10

Lu Huan named the little calico kitten Gun Gun—the same name as the silver shaded cat she used to own.

Gun Gun was only a few days old and still couldn’t relieve herself on her own. Since Lu Huan couldn’t watch her 24/7, and didn’t fully trust the housekeepers to take proper care of her, she decided to temporarily leave Gun Gun at a pet shop near her school.

The moment she saw the shop owner, Lu Huan was stunned by her beauty.

The owner looked young, probably around Lu Huan’s age. Honestly, Lu Huan thought it was a waste for someone that pretty to be running a pet shop. With that face, she could be in showbiz, destined for stardom.

The shop owner seemed used to getting looks like that and greeted her with a friendly smile. “How can I help you?”

Lu Huan explained the situation and handed over the kitten cradled in her arms.

Coincidentally, one of the American Shorthair cats in the shop had just given birth to five kittens.

Lu Huan hesitated. “Will the mother cat reject her?”

“She’s very gentle,” the owner reassured her. “I named her Little Walnut. We’ll let her get used to Gun Gun’s scent first. Once she accepts her as one of her own, she’ll start grooming her.”

Little Walnut clearly trusted the shop owner. When the owner gently scratched her head, the mother cat let out a soft purr and meowed lazily.

Carefully, the shop owner brought Gun Gun closer to her. Little Walnut leaned forward to sniff the new kitten.

Not picking up a familiar scent, the mother cat hissed and bared her teeth in warning. The owner quickly stroked her head and soothed her. “Easy now, no being mean.”

Gun Gun let out a raspy mewl, startled by the hiss. The sound seemed to tug at the mother cat’s instincts—she hesitated, then leaned down to sniff Gun Gun again.

Moved by the pitiful cry, Little Walnut gently picked the kitten up by the scruff of her neck and carried her into the nest.

Gun Gun nestled in with the other newborns, pushing her little head in for milk, her tiny paws instinctively kneading as she suckled.

The two girls crouched nearby, both letting out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the mother cat had accepted Gun Gun.

Before leaving, Lu Huan added the shop owner on WeChat so they could stay in touch easily.

Lu Huan introduced herself, and the pet shop owner responded, “My name is Yan Shi.”

Yan Shi??

Lu Huan had read the novel several times and remembered every character clearly.

If she recalled correctly, Yan Shi was the secret lover of the second male lead. Later, when he fell for Ye Sangsang, he coldly dumped Yan Shi.

No wonder she looked so stunning!

Lu Huan quickly composed herself. “I’ll leave Gun Gun with you for a few days, then pick her up Friday night.”

That morning’s class was no different—Lu Huan still felt completely lost.

The moment class ended, she went straight to her advisor to submit her application to switch majors.

The advisor stared at her in disbelief, raising her voice. “You want to change majors?”

Switching majors required an entrance exam, and Lu Huan had barely shown up to class all year. Could she even pass?

But Lu Huan nodded firmly.

“Yes. I want to transfer to the broadcasting department.”

The advisor, aware of her privileged background, didn’t say much.

“Alright then. Start preparing for the exam.”

“Thank you, teacher.”

As Lu Huan walked away, the advisor couldn’t help but sigh.

Being born into a wealthy family really did make life easier.

Donate two buildings? Sure, why not.

Want to switch majors? Go right ahead.

Even if she didn’t pass the exam, they could always just throw in some more money.

Over the next few days, Lu Huan focused entirely on preparing for the transfer exam. She spent every day in the library, buried in books and notes.

Fortunately, she hadn’t completely forgotten what she’d learned before—some of it was still familiar, making the studying a lot smoother than she expected.

Before she knew it, Friday had arrived.

Lu Huan left the library and headed straight for the pet shop.

Over the past few days, she had made sure to visit Gun Gun whenever she had time.

Thanks to the mother cat’s milk, Gun Gun had grown noticeably bigger—fluffier and rounder by the day.

Lu Huan gently patted the little kitten’s head, and Gun Gun let out a soft meow in response.

“Gun Gun, do you still remember Mommy?”

Lu Huan asked the same question every time she visited, worried that the little one might forget her.

Yan Shi had also prepared kitten formula, a cozy little bed, and other supplies for Gun Gun, intending to give them to Lu Huan for free.

Yan Shi didn’t need the money—running a pet shop was just a way to pass the time—but Lu Huan insisted on paying, leaving her no choice but to agree.

“Alright then, just give me three hundred yuan.”

Lu Huan transferred the money to Yan Shi via WeChat—and just like that, her account balance was nearly wiped out.

To be honest, the original Lu Huan had been quite the big spender. In the novel, Lu Zhong and his wife used to give her a monthly allowance of over 100,000 yuan.

They had just topped up her account at the start of the month, and now, only halfway through, she was down to a thousand yuan.

Correction—make that seven hundred.

Lu Huan let out a quiet sigh. She wasn’t really the Lu family’s child anymore, so she didn’t feel comfortable asking them for money.

Besides, she had never been the type to ask anyone for help financially.

She’d grown up in a single-parent household, raised by her mother who had worked hard just to get by. Back in high school, even with boarding expenses, she could make it through a whole month on less than a hundred yuan.

When she got into college, she started working part-time to support herself. No matter how little the pay, she’d take on voice acting gigs without hesitation.

It was only after she gradually made a name for herself in the industry that her rates began to rise. Even then, she never liked the idea of relying on others for money.

—

Gu Group – Top Floor

The day after he dropped Lu Huan off, Gu Zhendong asked his assistant to look into her background.

The assistant worked quickly, delivering twenty years’ worth of information and documents onto his desk within just twenty minutes.

But Gu Zhendong was tied up with an ongoing project and didn’t give it much thought at the time.

A few days later, the familiar symptoms returned—headache, tightness in his chest.

His first instinct was to reach for painkillers, but then—like a whisper in his mind—he heard that sweet, soft voice again.

Her voice had become his medicine.

Tossing the painkillers aside, Gu Zhendong, almost on impulse, opened the voice message Lu Huan had sent a few nights ago and played it again.

“Keep dreaming! There’s no way I’m reading that!”

But this time, hearing her voice didn’t help. The headache still throbbed dully in his skull.

Gu Zhendong mentally questioned the little AI in his mind—Xiao Hao.

—Why didn’t it work this time?

—Xiao Hao replied hesitantly: “Maybe the previous two times were just a coincidence?”

Coincidence? Twice?

He didn’t buy that.

Every time Lu Huan spoke, the pain in his head and the pressure in his chest would ease—until it disappeared completely.

But Xiao Hao couldn’t give a solid answer. It was, after all, just a task-issuing and punishment-enforcing system.

Normally, as long as Gu Zhendong completed the tasks it assigned, his life would be extended. But now, suddenly, there was this mysterious girl whose voice alone seemed able to heal him. That was way beyond the system’s logic.

Maybe… it just hadn’t been upgraded yet?

That would explain why it had been lagging so much lately.

Xiao Hao had only ever been bound to two hosts. The first one refused to follow its instructions and died shortly after being bound. Gu Zhendong was its second host.

These systems leveled up based on the completion of assigned missions. Xiao Hao was still a low-level system, steadily gaining experience through each task.

Gu Zhendong replayed the short voice clip several more times, but it was useless—no effect at all.

In the end, with no other option, he took a painkiller with a gulp of water.

The painkillers kicked in quickly. Within ten minutes, the pounding in Gu Zhendong’s head had eased. His gaze drifted to the stack of documents on Lu Huan that had been left on his desk.

His expression darkened as he reached over and picked them up.

Kong Xun was always thorough in his work. Although he didn’t know why his boss had asked him to investigate a young woman, he had still compiled a complete report.

Lu Huan’s date of birth, blood type, the schools she had attended over the years—even her history of chasing after Chu Jun—everything was laid out in meticulous detail.

Gu Zhendong recalled Chu Jun referring to Lu Huan as “a younger sister” that night. He let out a cold, mocking chuckle and tossed the file back onto the desk.

—What’s today’s task?

—Xiao Hao: Hold a woman’s hand for more than one minute.

…What?

Gu Zhendong’s face instantly darkened, his eyes turning even colder.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a villain self-rescue system? Why had it suddenly turned into something out of a dating sim?

—Are you messing with me?

—Xiao Hao: Tasks are randomly assigned from above. Please complete it promptly, or a penalty will be triggered.

A penalty…

He remembered the last punishment all too clearly—he’d nearly passed out from it. His lips pressed into a tight line, and his expression grew gloomier.

That evening, Gu Zhendong had a business dinner to attend.

Because of his lingering headache, his face remained stormy the entire time. He sat there in silence, radiating a chilling presence.

Dinner was supposed to be a pleasant, social affair, but with Gu Zhendong’s icy demeanor casting a shadow over the table, no one could enjoy themselves. The atmosphere was stiff and quiet—impossible to relax.

Trying to ease the tension, someone decided to be clever and arranged for a stunning beauty to sit beside him.

The woman was dressed provocatively, her shoulders bare and her perfume overwhelming.

The scent was so strong it made Gu Zhendong nauseous. His headache flared again, and he rubbed his temples, thinking about the system’s latest task.

Hold a woman’s hand? Was that really something a villain should be doing?

He sat stiffly in his seat, the air around him heavy with cold, oppressive energy. The table instantly fell silent.

No one knew what they might have said to offend him—but clearly, something had set off President Gu.

One of the men across the table gave a subtle signal to the woman, prompting her to make a move.

Understanding his cue, she picked up a bottle of wine and rose to her feet. Leaning forward with a practiced, flirtatious smile, she cooed, “President Gu, let me offer you a toast.”

Women like this had always hovered around Gu Zhendong—eager, calculating, clinging to the hope of getting close. But none had ever caught his eye.

The one beside him now was a prime example. She relied on her looks, assuming that a bit of charm was enough to win him over.

Her syrupy voice grated on his nerves.

She leaned in even closer, her sleeve brushing against his, and the overwhelming scent of perfume invaded his senses.

Gu Zhendong had always hated people invading his personal space. A chill flashed through his eyes, and he said coldly, “Get lost.”

The woman had already been intimidated by him, and the moment he barked those two words, the smile on her face froze. Meeting the icy frost in his gaze, her expression turned ghostly pale.

Still unwilling to give up, the woman bit her red lip and tried to act coy, her voice trembling. “President Gu…”

Most men would’ve fallen for that kind of act—but Gu Zhendong was not like most men.

He suddenly stood up, his chair scraping sharply against the floor, and strode out of the room without a word.

Everyone in the room was left stunned, exchanging bewildered looks.

The driver, having received word, was already waiting downstairs.

As soon as Gu Zhendong got into the car, he pulled off the jacket the woman had touched and tossed it to Kong Xun in disgust.

The rest of the ride, he closed his eyes, trying to rest.

—Xiao Hao gently reminded him: “Host, it’s already 11:55 PM. You still haven’t completed today’s task.”

Gu Zhendong pressed his lips into a thin line and ignored the warning.

But just as he stepped out of the car at the foot of his apartment building, a shrill alarm went off in his ears.

—Xiao Hao: “Countdown over. Task failed. Initiating penalty!”

The moment the system’s cold verdict fell, darkness overtook his vision. His strength drained in an instant, and he collapsed to the ground.

Faintly, he heard Kong Xun’s panicked voice calling out, “President Gu!”

Just before losing consciousness, one name echoed in his mind—hers.

=^_^=