaorou give up awkwardly.
She had barely taken two bites when Qin Haotian arrived in a grand procession with a group of people, a malicious smile plastered across his face.
“Oh? Bai Xiaorou’s here. You actually still have the mood to sit here and eat.”
He deliberately raised his voice, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
Bai Xiaorou’s hand trembled. She tried her best to remain calm and avoided looking at him.
Being ignored made Qin Haotian lose face, and his anger flared.
He glanced around, his gaze finally landing on a potted plant by the windowsill. Without hesitation, he grabbed a handful of soil from it and dumped it onto Bai Xiaorou’s tray.
“Adding a little seasoning for you. A country bumpkin should eat some dirt.”
His lackeys let out suppressed snickers.
Not only did no one step in to stop him, some even gathered closer to watch the show.
Tears fell onto Bai Xiaorou’s tray as her eyes turned red.
“What exactly do you want?”
Qin Haotian laughed.
“Our Second Young Master Mu said it before—meddling in other people’s business comes with a price.”
“Don’t go too far!”
“This is too far? When you played hero like an idiot, didn’t you think about the consequences?”
Bai Xiaorou fell silent.
Qin Haotian sneered coldly.
“Now you’ve got two choices: either eat that dirt-covered meal obediently, or drop out of school.”
Her lips trembled as she stared at the rice covered in soil.
She couldn’t drop out. She couldn’t give up this hard-earned opportunity. She had to endure these two years—she couldn’t let everything fall apart now.
She looked up at Qin Haotian, her resentful gaze as if trying to engrave the faces of those committing these wrongs into her memory.
“If I eat it, you won’t bother me again?”
Qin Haotian nodded.
“Well? Eat.”
Amid the jeering laughter of the crowd, her trembling hand slowly reached toward the tray.
Cen Zhineng took a deep breath. She looked at the grit floating in her pear soup and the dirt and plant roots mixed into her own food.
What was this? An undeserved disaster?
Her peaceful lunchtime had been ruined by these pieces of trash.
She slammed her hand on the table, stood up, picked up her ruined meal, and without hesitation, flung it straight onto Qin Haotian’s face.
Smack! A dull thud rang out.
Food mixed with mud splattered across his face. Greasy broth dripped down his stunned expression—grains of white rice clung to his left eyelashes, while a chili pepper hung from the right.
He looked utterly miserable and ridiculous.
The entire cafeteria fell silent. Everyone was stunned.
Someone started recording. The campus forum instantly exploded.
Mu Chenchuan’s lapdog had been tamed by the new transfer student!
The headline spread like wildfire through the prestigious academy.
Cen Zhineng calmly wiped the grease from her hands with a tissue. Her icy gaze swept over the dumbfounded Qin Haotian and then the surrounding crowd.
“Do me a favor and tell Mu Chenchuan to keep his dog on a leash. If he dares send garbage in front of me again, washing his face won’t be the only thing happening next time.”
Qin Haotian finally snapped out of it and roared as he tried to charge at her, only to be restrained by those beside him.
“Don’t act rashly. The president is here.”
Suppressing his anger, Qin Haotian turned his head.
At some point, Qi Yanhen had appeared at the entrance of the cafeteria. Dressed impeccably in his uniform, his expression was cold as he surveyed the messy scene.
His gaze swept past Qin Haotian’s oil-smeared face before landing on the straight-backed Cen Zhineng. He walked directly toward her.
Qin Haotian struck first, pointing at Cen Zhineng.
“President Qi, Cen Zhineng has gone too far! This morning in class she even said you’re just a dog raised by her family.”
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Cen Zhineng arched a brow. Oh? Not completely brainless after all—he knew to strike first.
Everyone held their breath, staring at Qi Yanhen’s expression. Would he explode on the spot? Would he expel her from Srilan Academy immediately?
Silently, many broke out in cold sweat for Cen Zhineng.
Bai Xiaorou stood up.
“President Qi, that’s not true! Qin Haotian deliberately targeted me. Classmate Cen was only helping me.”
She anxiously stepped in front of Cen Zhineng and glared at Qin Haotian.
“You can’t twist the truth and falsely accuse her of insulting President Qi.”
Qin Haotian wiped the grease from his face and sneered.
“All the students from Class Three of the Business School heard it with their own ears. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Second Young Master Mu.”
Several students from Class Three nodded.
“It’s true.”
“We heard Cen Zhineng say it ourselves.”
Rao Yuting had rushed to the first-floor cafeteria after hearing gossip, eager to watch the drama unfold.
Seeing the situation, she secretly rejoiced. Qi Yanhen was known for his ruthless methods—those who offended him never ended well. She quickly fanned the flames.
“Everyone did hear it. She was extremely arrogant. She didn’t treat President Qi like family at all.”
Qi Yanhen cast a cold glance at Qin Haotian, then swept his eyes over the surrounding crowd.
“Nothing better to do?”
His expression was unpleasant. The crowd instinctively stepped back half a pace, not daring to make another sound.
Finally, his gaze settled on Cen Zhineng. Suddenly, he reached out and took her hand, not caring about the grease still on it.
“Come with me. Go wash your hands.”
The crowd was dumbfounded. Everyone knew President Qi was notoriously fastidious and disliked being touched.
And yet, he was openly holding Cen Zhineng’s oily hand.
Cen Zhineng was slow to react. She had just called him a dog raised by her family—and he showed no reaction. Not only that, he was publicly taking her away from the center of conflict.
Was he openly protecting her? When had he become so easygoing?
She couldn’t figure it out, but she knew when to quit while she was ahead. There was no need to clash with him—after all, he was her current financial backer.
Without a word, Qi Yanhen pulled her to the nearby sink.
He guided her hand under the motion-sensor faucet.
Warm water flowed over her hands. Firmly, he squeezed some hand soap onto her palm and began rubbing.
Soon, foam covered her hands. His movements were gentle; it was impossible to tell whether he was angry. He even pried apart her fingers, not missing a single gap between them.
Cen Zhineng had spoken recklessly earlier, but now she felt guilty. She was in the wrong and didn’t dare resist.
After a while, she looked up at the mirror and realized she was almost enclosed within Qi Yanhen’s arms. He was much taller; standing before him, she barely reached his shoulders.
He lowered his gaze, focused on washing her fingers. His lashes were distinct, his features refined yet carrying a hint of cold severity.
He was far too close—almost pressed against her back.
His presence enveloped her entirely. Feeling uncomfortable, she shifted forward slightly.
But the sink was in front of her. Her lower abdomen pressed against the marble counter, its cold hardness making her shiver.