“Hmm? What’s wrong? Food tastes best when it’s hot.”
Why wasn’t he taking it? Did he not like these dishes?
The original novel couldn’t possibly detail every little thing, like the male lead’s favorite foods. Lin Luxi had picked some popular, well-received dishes. Could he have somehow still managed to choose something he didn’t like?
As doubt flickered through his mind, Lin Luxi suddenly felt that same sensation of being watched again. His expression remained unchanged, but his gaze grew wary as he scanned the area. Yet again, he found nothing.
He looked like a rabbit, ears perked up, sensing something while foraging for food.
Yue Xinghe’s eyelids lifted. His emotions stirred, and strands of his mental energy involuntarily extended, observing every subtle expression on the young man’s face up close, unchecked.
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
The thought surfaced unbidden. In the next moment, a tendril of mental energy, bold yet oddly cautious, hovered near Lin Luxi’s lashes. Its pointed tip curled slowly, drawing closer to the pale gray iris, as if trying to peer into the depths of his heart through his eyes.
“Mm.”
Lin Luxi blinked hard.
Yue Xinghe kept his composure. “What’s wrong?”
“Feels like something got in my eye.”
With his hands occupied, Lin Luxi blinked rapidly, his eyes soon reddening and glistening with moisture. His large eyes shimmered.
Before him, the invisible tendril of mental energy playfully brushed against his thick, soft lashes, then seemed drawn to the pale gray of his iris. Its tip curled mischievously, inching closer as if eager to make contact.
Yue Xinghe’s jaw tightened. The unruly mental energy was like a husky that had been cooped up for a week and was finally let out. If not for Yue Xinghe pulling back on the reins, it would have bolted, running wild and causing havoc.
“Mm, Xinghe, can you check for me? Did one of my eyelashes fall in?”
The delicate, palm-sized face suddenly leaned in. Yue Xinghe’s breath caught. The mental tendril brushed against skin as smooth as egg white and, for some reason, suddenly softened.
Like a rabid dog in the throes of madness suddenly going still, it quieted down and lay docile.
The chaotic, screeching noise in his mind fell into a rare silence.
Yue Xinghe froze for half a second. Seizing the moment, he withdrew the unusually compliant mental energy, which had calmed as if sedated. Before retreating, the tendril lingered, reluctantly brushing against the other’s right cheek.
Lin Luxi let out a soft exclamation. Why did his right cheek suddenly feel like someone had gently touched it?
He glanced at the distance between them and thought to himself: Probably just my imagination.
A gentle breeze brushed against Lin Luxi’s eyes.
Yue Xinghe leaned in and blew a few times. The little spy’s lashes were indeed long. His pale gray eyes had a slightly deeper hue in the pupils, giving off a comforting, gentle warmth.
Yue Xinghe abruptly straightened up and cleared his throat. “There was an eyelash. I blew it away. Does it still bother you?”
Lin Luxi blinked, his face brightening. “It’s fine now. Thanks!”
Yue Xinghe pressed his lips together, uncharacteristically averting his gaze with a faint trace of guilt.
Lin Luxi lifted the bowl in his hands. “My arms are getting sore. And the food’s going to get cold.”
Just then, his stomach let out a loud, hungry growl.
Lin Luxi: “…”
Yue Xinghe didn’t expect Lin Luxi to worry about him first and forget to eat himself.
He frowned slightly. “How could you not even realize you were hungry?”
The weight in Lin Luxi’s hands lifted. He looked up to find Yue Xinghe had taken the bowl. “Go eat. Don’t starve yourself.”
Lin Luxi paused for two seconds, then broke into a wide smile. “Okay!”
As he turned to leave, he heard a soft “Thank you.”
He glanced back, but the door had already closed.
Shaking his head with a smile, Lin Luxi headed downstairs. Inside the room, Yue Xinghe sat on the sofa, staring at the food on the table as if it were his greatest enemy.
He glanced at the trash bin and sighed.
His mind began replaying the past few days with Lin Luxi. He analyzed every movement, every expression, every detail, scrutinizing every possible intention, over and over again, more than a dozen times.
An hour later, Yue Xinghe picked up his chopsticks, lifted the bowl, and took a bite. He chewed slowly, thirty times, then swallowed with effort.
Clatter!
The bowl and chopsticks clattered onto the table. Yue Xinghe clamped a hand over his mouth, but his body’s physical revulsion was too strong. He rushed to the bathroom and vomited everything he had just eaten.
Yue Xinghe stood before the mirror, splashing water on his face. Droplets traced from his temples down to his chin before falling.
The mirror suddenly cracked. Every fragment reflected a strikingly handsome face, shadowed by an inescapable gloom.
Downstairs, Chris and Qin Hao hadn’t waited for Lin Luxi to start eating. By the time he came down, they were already digging in.
Lin Luxi immediately threw himself into the fray, scrambling for food. “No fair! You guys have no honor!”
Chris snorted. “Serves you right for taking so long. If you’re late to eat, there’s something wrong with you.”
Qin Hao nodded. “I think she’s got a point.”
Quick as lightning, Lin Luxi snagged the last piece of meat. “Why don’t you say that to Yue Xinghe?”
Chris, wise enough to know better, shot back, “Only an idiot would.”
They had underestimated their appetites, and in the end, Lin Luxi had to order another round of takeout before they were finally full.
At another villa dorm, Gao Keyun hurled a delicate porcelain vase to the floor, shattering it. The ground was already littered with debris, she had clearly been at this for a while.
With the advanced medical technology of the interstellar era, Gao Keyun had only spent half an hour in the infirmary before being fully healed.
Chen Jing stood at the side, waiting until the worst of Gao Keyun’s rage had subsided before approaching. “He’s just a worthless nobody. Is he really worth getting this angry over?”
It was unclear whether she was trying to comfort her or stoke the fire. If Lin Luxi was garbage, then what did that make Gao Keyun, who had been completely outmatched by him?
“Shut up! Just shut up!”
Gao Keyun’s fury reignited. With nothing left to break, she started punching the walls, pounding them as if she were trying to tear the place down.
“I was just off my game! There’s no way I would have lost to Lin Luxi otherwise!”
“Of course, I believe you. But the audience doesn’t. The comments about you online right now…” Chen Jing hesitated. “Aren’t great.”
The mention of her reputation finally made Gao Keyun pause. “What are they saying?”
Chen Jing faltered. “Well… you might be better off not knowing.”
Gao Keyun hurled a shard of porcelain at her, slicing a gash across her face. “Tell me!”
“They’re saying you’re all show and no substance, that your actual skills are pathetic.” Chen Jing wiped the blood from her cheek as if it were routine, her expression unchanged. “Some are saying people only praised you because of your background, and that you’ve wasted your talent.”
Gao Keyun’s face twisted, all traces of the “tsundere goddess” gone. She pinned the blame squarely on Lin Luxi, her eyes blazing with fury.
“Actually, there’s definitely something suspicious about Lin Luxi’s sudden increase in strength.”
Gao Keyun’s eyes lit up. “Go on.”
Chen Jing continued, “I’ve heard there are drugs that can temporarily boost one’s abilities.”
Gao Keyun latched onto the idea like a lifeline. “That must be it! Otherwise, how could trash like Lin Luxi possibly beat me?”
Just then, her light-brain rang. Seeing the caller, she steeled herself and answered. “Father.”
“Xiao Yun, you’ve disappointed me.”
Gao Keyun quickly defended herself. “I was set up this time. He played dirty, took some kind of drug to boost his strength, so I—”
Gao Father interrupted, “Whether or not he used underhanded tactics isn’t the point. What matters is that the Gao family’s reputation can’t be tarnished, especially during this critical period. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Father. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. One more thing, how’s your progress with recruiting Yue Xinghe?”
At this, Gao Keyun’s expression faltered. Yue Xinghe was immune to money, power, and beauty, and she still hadn’t found a way to get through to him.
But she couldn’t admit that. If she failed twice in a row, her father would lose confidence in her, and the family’s resources would no longer be directed her way.
“Smooth sailing.”
“Good.”
Without further pleasantries, her father was clearly busy, the call ended.
Chen Jing lowered her head, hiding a smirk.
“Hey, Chen Jing! Are you deaf? Can’t you hear me calling you?”
Chen Jing looked up, her expression shifting instantly. “What is it?”
Gao Keyun shot her a disdainful glance. “So clueless. Without me, someone as stupid as you would definitely be bullied and looked down on. You should be grateful, got it?”
Chen Jing dug her nails into her palm but forced a smile. “I’ve always been grateful.”
“Hmph. That’s more like it. Now, go do something for me.”