The consequence of eating too many milk candies is that you get very sleepy. Tao Fengche yawned several times while still in the car. When he got home, he barely managed to take a shower, not even having time to dry his hair, before collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

Even though he and Wang Yuan sneaked away for a bit before the birthday banquet officially started, the high-intensity socializing throughout the night drained all of Tao Fengche’s energy. He uncharacteristically slept in, waking up from his dreams around eleven in the morning, just in time to combine breakfast and lunch into one meal.

Next Wednesday was the monthly exam, and this week’s homework load was a bit heavy. But Tao Fengche had completed more than half of it before the Friday evening check with Sui Yuesheng, and finished the rest before heading out for the banquet yesterday.

Usually, the weekend before the monthly exam was Tao Fengche’s busiest time. While reviewing, he also had to catch up on the entire month’s biology lessons starting from the preview. However, thanks to the clever brain his parents gave him, he never crashed despite such extreme operations, and his grades had never fallen out of the top five in his grade.

But this time was different.

After diligently checking his homework for an entire week and strictly prohibiting him from copying the biology answers, Sui Yuesheng had left Tao Fengche to study on his own. Having already caught up with the necessary progress, the remaining subjects were just routine reviews, making him particularly at ease. By evening, he even found himself with some leisure time.

After confirming that he had completed all his study tasks, he finished his dinner and then dove into the shooting range, spending the entire evening there.

If you exclude Old Master Zhu’s birthday banquet and the balded alpha’s attempt to sow discord, it was an exceptionally calm weekend.

Sui Yuesheng didn’t say when he would return before leaving, and Tao Fengche didn’t ask. Previously, when Tao Zhixing went on business trips, he often left for ten days to half a month. So, when Tao Fengche came home from school on Monday evening and didn’t see Sui Yuesheng, although a bit disappointed, he wasn’t surprised.

He arrived home a bit earlier than usual, and the last dish had not yet been served. Tao Fengche handed his backpack to the servant, sat at the dining table waiting for the food, and casually took out his phone to browse social media.

Although the international high school didn’t explicitly ban students from bringing phones to school, watching videos openly was still a bit too much. Wang Yuan had emphasized to him repeatedly during the day that a new game had come out recently, suggesting he watch the review tonight and play together if he liked it.

Social media content was vast. Tao Fengche swiped through the screen quickly, skimming over posts until he found the game review he was looking for. The video was fifteen minutes long, and he fast-forwarded it, finishing it in under ten minutes, feeling increasingly bored.

[Tao Fengche]: [I watched the review. Isn’t this just a single-player game with a social shell? It’s boring. Play it yourself if you want to.]

[Tao Fengche]: [The day after tomorrow is the exam. Instead of playing new games, you should be studying. Didn’t your uncle say if you don’t get into the top 100 in this monthly exam, he won’t treat you to bamboo shoot stir-fry?]

Wang Yuan: [You won’t understand what it means to “cram as the exam approaches”, you study god!]

[Tao Fengche]: [Well, take your time then. Treat yourself well these two days, because there aren’t many good days left.]

Wang Yuan immediately sent a string of crying emojis, causing the phone to vibrate incessantly. Tao Fengche put his phone on silent mode and placed it screen-down on the table, signaling Xu Song to turn on the dining room TV so he could watch while eating.

Since Tao Zhixing’s funeral, Tao Fengche always felt the house was too big and too empty. The well-trained servants walked almost silently, making the entire house so quiet that you could hear echoes when talking.

Having the TV on made the house feel livelier.

“At 9:30 this morning, Jiang Jingyun, a congressman of Jingpu City, arrived at the Taiqing City Supreme Court…”

Jiang Jingyun?

Tao Fengche, absent-minded, quickly caught the keyword and frowned instinctively.

Why is he everywhere?

He was about to eat a bite when he paused, put the food back in the bowl, and looked up to ask Xu Song for the remote to change the channel.

Ever since he smelled Jiang Jingyun’s pheromones on Sui Yuesheng and got slapped, he had developed a physical aversion to the congressman he had rarely interacted with. He found the very mention of Jiang Jingyun’s name repulsive.

Though he hadn’t figured out how to deal with encountering Jiang Jingyun socially, at this moment, Tao Fengche just wanted the congressman to disappear from his world so he could enjoy his meal and then do his homework.

But as he looked up, he was surprised to see this wasn’t a talk show focusing on political gossip but Kyushu’s evening news. His hand paused, then he decided to keep watching.

The following content greatly surprised him.

Kyushu was a federal country, with distinct divisions and significant autonomy between cities, each with its own legal system. The nine cities combined had a total of forty city congressmans, directly subordinate to the Kyushu Parliament. Though congressmen usually worked in their respective city offices, they did not handle specific municipal affairs. Instead, their primary duties involved appointments and legislation, including the power to impeach the president.

—It was not an exaggeration to call them the actual power holders of Kyushu.

But why would Jiang Jingyun travel across most of Kyushu to Taiqing’s high court instead of staying in his office? Tao Fengche wondered.

“… now for the detailed report.”

As the host’s voice trailed off, the screen switched to Jiang Jingyun’s face.

The well-dressed young congressman had an entire styling team, with every hair strand meticulously designed. His outfit, expensive yet not extravagant, perfectly fit his image as a “noble, approachable heir of a political family.”

Though aware that politicians always reinforced their personas in public, Tao Fengche silently sneered at the hypocrisy.

Despite the disdain, his eyes stayed glued to the TV. On-screen, Jiang Jingyun spoke eloquently into a reporter’s microphone, while off-screen, Tao Fengche’s frown deepened.

Jiang Jingyun’s trip to Taiqing was to attend a court session.

Since his campaign began, Jiang Jingyun had targeted the middle and lower-income groups, adopting a populist approach in his speeches. After taking office, he publicly disclosed his office address and an email. Jiang Jingyun personally promised that anyone facing difficulties or seeking justice could contact his mailbox. Whether it was a letter or an email, after the secretary’s initial screening, he would personally review the content and help resolve the issues within his capabilities.

……But according to Tao Fengche’s knowledge, many of Jiang Jingyun’s fervent admirers seized this opportunity to send love letters. Even the female omega class monitor from his high school, encouraged by her girlfriends, sent one along with her photo.

Because of this, Tao Fengche had always thought it was just for show, as there hadn’t been any notable results.

However, during this interview with the host, Jiang Jingyun mentioned that he recently received a signed complaint letter in his mailbox. It claimed that a certain company was forcing its employees to violate industry laws, which led to a fatal incident. After the incident, the company further violated labor relations laws, ignoring the deceased’s family and failing to deliver the promised compensation. Desperate, the family chose to write to him and provided evidence.

“After instructing my secretary to verify the authenticity of the matter, I initially planned to contact the Jingpu Prosecutor’s Office directly. However, since the company was registered in Taiqing, the Jingpu Prosecutor’s Office couldn’t enforce laws across cities, so we had to follow the local procedure.”

Tao Fengche pouted. Although overall a bit bizarre, he wasn’t surprised that Jiang Jingyun would intervene in such a matter.

This seemed to be the biggest case handled by Jiang Jingyun’s mailbox since its establishment—“An unscrupulous company forcing employees to break the law resulting in a murder case and then refusing compensation,” a sentence full of substantial information that easily garnered public sympathy. Jiang Jingyun first lent a helping hand and then personally flew to Taiqing to attend the trial, aligning with both morality and his persona, ensuring judicial fairness.

He also created momentum—Jiang Jingyun stated in the interview that regardless of the case verdict, he would propose related legislation at the National Congress at the end of the year. As long as it received half the votes, it would enter the legislative process.

A politician’s stunt achieving multiple objectives.

Tao Fengche had little interest in this, and the interview with Jiang Jingyun on the screen was nearing its end. He was about to lower his head to eat when he suddenly saw a particularly familiar figure on the screen. This person had been blocked by Jiang Jingyun’s secretary earlier, but with the photographer’s camera pulling back, the person’s full appearance was finally revealed.

The mysterious person was dressed in casual clothes, wearing a baseball cap, and sunglasses, thoroughly covered from head to toe like someone with a severe skin condition avoiding the sun.

But this figure was too familiar to Tao Fengche. Moreover, with the high-definition screen’s help, he glimpsed a wisp of slightly curly, light gray hair peeking out from under the cap’s brim.

—Sui Yuesheng!

This person claimed to be on a business trip to Taiqing, but in reality, had run off to be Jiang Jingyun’s sidekick?