Song Mufang hurried along, managing to enter the classroom just a step ahead of Jing Zhao.
Once inside, Song Mufang’s lips curled up slightly. As if to prove something, he turned back and shot a challenging look at Jing Zhao, who had just stepped into the classroom.
See that? I’m faster, I’m better than you.
Having been thoroughly defeated by Jing Zhao in gym class, Song Mufang was eager to prove himself in these trivial matters.
He didn’t notice that after he turned his head, Jing Zhao behind him curled his lips into a faint smile.
After spending an entire class shooting hoops and competing with Jing Zhao in a walking contest, Song Mufang returned to his seat, unable to maintain his smile. Out of Jing Zhao’s sight, he lightly pounded his leg with his left hand to ease the soreness in his legs.
As he was pounding his leg, a small folded piece of paper was pushed onto his desk.
Song Mufang turned his head and looked at Lu Si, who had passed the note, asking with his eyes: What’s up?
Lu Si didn’t speak, just gestured with his eyes toward the note, indicating that Song Mufang should read it.
Song Mufang lowered his head and unfolded the small square of paper, revealing the words written on it.
“You seem very interested in Jing Zhao?”
Song Mufang quickly scribbled a reply: “Do I?”
Lu Si glanced at Song Mufang’s response and nodded, confirming Song Mufang’s question.
[System, what if Lu Si realizes I’m deliberately targeting Jing Zhao?] Song Mufang habitually sought advice from the more experienced 1111 in his mind.
1111 calmly replied: [You’re meant to be the malicious cannon fodder. Isn’t it normal for people to notice you targeting the main character?]
Song Mufang thought about it and couldn’t refute it. Easily convinced by 1111, he calmly wrote a string of words on the note: “You caught me. I do find Jing Zhao a bit annoying, which is why I keep targeting him.”
Receiving Song Mufang’s returned note, Lu Si furrowed his brows slightly.
Before evening self-study.
Song Mufang took out his phone to check the time and realized he had received a text message two hours ago.
But because Song Mufang had his phone on silent and wasn’t in the habit of constantly checking it, he only saw the message now.
The text was from Mother Song. Song Mufang opened it.
Mother: Mumu, your dad and I are back from our trip. We bought you lots of gifts, remember to come home early.
Song Mufang replied with a simple “Okay” and put his phone back in the drawer, feeling a bit anxious.
Recently, the original owner’s parents had gone on a trip to celebrate their wedding anniversary.
Since Song Mufang had arrived, he hadn’t met the original owner’s parents in person, only chatted with them a few times via video call.
Song Mufang was a bit worried: [System, will Song Mufang’s parents notice their son has been replaced by someone else?]
The System’s next words quickly dispelled Song Mufang’s concerns.
[Don’t worry, no one will notice anything amiss. Under the influence of the novel’s plot, everyone will think you’ve been like this all along.]
[That’s good.] Song Mufang let out a long sigh of relief, his expression relaxing.
His biggest fear was that the original owner’s parents would notice something was off, take him to drink talisman water or have a shaman dance over him, or even worse, send him to a lab for experiments. Hearing the System’s explanation, he finally felt at ease.
As soon as the bell for the end of evening self-study rang, the classroom became noisy.
While Lu Si packed his bag, he looked up and asked, “Are you going to wait another five minutes before leaving today?”
Song Mufang nodded, slowly packing his bag.
In the first few minutes after the bell rang, students were eager to go home, and the hallways were packed with people.
Song Mufang wasn’t in a rush to get home, so he always took his time, waiting for the stairwells to clear out a bit before leaving the classroom, making it easier for himself and others.
After about five or six minutes, most of the students heading home had dispersed, and the hallways were empty again. Only then did Song Mufang sling his bag over his shoulder and head downstairs.
At the school gate.
Song Mufang looked around, and when he spotted the familiar car, his eyes lit up. He walked briskly toward the black Maybach parked by the roadside.
The car door opened, and Song Mufang got in, tossing his bag onto the seat beside him. He habitually greeted the driver, Uncle Li: “Good evening, Uncle Li.”
“Good evening, young master.” Uncle Li started the car, glanced back at Song Mufang, and asked, “You seem to be in a good mood today, young master?”
“Yes.” Song Mufang’s eyes curved into a smile.
Before evening self-study, he had earned another life point, bringing his total to four.
Four life points were enough for him to enjoy a carefree half-week!
For at least half a week, he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of life points and meeting an untimely end.
Smiles are contagious. The driver’s mood lightened as well, seeing Song Mufang’s cheerful expression in the rearview mirror.
Song Mufang’s home was nearby, and with the roads clear at night, it didn’t take long for the car to reach home.
He got out of the car with his bag and had just stepped inside when he heard someone call out to him: “Mumu, you’re finally back.”
He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw a woman in a red nightgown on the sofa, shifting from a lying to a sitting position. She tore off the face mask she was wearing and looked at him with delight.
The woman in the red nightgown was Fang Tongru, the mother of his current body.
She was beautiful, with a head of big wavy curls, and she took good care of herself. Although she was already forty, she didn’t look it at all.
Beside her sat a man in black pajamas, wearing black-framed glasses. Although he didn’t smile as broadly as Fang Tongru, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes showed his amusement. This was Song Mufang’s father, Song Jingyuan.
Recognizing their identities, Song Mufang opened his mouth and said, “Mom, Dad, I’m back.”
Mother Song’s smile widened, and she waved him over: “Mumu, come here and let me have a look at you. Your dad insisted on staying out for the full fifteen days, wouldn’t come back a day early, and I haven’t seen my precious son for fifteen days.” She cast a playful glance at Song Jingyuan sitting beside her.
After Song Mufang sat down, Mother Song noticed his slightly thinner cheeks and was heartbroken: “Mumu, your face has gotten thinner. I told your dad to transfer you to a school with a lighter workload, but he wouldn’t listen and insisted on sending you to Yangcheng No. 1 High School. He just wants to torture you. Now you’re studying so late every day, my poor boy, you must be exhausted.”
“What are you talking about? I sent Mufang to No. 1 High School so he could study well and get into a good university,” Father Song retorted.
“Be quiet and let our son speak.”
The original Song Mufang’s parents had a good relationship, as evidenced by Song Mufang’s name.
Recently, they celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary and took fifteen days off to travel.
They had even chosen to travel after Song Mufang started school for fear that he would intrude on their time alone together.
Calling it a quarrel wasn’t accurate; it was more of a playful exchange between a loving couple.
Song Mufang smiled to himself.
Before entering this story, Song Mufang had always envied his younger brother, who went to school with a backpack every day.
Now, being able to attend school like his peers, Song Mufang felt quite content, even though he had to constantly worry about the life points ticking down to zero.
After thinking for a moment, he answered honestly, “It’s not too bad, I don’t feel very tired.”
Mother Song lightly tapped Song Mufang’s head, not believing him: “I heard from Aunt Zhang that you stay up until one or two in the morning doing homework every night. That’s exhausting. Look at your face, you’re losing weight. Mumu, if you’re tired, study less. With me here, your dad won’t dare not to support you.”
Song Mufang weakly raised his hand: “I don’t stay up that late.”
“See? Mufang himself says he’s not tired, and you’re here telling him not to study,” Father Song couldn’t help but interject again.
Mother Song glared at Father Song: “What do you know? Mumu would never admit he’s tired. He’s just saying that to keep me from worrying. If you believe him, you’re really foolish.”
Father Song: “Alright, I’m the foolish one.”
Mother Song continued, “We bought a lot of things on this trip, including clothes for you. They’re already in your wardrobe. You can take a look before you go to bed.”
“Okay, I will.” Song Mufang nodded earnestly.
“And,” Mother Song said, opening a small, exquisite box, “I saw a new watch that looked nice while we were out, so I bought three. Each of us has one. Try it on, dear,” Fang Tongru said, extending her wrist adorned with the watch and waving it in front of Song Mufang.
Song Mufang looked at the watch in the box.
It was a mechanical watch, with a simple and elegant design. The face was a classic white, but the hands had a bit of flair, designed with a hollow center.
Mother Song, being impatient, waited a few seconds and then asked, puzzled, “Don’t you like this watch, dear?”
Song Mufang, worried she might misunderstand, quickly shook his head: “No, I just wanted to take a closer look at the watch.”
Mother Song breathed a sigh of relief: “That’s good. I was just thinking, if you didn’t like it, I’d get a better one and use this watch as a prize in the year-end raffle for your dad’s employees.”
Song Mufang didn’t know much about watches, but he knew this one wasn’t cheap. Hearing Fang Tongru casually assign it a new owner was quite shocking.
“I could never dislike it. I like all the gifts you give me, Mom.”
Mother Song paused, then beamed, ruffling Song Mufang’s soft hair: “Oh my, Mumu, have you been eating too much sugar lately? You’re such a sweet talker!”
Just then, there was a “ding” from the kitchen, signaling the oven had finished.
Mother Song stood up and, as she walked toward the kitchen, remembered something and turned back to Song Mufang: “I baked some cupcakes before you came home. Would you help me taste them?”
Mother Song didn’t work, and when she had free time at home, she enjoyed experimenting with cooking and baking.
Song Mufang naturally wouldn’t refuse such a small request from Mother Song. He nodded: “Sure.”
In a short while, Mother Song returned with a baking tray holding three cupcakes about the size of half a palm.
Song Mufang took a cupcake from her, using a small fork to gently break off a piece and pop it into his mouth.
The cupcake was delicious, with fresh cream on the outside that was sweet but not overly so, and the cake inside was soft and fluffy.
His cheeks puffed out slightly as he continued to eat the cupcake bite by bite.
Originally intending just to taste it, he found he couldn’t stop, and before he knew it, the small cupcake was gone, leaving only a plate with crumbs.
Seeing Song Mufang’s reaction, Mother Song’s smile grew even wider, her son’s response the best affirmation of her baking skills.
As the clock neared ten, Mother Song began to urge, “It’s getting late. Mumu, go upstairs, wash up, and remember to go to bed early. Don’t study too late and tire yourself out, okay?”
Father Song cleared his throat, about to speak, but Mother Song’s death glare stopped him: “Hmm, Song Jingyuan, what do you want to say?”
Father Song remained unfazed: “I’m going to say it anyway.”
Mother Song’s eyebrows rose, and Song Mufang couldn’t help but perk up his ears, waiting for Father Song’s next words.
“Mufang, listen to me, your mom is always right.”
Song Mufang was urged upstairs by both of them, and as he reached the last step, he glanced back.
Downstairs, Fang Tongru was still talking to Song Jingyuan, both of them smiling. As Song Mufang looked over, he even saw Fang Tongru poke Song Jingyuan’s chest with her finger, as if acting coy.