Inside the school building, Lu Xingheng let out a loud sneeze.
He rubbed his nose and felt a sudden chill run down his spine: “I must not have slept well last night. Buddha, Lord of Compassion, and Savior, please protect me from more nightmares—after all, dreams are the opposite of reality.”
Lu Xingheng opened his phone and checked his balance to calm his nerves; he felt much better afterward.
Stepping into the classroom, the first thing he saw were blood-red characters on the blackboard.
[99 Days Until the College Entrance Exam]
Lu Xingheng swallowed hard. It was as if he were looking at a countdown to the Lu family’s bankruptcy; goosebumps broke out all over his body.
In 99 days, it would be the college entrance exam—which also happened to be the original host’s eighteenth birthday. An ominous countdown.
Lu Xingheng shook his head, trying to banish that ominous thought.
He sat down, pulled out his textbook, and flipped through it—only to be completely stunned.
He knew nothing about the difficulty of high school courses in this parallel world, yet just moments ago he’d been talking big.
It was perfectly normal for the original host to fail; just what kind of prodigies were his older brother and sister, who had straight A’s?
They were all biological siblings—was he really the dumbest of the three?
Lu Xingheng consoled himself, telling himself it wasn’t his fault if he couldn’t understand it; his IQ simply set the limit.
“My family is so rich; it’s perfectly reasonable not to love studying. There’s no way I’m going to study.”
After saying that, he closed the book with a clear conscience and pulled out his phone.
Lu Xingheng looked at his contacts; the chat history between the original host and the mastermind behind the scenes was still there.
The mastermind seemed very confident, not the least bit afraid of being found out.
[As long as you get that document, you’ll get everything you want.]
[It’s in Lu Yun’s room, in the second drawer, inside a yellow paper bag.]
[Steal it and hand it over to me, and your wish will come true.]
Lu Xingheng narrowed his eyes; the information the other party provided was far too specific.
So specific it was as if they’d installed surveillance in Lu Yun’s room.
Although Lu Yun had said it was a virtual number and no information could be traced, Lu Xingheng still intended to give it a try.
If he could root out this tail lurking in the shadows, it would be a huge step toward preventing the Lu family’s bankruptcy.
He took a deep breath and began typing rapidly.
【I’ve already got the item.】
【When will I get it?】
【How do I give it to you?】
[You said you’d help me seize the family fortune—that the Lu family would be mine from now on. Does that still stand?]
[Why aren’t you answering? Are you lying to me?]
[If you dare lie to me, you’re asking for trouble. At worst, we’ll both go down together.]
His message went unanswered.
Class began, but Lu Xingheng didn’t even look up, continuing his relentless barrage of messages.
The teacher and classmates seemed to have grown accustomed to this; no one gave him a second glance.
By the end of the first class, the virtual number still showed no response.
“Looks like they’ve caught on to something. They won’t be showing up.” Lu Xingheng sighed. As expected, it wasn’t that simple.
Just as Lu Xingheng was about to put his phone away, the screen lit up.
A message popped up.
“Ah—”
Lu Xingheng was so startled by the sudden, creepy ghost face that he dropped his phone.
With a clatter, the screen shattered into pieces.
The students in the classroom all turned to look at him at once, their eyes filled with disdain.
A boy in a school uniform walked in from outside, bent down to pick up the phone, and looked at the shattered screen with a look of regret: “Looks like it’s broken.”
“Xingheng, it’s one thing to be angry, but don’t throw things around. Breaking your phone is one thing, but hitting a classmate would be much worse.” His tone was just like his dad’s.
“If it’s urgent, you can use my phone for now.” The boy smiled, his expression as warm as spring sunshine.
Lu Xingheng searched his memory and recalled the boy’s name.
Meng Jiao—one of the people the original host hated the most.
Both were rich kids, the same age, and had known each other since childhood.
Meng Jiao was an only child and the sole heir. From a young age, he excelled at everything to an unbelievable degree—always ranking first in the entire school, the perfect campus prince.
In the future, Meng Jiao would become the male lead’s right-hand man. While the Lu family went bankrupt and fell into ruin, with the three siblings facing one misfortune after another, Meng Jiao would rise to even greater heights.
Comparing oneself to others is a sure way to feel miserable.
What’s even more despicable is that the Lu and Meng families were longtime friends. After the Lu family’s downfall, the Mengs not only refused to help but actually kicked them while they were down.
To protect the female lead, Meng Jiao took drastic action against Lu Xingrou. With his sister’s fate so tragic, Meng Jiao is the one to blame.
He’s truly detestable—his smile is so fake it makes you want to rip that mask right off his face.
With the Lu family facing bankruptcy and the Meng family reaping huge profits, Lu Xingheng couldn’t help but suspect the role the other party had played in it all.
Meng Jiao had free access to the Lu residence; he might even have been in Lu Yun’s room. It wouldn’t be surprising if he knew where the documents were kept.
Thinking of this, Lu Xingheng looked at him with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
Lu Xingheng took back his phone. Perhaps it was the original owner’s emotions getting the better of him, but looking at Meng Jiao’s perfect smile made him feel inexplicably irritated.
He wanted to punch him, to shatter that fake smile.
Suppressing the urge, Lu Xingheng took back his phone: “No need. It’s just a lousy phone—I can buy as many as I want.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than an uproar erupted beside him.
“Lu Xingheng, have you no manners? Meng Jiao was kind enough to help you—can’t you even say thank you?”
“You’re always gloomy and don’t like to study; it’s as if the whole world owes you something.”
“Playing on your phone in class, always coming in last—you’re such a good-for-nothing.”
“With a attitude like that, you’re not even worthy of being compared to Meng Jiao.”
Lu Xingheng turned his head and looked at that “support group.”
One by one, their faces flushed red with righteous indignation, as if they were knights defending a holy prince.
He looked back at Meng Jiao.
Meng Jiao was still smiling, saying nothing, as if the scene unfolding before him had nothing to do with him.
Lu Xingheng suddenly laughed.
It had always been like this since childhood: in the eyes of others, the original host’s silence was considered a heinous crime.
Lu Xingheng’s personality had become increasingly repressed and gloomy, which was inextricably linked to Meng Jiao’s subtle suppression. Yet, whenever trouble arose, Meng Jiao always came out looking like the good guy, while the original host was left to take the fall.
Meng Jiao was the perfect school heartthrob; the original host was a fickle, petty villain.
“What are these dogs barking about? Their master hasn’t spoken a word, yet this bunch of eunuchs and maids are all worked up for nothing.”
“Is it a crime that I don’t like studying? My dad’s the richest man in Yuncheng—my family’s money is enough for me to live on for ten lifetimes. If you’re jealous, go ahead and reincarnate.”
“You’ve gotten addicted to being someone’s lackey—might as well just put a dog collar around your neck.”
“Meng Jiao, your dogs are barking wildly all over the place. You’d better rein them in.”
Those classmates turned as red as liver, trembling all over with rage.
A flash of surprise crossed Meng Jiao’s eyes, but he maintained his gentlemanly demeanor: “Xing Heng, we’re all classmates. Don’t get angry—there’s no need to be so harsh.”
His gaze carried a hint of pity, and his voice softened even further: “I know Brother Lu Yun gave a strict order—that you’ll be beaten if you keep failing your exams—but you shouldn’t take your anger out on your classmates.”
He didn’t mention a single word about how that group had provoked him first.
Lu Xingheng raised an eyebrow: “Were you hiding under my bed eavesdropping? You sure know a lot about what goes on between us brothers.”
“All right, all right, my fault. If you don’t mind, I can help you catch up on your studies.” Meng Jiao looked genuinely concerned.
Lu Xingheng scoffed coldly: “I do mind. Mind your own business.”
Meng Jiao remained good-natured as ever, stepping in front of the group of henchmen: “We’re all classmates here. Let’s talk this out. Xingheng is young and doesn’t know any better—don’t take it personally.”
With that single sentence, he’d once again cast himself as a magnanimous saint, while Lu Xingheng was just a young, immature brat.
Lu Xingheng felt a lump in his throat. Meng Jiao’s “I’m so magnanimous, I’ll let the kid off the hook” attitude made it feel like his fists were hitting a pillow—it only made him look like the unreasonable one.
“Lu Xingheng, someone’s here to see you,” a voice called from outside.
Lu Xingheng shoved the person in front of him aside with one swift motion: “A good dog doesn’t block the way.”
Meng Jiao stumbled backward, then turned to look at the unfamiliar face outside the window, his eyes darkening slightly.
“Meng Jiao, are you okay? Did you hit your head?”
“Lu Xingheng went too far—he did it on purpose.”
“He’s just taking advantage of your even temper—I won’t let this slide.”
A flash of impatience crossed Meng Jiao’s eyes, but he soothed her in a gentle tone: “We’ve known each other since we were kids. We’re used to bickering—it’s no big deal.”
Lu Xingheng, who had walked to the doorway, heard this and thought Meng Jiao was a complete nutcase—for over a decade, he’d been at odds with him day in and day out.
Men who put on this facade of perfection are the most phony—behind closed doors, they’re probably total perverts.
Lu Xingheng looked up and saw a stranger’s face. “Are you looking for me?”
“Lu, someone asked me to deliver this love letter to you. Please accept it.”
“Huh?”
Lu Xingheng was caught off guard; before he could even respond, the person had already run off.
“No way—someone actually sent Lu Xingheng a love letter.”
“What kind of taste is that? They must be blind as a bat.”
“It can’t be that Lu Xingheng hired someone to fake it, right? It has to be. Otherwise, how could anyone possibly like him?”
Lu Xingheng rolled his eyes and opened the pink envelope, which carried a faint fragrance.
[To Lu Xingheng:
I like you. After school today, under the wisteria trellis behind the library, I want to tell you in person that I like you. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you.]
Signed: Someone who truly likes you.
Lu Xingheng racked his brain but couldn’t think of a single person who might have written it.
The original host was always lost in his own world, keeping to himself at school with no friends.
“Xingheng, who wrote that love letter?” Meng Jiao stopped him as he was heading back to the classroom.
Lu Xingheng rolled his eyes dramatically: “None of your damn business.”
Meng Jiao sighed, looking helpless: “Fine, fine, I won’t pry. But you need to think this through. The Lu family is powerful and influential; there will always be people with ulterior motives trying to get close to you. Even if it’s just for your older brother’s sake, you have to be careful—”
Lu Xingheng furrowed his brow and simply laid his head on the desk, ignoring him.
Seeing this, Meng Jiao had no choice but to return to his seat, smiling at the concerned glances directed his way.
In his desk drawer, his phone screen lit up.
[Will he come?]
Meng Jiao replied quickly: [Yes, make sure to cover your tracks.]
After deftly deleting the message, Meng Jiao still wore her flawless, unreadable smile.
As dismissal time approached, Lu Xingheng hesitated for a long time but finally decided to head to the library.
He had no intention of accepting anyone’s confession, but since he’d received a love letter, he felt he should at least give a clear rejection to spare the young girl from waiting in vain.
The wisteria was in full bloom, cascading like a waterfall.
Lu Xingheng took in the beautiful scene, took a deep breath, but couldn’t help but furrow his brow.
The air was filled with the scent of wisteria, yet mixed with an indescribable, strange odor.
It felt strangely familiar—as if he’d smelled it somewhere before.
“Lu Xingheng.”
An ordinary yet familiar face—it was the classmate who’d tripped earlier that morning.
Lu Xingheng looked surprised. “It’s you.”
The boy stood on the other side, his expression obscured by the light behind him.
“Lu Xingheng, I like you.”
“I really, really like you. You smell so good.”
“You’ll accept me, right? I’ll love you so much—more than anyone else in the whole world.”
He took step after step closer, his body trembling, the muscles in his cheeks twitching slightly, giving his face a twisted, eerie look.
That strange scent grew closer, and Lu Xingheng suddenly remembered—it was the same scent he’d smelled on the classmate that morning.
It wasn’t foul, but it was fishy and gamey, making him feel uneasy.
Lu Xingheng shuddered, took two steps back, and politely declined: “Thank you for your interest, but I just want to focus on my studies.”
The classmate tilted his head, as if sizing up prey he knew couldn’t escape.
“You’ll come to like me.”
“Be with me, and you’ll have it all.”
“You belong to me.”
“You smell so good—I want you so bad!”
Lu Xingheng grew wary. This guy clearly wasn’t right in the head. Was he planning to force himself on him? With that scrawny build, he wouldn’t even be a match for Lu Xingheng’s one hand.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned in a deep voice.
“I don’t like you. Don’t you understand ‘no’? If you get any closer, I won’t hold back.”
The male classmate stopped in his tracks and jerked his head up, his smile widening bit by bit.
The corners of his mouth stretched toward his ears, growing wider and wider—to a degree that no normal person could possibly achieve.
The next second, he pounced.