5

Normally, the dares in these kinds of games were harmless—unless someone was deliberately trying to stir trouble.

Asking a guy for his contact info after confessing to him? Not exactly over the line.

Lu Huan didn’t take it too seriously. Just a game, after all.

But Chu Han, ever the protective one, exploded. She jumped off the couch and glared furiously at the girl who made the suggestion.

“Li Fei, what’s your problem? You know Huanhuan likes my brother, and you still tell her to confess to some random guy?”

Lu Huan was practically destined to become her sister-in-law—how could she go around confessing to other guys?

Li Fei flinched at the outburst, but didn’t want to back down. “It’s just a game! If she doesn’t want to do it, then drink instead!”

Drink?

If you didn’t complete the dare, you had to down a whole dozen shots. Finish all that and you’d probably end up in the ER getting your stomach pumped.

Chu Han wasn’t about to let anyone bully Lu Huan. She scoffed coldly. “Easy for you to say. Why don’t you do it?”

“I didn’t draw the dare! Why would it be me?”

Just as the two of them were about to go at it, Lu Huan quickly pulled the fuming Chu Han back. “It’s fine. It’s just a game.”

Her voice was calm as she looked across at Li Fei, lips curving into a faint, elegant smile.

“So I get to choose the target, right?”

That little smile somehow made people nervous. Remembering Lu Huan’s status as the heiress of the Lu family, Li Fei shrank back a bit and nodded.

“Great.”

It wasn’t like just any man would catch her eye. He had to be good-looking—refined, at the very least.

Narrowing her eyes, Lu Huan began scanning the room for a target.

Just then, led by his assistant, Chu Jun came hurrying down from the second floor—heading straight toward their corner of the room.

Her eyes swept across the room—then landed on Chu Jun. She gave him a once-over. Hmm… decent-looking. Not bad.

Maybe he’d do?

Lu Huan was just about to step forward when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone standing just behind him. Her eyes lit up.

Wasn’t that the guy she’d bumped into at the faculty building earlier today?

Seeing someone twice in one day—that had to mean something, right?

Without hesitation, she changed targets. Flashing a quick smile over her shoulder, she said, “Alright then, I pick him!”

She pointed casually—right in Chu Jun’s direction.

Most of the people who hung out with Lu Huan’s former self had never met Chu Jun in person.

Except Chu Han.

The moment she saw her older brother standing there, her eyes widened in shock. A mix of fear and anticipation crossed her face.

She’d snuck out today to hang with Lu Huan. If her brother found out, she was doomed.

And yet… part of her couldn’t help but be curious—what would Chu Jun think when he saw how different Lu Huan was now?

Torn between fleeing and staying to see his reaction, she hesitated—then chose to satisfy her curiosity.

Everyone else assumed Lu Huan had just chosen Chu Jun. Gasps and murmurs spread through the room.

No one expected her to have such high standards—picking someone that handsome?

But the truth was… Chu Jun didn’t recognize her at all.

He quickened his pace, walking straight past Lu Huan without even a glance, treating her like a complete stranger.

Lu Huan did the same—she didn’t recognize Chu Jun at all.

In just a few strides, Chu Jun stopped in front of Chu Han, his expression dark, voice low and sharp.

“What are you doing here?”

Chu Han shrank back instinctively. She’d always been a little afraid of her older brother, and now she looked like a child caught red-handed.

“I—I was just hanging out a bit,” she mumbled, looking pitiful.

“You think this is the kind of place you should be hanging out in?” Chu Jun’s tone turned even colder, his dark eyes glinting with anger as they bore into her.

Chu Han bit her lip, too scared to speak again.

Chu Jun looked up, eyes scanning the group of friends around her—but Lu Huan was nowhere to be seen.

“She came with you, didn’t she? Where is Lu Huan?”

His little sister had always been obedient and well-behaved. But ever since she met Lu Huan, she’d changed completely.

He blamed Lu Huan for it all—dragging her into places like this to mess around.

This time, he was going to make sure Lu Huan got a proper warning. Did she really think getting close to his sister would make him like her?
Not a chance.

Chu Han blinked in surprise.
“What? You didn’t see her? Huanhuan just walked right past you!”

“What?”

“She’s right over there!”

Chu Han’s hand trembled slightly as she pointed toward Lu Huan in the distance.

At that moment, the girl in question had stepped in front of Gu Zhendong, blocking his path and trying to strike up a conversation—asking for his contact info.

Chu Jun and Gu Zhendong had come downstairs one after the other, and Gu Zhendong had been on his way out.

Suddenly, a girl appeared right in front of him, cutting him off.

Gu Zhendong instinctively frowned and took a step back, putting some space between them.

He moved left—Lu Huan followed.

He stepped right—so did she.

She was completely blocking his way.

Gu Zhendong’s expression darkened. His gaze grew sharp and unsettling.

Even someone like Chu Jun felt pressure around Gu Zhendong—but Lu Huan? She didn’t flinch at all.

Instead, she gave him a sweet smile and said cheerfully, “Fancy seeing you again!”

Again?

His brows furrowed even deeper. He lowered his gaze, studying her face—there was something vaguely familiar about her.

Lu Huan’s smile lit up her features. Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled, bright and clear.

“We ran into each other at school earlier today. I accidentally bumped into you, remember? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten me.”

At her words, a flicker of recognition crossed Gu Zhendong’s face.

Now that she mentioned it, he did recall the incident.

Back then, her eyes had been red and watery—clearly just finished crying—and her whole expression had looked fragile and hurt.

He hadn’t paid her much attention at the time. Never expected to run into the same girl again here.

His eyes dropped to hers. Those pale, luminous eyes were so clear they seemed almost unreal—like the finest piece of glass.

Seeing her again, twice in one day, Gu Zhendong couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

Was she doing this on purpose?

In a place like this, women trying to flirt with men were nothing new.

Gu Zhendong curled his lips into a cold smirk, his dark eyes sweeping over Lu Huan with a faint, shadowy chill.

Of course. A beautiful man like him, with that cold, untouchable look—when he got angry, it only made him more irresistible.

Lu Huan’s eyes sparkled.

“Mr. Gu… right?”

She tried to recall—her teacher had called him “President Gu” earlier.

“Mr. Gu, I fell for you at first sight. Can I add you on WeChat? So I can… pursue you properly?”

Her voice was sweet—sweet like it had been soaked in honey—but without being cloying.

It had been a long time since Gu Zhendong had heard a voice that pleasant. For a moment, the irritation in his chest seemed to dissolve into nothing.

But this was just another woman trying to flirt. He wasn’t interested.

Women like her always pushed their luck—and one moment of carelessness could bring endless trouble.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his expression dark.

“Move.”

Finally, the handsome man spoke.

But Lu Huan had a mission tonight, and she wasn’t about to back down that easily. She glanced over her shoulder at the small crowd watching behind her, then leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a softer, more pleading tone.

“Mr. Gu… actually, my friends and I are playing a game. I lost a round, and now I have to ask for your contact info. Would you mind just doing me this one favor?”

She left out the part about the confession—just framed it as a harmless dare.

Her expression turned adorably pitiful, but the sly tilt at the corners of her eyes gave her away—she knew exactly how to tease.

Gu Zhendong, a man known for his cold heart, didn’t seem like the type to be moved by something so childish. He had no intention of entertaining her.

He stepped forward, ready to walk right past her without another word.

But just as he brushed past her shoulder, a mechanical voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

—Xiao Hao: You still haven’t completed today’s task. Helping this girl out counts as finishing it.

—Gu Zhendong: Shut up.

—Xiao Hao: …

The system, Xiao Hao, felt deeply wronged. Of all the people it could’ve been assigned to, why did it have to end up with such a cold, sharp-tempered villain?

Half a month ago, Gu Zhendong collapsed from sheer exhaustion due to overwork. Thankfully, his secretary had dropped by and rushed him to the hospital just in time.

He’d never been in good health—frequent chest tightness, shortness of breath, and splitting headaches plagued him. One careless moment and he could pass out on the spot.

As the only heir of the Gu family, his relatives had always been deeply concerned. Since childhood, they’d spared no effort—consulting top doctors, running every test imaginable, trying all kinds of medications. But nothing worked.

Western medicine offered no clear diagnosis. Out of options, the family turned to traditional Chinese medicine.

Yet every doctor said the same thing: his body was simply too weak and needed long-term rest.

But this time, something was different.

When Gu Zhendong woke up from that most recent collapse, there was something new—an unfamiliar mechanical voice in his head.

It called itself the “Villain Self-Salvation System,” and introduced itself as Xiao Hao. According to it, he would receive one random task each day, and if he failed to complete it…

He’d die.

At first, Gu Zhendong thought it was some elaborate prank—or maybe a symptom of his deteriorating health. A hallucination, nothing more.

He’d scoffed and ignored it.

After all, he was never someone who placed much value on his own life.

So when Xiao Hao gave him his first task, he brushed it off.

But the consequences came faster—and hit harder—than expected. His body suddenly shut down, his limbs went numb, and he collapsed again, rushed to the ER in critical condition.

After he regained consciousness, his body was so frail he could barely breathe. It wasn’t until he reluctantly started completing Xiao Hao’s daily tasks that he began to see the slightest signs of improvement.

Today’s task was simple: Do a good deed.

Deadline: midnight.

There were still three or four hours left until the deadline—plenty of time. He wasn’t in any rush.

But the girl’s voice… it was soft and gentle, like a breeze brushing past. It somehow swept away the irritation in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

That had never happened before.

On a strange impulse, Gu Zhendong asked the system a question.

—Her voice is… different.

—Xiao Hao: Yeah, it’s pretty nice.

—No. When she speaks, I feel like I can actually breathe easier.

The system, Xiao Hao, was momentarily stunned. It didn’t understand what he meant.

Before it could reply, Gu Zhendong asked again:

—You’re sure this counts as completing the task?

—Xiao Hao: Of course!

It’s just adding her on WeChat, after all. Worst case, you can always delete her later.

Gu Zhendong wasn’t the kind of man who changed his mind easily.

But the girl standing in front of him—her voice was different.

Soft, pleasant, and unexpectedly soothing.

As she spoke, the suffocating weight in his chest began to lift, bit by bit, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of calm.

It was strange.

Other people’s voices usually irritated him.

But hers…

He actually didn’t mind at all.

=^_^=