Lu Yuzhi poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to Elder Lu, his tone flat and indifferent: “So you see, you can’t even manage your own affairs. Stop worrying about others.”
Lu Zhenshan was momentarily speechless, raising his cane as if to strike.
But looking at Lu Yuzhi’s flawless face, those aloof, cold eyes, he couldn’t bring the cane down no matter what.
He had plenty of sons and grandsons, but this youngest one was the one he doted on most.
Since childhood, he had taken him to the military camp, to the corporation, teaching him hands-on.
The moment he came of age, he handed over full authority, placing the entire Lu Family in his hands.
Among the sons and grandsons below him, who didn’t privately complain about his favoritism?
But the human heart is inherently biased.
Not only was he to be the head of the financial group—even the military power in his hands was meant for this youngest son, if only he were willing to accept it.
Elder Lu sighed helplessly.
On one hand, he was proud of Yuzhi’s abilities; on the other, he couldn’t help lamenting his rebelliousness.
Were all geniuses like this?
Not interested in beauty, not interested in power, yet obsessed with those extreme sports where one brush with death was always a possibility.
As if everything ordinary people in this world fought tooth and nail for wasn’t worth a second glance from him.
“In a few days I’ll go to Shenghua and take another look,” Lu Yuzhi said, rising and walking toward the staircase, his tall figure aloof and cold.
“Shiqian is at least better than the others.”
In early September, Shenghua Private University opened for the semester.
French plane trees shaded the campus, and the lawns were meticulously trimmed.
Shen Jinxin stepped out of the Shen Family’s Rolls-Royce, carrying a limited-edition Hermès bag.
Mu Suihe followed her out of the car, shouldering a simple canvas bag, her long hair loosely tied into a low ponytail with a plain hair tie.
The difference in status between the young heiress and her little follower was obvious at a glance.
Students around them whispered in twos and threes, their eyes following Shen Jinxin’s back.
“That’s Shen Jinxin, this year’s Venus Gold Award winner. Her older sister won it last year too.”
“Some people are just born lucky—beautiful and talented. I saw her arrive with Song Shiqian today, you know, the eldest young master of the Song Family.”
For now, not many people noticed the girl in the white dress trailing behind her, head lowered and eyes demure.
Occasionally someone’s gaze would sweep past her—a fleeting glimpse—but she was quickly drowned out by other topics of conversation.
Shen Jinxin walked ahead, basking in the attention coming from all directions. Glancing back at Mu Suihe, the corner of her mouth curled into a contemptuous smile.
So what if she had talent without a good family background? She was still destined to pave the way for the wealthy like them.
The first class was Advanced Mathematics, in the lecture hall of the comprehensive teaching building.
Song Shiqian was there too.
He was already a junior; he had failed Advanced Mathematics in the Economics department last year and was retaking it.
He lounged lazily in the back row by the window—black T-shirt, dark gray cargo pants, a low-pulled baseball cap hiding most of his face, revealing only a sharp jawline.
The moment Shen Jinxin entered the classroom, she spotted him, her eyes lighting up. She abandoned Mu Suihe and sat down beside him, her voice sweet: “Shiqian, what are you doing here in Advanced Math?”
Song Shiqian pushed up the brim of his cap, his peach-blossom eyes still heavy with sleepiness, his voice languid: “Failed it. Retaking.”
Shen Jinxin opened her textbook, and her head ached at the sight of pages full of formulas and calculus symbols.
“It’s one thing for Economics majors to take Advanced Math, but why is it a required course for us Art students too?”
“Who on earth came up with this rule?”
Mu Suihe sat down alone in the back row, head lowered as she flipped through her textbook.
Though she knew classical art inside and out, these science subjects were as incomprehensible to her as heavenly script.
Thankfully the original owner had excellent grades—she’d been recommended directly into Shenghua in her second year of high school. Otherwise, starting from scratch on her own, math alone would have been enough to drive anyone mad.
The class bell rang. Break time.
Shen Jinxin immediately sidled up to Song Shiqian, tilting her head coquettishly. “Shiqian, help me look at this problem.”
She leaned in close, her long hair brushing his arm, her smile radiant.
Song Shiqian took off his baseball cap, spun it once on his fingertip, picked up a pen, and drew two lines in her textbook. “Didn’t the teacher just go over this one?”
Even as he said it, his pen didn’t stop, working through the solution for her.
Shen Jinxin glanced back at Mu Suihe in the rear row, a flicker of smugness passing through her eyes.
Mu Suihe quietly watched the intimate silhouettes of the two.
A figure suddenly sat down beside her. She turned her head and met a sharply chiseled profile.
Single-lidded eyes, high brow bone, a straight nose bridge—when he looked at people, there was an inherent arrogance and coldness of someone accustomed to power.
Sitting in the cramped connected seats of the lecture hall, he seemed utterly out of place.
Mu Suihe clutched her book tighter. She remembered this face.
That night on the yacht, he had sat in the seat of honor, everyone on board looking up at him.
Hard to imagine there was a man with even more presence than the male lead, Song Shiqian.
She had no idea who he could be.
“And you are?” she asked.
Lu Yuzhi looked at the utterly unfeigned bewilderment in her eyes and, for once, was stunned for a moment.
Was there anyone in Gangjing who didn’t know him? Playing hard to get?
But those eyes before him were completely clean.
He looked away, gazing at the pair huddled together up front. “The Shen Family wants to marry their second daughter into the Song Family, so they would absolutely never send a beauty to Shiqian of their own accord.”
“You’d better rein in those petty subjective notions of yours.”
“The gap in status is right there. Fighting against the legitimate eldest daughter—the methods the financial dynasties use against people are beyond what a green girl like you, fresh out of nowhere and ignorant of how high the sky is, could imagine.”
The words were harsh.
Yet this was the first time, since waking in this new world, that anyone had shown her goodwill in such a cold manner.
It was just that she didn’t want to fall into that long darkness again.
Mu Suihe pressed her lips together and said softly, “Thank you for your kindness. It’s just that some things, outsiders can’t understand.”
Her gaze drifted back to Song Shiqian’s profile up front.
Lu Yuzhi watched her face—those beautiful almond eyes unblinking as they fixed on Song Shiqian’s direction, as if utterly besotted.
He sneered inwardly. Hopelessly stubborn.
Countless people outside wished Lu Jiu Ye would offer them a word or two of guidance, and he had never once opened his mouth.
Yet today, seeing her so naive and unaware, afraid she’d go down the wrong path, he had volunteered a few extra words.
And this was the ungrateful attitude he got in return.
He rose to his feet, one hand slipping into his trouser pocket, casting her one final look from on high.
Forget it.
Her karma had nothing to do with him, Lu Yuzhi.