[“No need, I’ll do it.”]

Chen Zemian stepped into the shooting range and unconsciously held his breath as he looked at the guns on display.

There were a lot of firearms in the display cabinets—not just civilian guns, but also military rifles.

Barrett M82, A.W.P sniper rifle, PMM modern sniper rifle, Finnish T3 sniper rifle, CZ P09 pistol, CZ 75 pistol, DT11 shotgun, Glock 17, Beretta 92, P226, 7.62mm sniper rifles, HK416 automatic rifles, MP5 submachine guns, Uzi submachine guns, AUG assault rifles, and even domestic models like the Type 95 and Type 92.

Most were for display only. The heavy sniper rifles and some of the rifles and submachine guns were not available for customer use.

The soft, bright lights of the display cast a cold, unspoken beauty across the gunmetal surfaces.

So cool.

This was just the display case for demonstration—he couldn’t imagine how awe-inspiring Lu Zhuonian’s private gun museum must be.

Chen Zemian’s eyes were overwhelmed. He had a hard time choosing and nearly wanted to lean over the display case just to get a closer look.

“Can I really pick any of them?” he turned to Lu Zhuonian, eyes sparkling. “The shooting ranges I’ve been to only let you use civilian firearms. You need special clearance for military rifles.”

Lu Zhuonian didn’t want to answer such a boring question, so he glanced at a staff member.

The staff member immediately replied, “They’re all cleared for use, Mr. Chen. You can pick whichever you’d like. Here, I’ll unlock the display for you.”

Chen Zemian almost choked: “You can open the display case?!”

“Of course, Mr. Chen. The guns are unloaded. You can handle them freely for inspection.”

The gun vault used a two-person, two-key protocol. The showroom was the same. Two staff members stepped forward, each taking out a key to unlock the case.

One of the staff, good at reading people, first took out the gun Chen Zemian had looked at the most.

Chen Zemian accepted the T3 sniper rifle, gave Lu Zhuonian a quick glance to express his thanks, but his focus remained on the gun.

Lu Zhuonian’s gaze fell on the perfectly polished barrel. “The Tikka T3 is lightweight and sturdy, easy to carry, and famous for its precision. You’ve got good taste.”

Chen Zemian said, “What I like most is how the designer focused on user experience. It offers multiple caliber options based on mission needs, and the handling is really smooth.”

Lu Zhuonian was a gun enthusiast. Some people tried to curry favor with him by pretending to be into firearms too.

But when it came to specialized topics like this, it was easy to tell the genuine from the pretenders after just a few words.

Chen Zhe was clearly an expert.

Lu Zhuonian could already tell he really knew his stuff from how he kept checking out the Tikka T3. And once he started speaking, he listed the rifle’s advantages with impressive accuracy.

Not like those who barely knew anything, always name-dropping the most famous models—Barrett, AWP, PMM, UZI, 98K, Desert Eagle, revolvers—while not even recognizing a Beretta 92F.

Lu Zhuonian’s tone softened slightly. “Chen Zhe.”

Chen Zemian still wasn’t used to his new name, and didn’t realize he was being addressed. He continued admiring the Tikka T3, caressing it like a prized treasure.

Lu Zhuonian found it a little amusing.

It was the first time someone had ignored him to his face—even after being called by name.

He paused, then repeated, “Chen Zhe.”

This time Chen Zemian reacted, quickly looking up with sparkling eyes. “Yes, Young Master Lu? Do you need something?”

Lu Zhuonian didn’t need anything in particular. He just wanted to ask which type of gun Chen Zemian wanted to try first. “The rifle and handgun areas are separated. What do you want to start with?”

Chen Zemian thought for a moment, then chose not to ditch his friends. “Handguns. Young Master Xiao and the others are at Range 2—I’ll go find them first.”

After all, it was thanks to Xiao Kesong that he had this opportunity. The shooting range might be open to the public, but without connections, he wouldn’t have had such close access to the showcase firearms.

Chen Zemian reluctantly returned the T3 to its stand, gently stroking the high-end walnut stock with a sigh. “So beautiful.”

Lu Zhuonian was unusually generous. “I’ll bring you back later.”

Chen Zemian started to understand why people wanted to stick with Lu Zhuonian.

He had so much, and he was generous with it.

Even just crumbs from between his fingers were enough to make others flock to him.

The two of them left the exhibition area together. Chen Zemian went to find Xiao Kesong, while Lu Zhuonian went off to do who-knows-what.

When Chen Zemian arrived, Xiao Kesong was at the range with ear protection and goggles on, shooting. A few of the other rich kids were either target shooting or chatting and drinking water in the lounge area.

They’d all come to the range together, and everyone had seen Chen Zhe leave with Lu Zhuonian. So now, seeing him return alone, someone asked, “Chen Zhe, where’s Young Master Lu?”

Chen Zemian shook his head. “No idea. He’ll probably come by later.”

Liu Yuebo gave a mocking laugh and glanced at Chen Zhe. “Nice move. All that scheming paid off, huh? Finally caught Young Master Lu’s eye. Got any tips for the rest of us? What’d you do—seduce him with that pretty face?”

Chen Zemian’s expression didn’t change. “You’re joking, Young Master Liu.”

Liu Yuebo came from an elite background and looked down on people from humble origins like Chen Zhe—especially ones who knew how to suck up and climb the ladder.

Sprawled on a couch, he sneered, “You really went a different route. Why didn’t I think of using a shared hobby like shooting to get in with Lu Zhuonian?”

“Probably because you’re too noble to lower yourself like that,” Chen Zemian replied with an innocent smile. “Or maybe… you’re just too dumb to think of it?”

The others couldn’t help but laugh.

That laughter stung Liu Yuebo’s ears. His face darkened, and he cursed. “You’re a pro at being a dog, huh? I could never compete with you. Cozying up to both Young Master Lu and Young Master Xiao like some groveling lackey. Impressive.”

The insult crossed a line—it was a blatant personal attack. Chen Zemian’s mood instantly soured, especially thinking of what happened in the original novel.

Seeing this, He Yinan adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and stepped in. “Yuebo, watch your words.”

Liu Yuebo looked like he wanted to say more, but He Yinan tugged on his sleeve and shot a look at Xue Duo.

“Chen Zhe, could you grab us some coffee?” Xue Duo tossed his smart watch toward him. “My treat.”

These errands were usually beneath someone like Chen Zemian, but back in the original story, Chen Zhe had done them often. Xue Duo was clearly trying to defuse the tension and keep him away from Liu Yuebo.

But Chen Zemian wasn’t used to these kinds of errands and didn’t immediately understand what the sudden toss meant, so he didn’t reach out to catch it.

The bracelet grazed his shoulder and hit the ground with a *thud*.

For a second, everything went silent.

Before Xue Duo could say anything, Liu Yuebo suddenly jumped up and pointed at Chen Zemian, spitting out another vicious insult.

Chen Zemian didn’t respond. He just bent down, picked up the bracelet, and went to buy two dozen iced Americanos.

When he returned with eight cups of coffee, the atmosphere had returned to normal. Everyone was chatting or scrolling on their phones—no one was paying him any special attention.

Only Liu Yuebo shot him a sideways glance and let out an extremely arrogant snort.

Xue Duo, soft-hearted by nature and generally a good guy, saw Chen Zhe carrying eight cups of coffee alone and got up to help him.

Chen Zemian said, “No need, I’ve got it.”

Seeing that Chen Zemian’s expression was perfectly calm, Xue Duo even joked, “Why’d you get all iced Americanos? Trying to kill us with bitterness?”

“Of course not,” Chen Zemian smiled, coaxing like he was talking to a child. “I’ll get you something else later—iced Americano is just quick.”

Xue Duo hadn’t yet processed what “iced Americano is quick” meant when he saw Chen Zemian weave through the group, heading straight toward Liu Yuebo.

In a calm tone, Chen Zemian said, “Excuse me, let me through. I’m bringing coffee to Young Master Liu first.”

Everyone watching assumed Chen Zhe was backing down and trying to make peace. To avoid awkwardness—and maybe another outburst from Liu Yuebo—they quickly stood aside, making a clear path.

Chen Zemian stopped in front of Liu Yuebo with the tray of iced Americanos.

Liu Yuebo pretended not to see him, head down, fiddling with his phone.

“Young Master Liu,” Chen Zemian called, lifting his arm slightly, “here’s your coffee.”

Liu Yuebo looked up smugly—but before he could say a word, his expression froze in place.

Chen Zemian flipped the tray, and eight cups of iced Americano came pouring down—lids, ice, straws, plastic cups and all—right on top of Liu Yuebo’s head.

Everyone: “!!!”

In the collective gasp of shock, Xue Duo stood there stunned… and then a look of realization crossed his face.

No wonder he said iced Americano was fast.

Turns out… it just comes out of the machine faster.

Chapter 10 请苍天，辨忠奸！Heaven above, distinguish the loyal from the treacherous!

Liu Yuebo was completely unprepared. He only felt a sudden chill as the cold, bitter iced Americano drenched his entire face.

The dark coffee streamed down his hair, soaking his upper clothes, and his pants were damp with pooled liquid — both pathetic and ridiculous.

In his extreme shock, Liu Yuebo froze on the spot, not knowing what to say or do.

Though his family background wasn’t quite on par with Lu Zhuonian’s, he was still the well-known young master of the Liu family in Beijing — when had he ever suffered such humiliation?

He glared at Chen Zemian. “You…”

Before he could finish, Chen Zemian flung the two brown cardboard cup holders with a sharp clatter, landing them right on Liu Yuebo’s head and cutting off his words completely.

It didn’t hurt, but it was utterly baffling.

Not just for Liu Yuebo — everyone was stunned. They all stared, wide-eyed, forgetting even the most basic etiquette, watching the absurd scene unfold before them.

Though the gazes weren’t malicious, to Liu Yuebo, drenched and humiliated, they were worse than the coffee — everyone was laughing at him.

Being openly challenged by someone beneath him in status was no different than being slapped across the face.

His skin tingled with stinging heat as his blood surged. Veins popped along his neck, his chest heaved with rage, and his face flushed purple and red, mixing with the dripping coffee to form a grotesque palette of colors.

He shot to his feet with a violent jerk, jabbing a finger inches from Chen Zemian’s face. “Have you fucking lost your mind? You looking for a beating?!”

“Pointing at people is terribly impolite, Young Master Liu. Besides…” Chen Zemian tilted his head slightly and, in a calm voice that could make Liu Yuebo explode from fury, added, “You can’t beat me.”

That pushed Liu Yuebo to the edge — he practically leapt up, swinging a slap at Chen Zemian. “Like hell I can’t!”

The conflict escalated in an instant, and gasps rippled through the crowd.

He Yinan and Xue Duo both stepped forward, trying to separate them, but they were too far away — Liu Yuebo was too fast. That slap, fueled by fury, was about to land squarely on Chen Zemian’s face. It was too late to dodge.

But Chen Zemian didn’t even try to avoid it.

Instead, he calmly raised an arm, caught Liu Yuebo’s wrist, and with just a light push — somehow — sent the tall, sturdy Liu Yuebo toppling back onto the sofa.

Before Liu Yuebo could even register what had happened, he was already lying in a puddle of coffee.

What just happened?

He missed the slap? Chen Zemian pushed him down? How was that even possible?

It had to be a dream.

Everyone watching felt like reality had cracked.

Liu Yuebo, unwilling to accept defeat, tried to get back up. But as he struggled, Chen Zemian lightly extended a single finger and pressed it against Liu Yuebo’s shoulder.

Instantly, Liu Yuebo was pinned down, as if nailed to the seat — no matter how he twisted, he couldn’t break free.

The scene was downright eerie.

Just one finger — slender, fair, with translucent skin so thin it almost showed blue veins in the sunlight — a single index finger had immobilized someone nearly 1.9 meters tall.

Though his upper body couldn’t move, Liu Yuebo’s determination to pummel Chen Zemian hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

He leaned back and, without hesitation, lifted a leg to kick Chen Zemian in the gut.

They were standing close, and the kick, delivered in a burst of rage, was full of force. If it landed, it could seriously damage internal organs — even rupture them.

If the slap was just venting anger, this kick was meant to injure.

He Yinan reacted quickly, grabbing Chen Zemian’s arm in an attempt to pull him away.

But when he yanked — he didn’t get a grip!

Where did he go?

He Yinan abruptly looked up, pupils shrinking sharply behind his glasses, disbelief flashing through his eyes.

He saw Chen Zemian calm and composed, raising a foot and stepping down hard on Liu Yuebo’s knee, forcefully stomping that earth-shattering kick right back down.

Chen Zemian leaned in slightly and pressed his middle and index fingers to Liu Yuebo’s sternum. Liu Yuebo was suddenly overwhelmed by an indescribable pressure and suffocation. His strength drained instantly — he couldn’t even speak, let alone fight back.

Before he could get up from the couch, he collapsed back into it, clutching his chest and gasping for air, eyes wide with shock as he stared at Chen Zemian.

One stood and one sat — Chen Zemian’s foot still rested on Liu Yuebo’s thigh.

Looking down from above, Chen Zemian’s eyes lowered. Though his expression was mostly neutral, the posture screamed arrogance.

Overbearing. Razor-sharp.

“Told you you couldn’t beat me,” Chen Zemian said calmly, his tone gentle and unhurried. “Want to try again?”

Liu Yuebo: “……”

Easy for him to say — how the hell is he supposed to try again?

Everyone exchanged looks, completely dazed by the whirlwind of reversals, unsure what to do.

He Yinan patted Chen Zemian on the shoulder. “Chen Zhe, let’s talk this out.”

Chen Zemian nodded in agreement. “Yes, we should speak properly.”

He Yinan was kind by nature — one of the rare nice guys in the rich kids’ circle. Back when Chen Zhe was being picked on, He had even stood up for him.

So Chen Zemian gave him some face, lifting his foot off Liu Yuebo and brushing the coffee splattered on his coat, casually saying, “Young Master Liu, a foul mouth is a sickness. It needs treatment.”

Liu Yuebo, still rattled, flinched instinctively when he saw Chen Zemian raise his hand.

“Don’t be scared,” Chen Zemian chuckled lowly. “Today I offered you iced coffee to cool off. Next time I hear you talking trash, I’ll serve you hot water instead.”

Everyone: “……”

Holy shit holy shit holy shit, has Chen Zhe lost his mind?

He never reacted like this to insults before. Is this one of those “breaking the silence with an explosion” moments?

This is terrifying!

Chen Zemian was stunning to look at — smiling like a blooming peony — and that made the contrast between his beauty and his ruthless behavior all the more frightening.

Something about his whole vibe felt off.

Not just a little off — criminally insane levels of off.

As the saying goes: the arrogant fear the crazy. These young masters and misses might be pampered and proud, but they treasured their lives. Who dared mess with a lunatic? If eight cups of hot water came pouring down on someone — even if they skinned Chen Zhe alive afterward, the one getting burned would still be them.

Chen Zemian pulled out two tissues and handed them to Liu Yuebo. “Wipe your face.”

Liu Yuebo took the tissues, his fingers trembling — whether from cold or fear, even he didn’t know.

Chen Zemian smiled warmly. “Say thank you.”

Liu Yuebo was truly scared now. “Th-thank you…”

“Good boy for realizing your mistake,” Chen Zemian said with satisfaction, leaning in and staring at him. “You still gonna badmouth me?”

Liu Yuebo shook his head vigorously.

Chen Zemian smiled.

What a good day — another successful lesson taught with reason. He’d corrected Young Master Liu’s foul language habit, after all.

Chen Zemian turned and walked toward Xue Duo.

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the people on either side of Xue Duo scattered.

Instinctively, Xue Duo took a step back, cursing his cowardly friends inwardly: ‘I didn’t even say anything bad about Chen Zhe, why’s he coming at me?’

Chen Zemian hooked a finger around Xue Duo’s smart watch and gave it a little shake.

A lightbulb went off in Xue Duo’s head, and he instantly confessed, “I shouldn’t have tossed the watch at you like that. It was disrespectful.”

Chen Zemian tilted his head in confusion. “What are you talking about, Young Master Xue? I just wanted to ask what kind of coffee you’d like.”

“I—I don’t want any,” Xue Duo stammered, suddenly pressing his watch close to his chest. “Not thirsty anymore, Chen Zhe. Really. Anyone else want coffee?”

Like hell they would!

Xue Duo’s question vanished into the air—no one dared answer.

Chen Zemian said, “Then I’ll just buy whatever.”

Xue Duo grabbed Chen Zhe’s arm and ushered him to a quieter corner far from the others, like he was trying to calm a ticking time bomb. His tone was as gentle as a spring breeze: “I’ll go buy it. What do you want? I’ll get it.”

Chen Zemian held back a laugh. “Iced Americano.”

“Great, great, iced Americano it is. Fast and cold. Want any snacks?”

Chen Zemian shook his head.

Xue Duo looked like he’d been granted a royal pardon. Clutching his watch, he backed away at once.

Chen Zemian found it all amusing and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

The others, hearing his sudden laughter, became even more convinced something was wrong with him—nobody even dared look in his direction.

The lounge fell into a long, uncomfortable silence.

Chen Zemian became the uncrowned king of that entire area.

—-

As Xiao Kesong came off the field and walked into the lounge, the rich scent of coffee hit his nose.

Chen Zhe sat alone in a far corner, while everyone else was huddled in small groups on the opposite side.

This scene wasn’t unfamiliar—normally, they didn’t mesh with Chen Zhe, and he didn’t feel comfortable sitting with them either.

But today… the awkwardness didn’t seem to be coming from Chen Zhe.

After what felt like forever, Xiao Kesong finally showed up, and the young heirs all turned to look at him. Their eyes held a strange, hard-to-describe complexity.

The atmosphere was tense.

Just then, Xiao Kesong’s phone vibrated. Someone had @ him in the second-gen group chat—

[@Young Master Xiao SOS, can you please do something about your little bro? He’s gone nuts.]

Xiao Kesong typed with one hand:

[You’re the one who’s nuts.]

After sending it, he frowned and looked at the others with obvious displeasure.

‘These people are so annoying. Bullying Chen Zhe behind his back again? And now gossiping about him in the group chat?’

‘Unacceptable.’

As he walked toward Chen Zhe, Xiao Kesong opened the chat and scrolled through the messages.

The group’s name was [Blessings to Share, Troubles to Ghost]. When it was first created, it only had a few close members. Over time, it grew with invite after invite until there were now over 200 members. A few were especially chatty. Xiao Kesong had long muted the notifications and only checked it when someone @ him.

Sure enough, once he clicked in, they were talking about Chen Zhe.

After skimming a few pages of messages, Xiao Kesong had a general idea of what they’d been saying—and found the whole thing completely baffling.

‘Chen Zhe splashed coffee all over Liu Yuebo and even beat him up?’

‘That had to be fake.’

‘If you’re going to make stuff up, at least make it believable—Chen Zhe, of all people, hitting someone? No way.’

In the group chat, someone @Xiao Kesong again:  

[@Young Master Xiao, did Chen Zhe get possessed or something? He’s terrifying. He wasn’t like this before.]

Others were chiming in with snide remarks:  

[He used to be an outsider. Now he’s a favorite under Young Master Lu. Young Master Liu just walked straight into the muzzle—tough luck.]

Xiao Kesong frowned and typed:  

[You guys really have nothing better to do, huh? At least come up with something remotely realistic. Chen Zhe doesn’t even know how to argue, let alone fight.]

Everyone who saw that message in the group fell silent.

What he said wasn’t wrong—Chen Zhe didn’t look like the type who could fight.

But he really could.

Even though his movements weren’t big or showy, just a few of them were enough to pin Liu Yuebo to the sofa and repeatedly overpower him. Liu Yuebo tried to stand up multiple times—and failed every single time.

Was this even a fight anymore?

It felt more like sorcery.

To back it up, someone posted a blurry candid photo in the group.

It was a side shot, a little fuzzy, but you could barely make out Liu Yuebo, his clothes soaked with dark, wet stains. His hair was also damp and stuck together in clumps—he really did look like someone who just got a whole coffee poured over his head.

Another blurry figure in the shot, seen from the back, seemed to be Chen Zhe.

Both of them appeared in the same frame.

Proof enough.

Besides, Liu Yuebo had a fiery temper. If this were all a lie, he would’ve jumped up to deny it long ago.

Xiao Kesong sat down next to Chen Zhe:  

“You dumped coffee on Liu Yuebo?”

Chen Zemian was quietly editing a few newly obtained gun specs. Without even looking up, he replied casually,  

“Mm. Slipped.”

[He slipped.]

Xiao Kesong replied solemnly in the group:

[It wasn’t on purpose. Let’s just let it go.]

After those two messages, the second-gen group chat fell into five full seconds of silence.

Everyone nearby slowly put their phones down and turned to look at Xiao Kesong.

Clearly wondering what kind of mental state he was in when he typed that.

‘Had Chen Zhe put him under some kind of spell?’

‘Please, Young Master Xiao—wake up!’