[Not really wanting to keep company]

Young Master Xiao looked very clear-headed, his mental state seemingly normal.

Which meant everyone else must be losing their minds.

To prove they weren’t spouting nonsense, Xue Duo was determined to reveal the truth to the world, even at the risk of being assassinated by Liu Yuebo.

[Blessings to Share, Troubles to Ghost — Group Chat]

CroissantNotBread (Xiao Kesong): [He slipped.]

CroissantNotBread: [He definitely didn’t mean it. Let’s just let it slide, okay?]

SchoolStartPhobia (Xue Duo): [@CroissantNotBread, was this a foot slip too?]

SchoolStartPhobia: [Picture.jpg

(Chen Zhe stepping on Liu Yuebo · Close-up · High Definition)]

The moment the photo was sent, the group chat exploded.

SomeRichKidA: [Holy crap!]

SomeRichKidB: [Damn, that’s wild! Who’s this hottie? So spicy! Got his WeChat? @SchoolStartPhobia @CroissantNotBread]

SomeRichKidC: [Those legs—long and straight. Impressive.]

SomeRichKidD: [You rich kids play so fancy, even posting the MVP settlement screen?]

YiNan (He Yinan): [@SchoolStartPhobia, why do you photograph everything and post it in the group?]

[Group Notification: SchoolStartPhobia has recalled a message.]

SomeRichKidB: [Too late, screenshot saved.]

SomeRichKidC: [Too late, screenshot saved.]

SomeRichKidD: [Too late, screenshot saved.]

SomeRichKidE: Too late, screenshot saved.

SomeRichKidF: [Too late, screenshot saved.]

IAmChenZhe: [Too late, screenshot saved.]

Everyone: “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Wait, who?!?!

Xue Duo: ………………………………

Why is Chen Zhe in the group?!?!

The chat fell silent again.

This time, it was a deathly silence.

Xiao Kesong turned off his phone screen and leaned over to peek at Chen Zhe’s phone. “So you’re in the group?”

Chen Zemian replied, “Yeah, you added me before.”

Xiao Kesong remembered that was true and couldn’t help but laugh. “Hahaha, you never said a word, so they all thought you weren’t there. Talking smack about you right in front of you? That’s so awkward—I’m embarrassed for them.”

Chen Zemian spouted nonsense without missing a beat. “I stayed quiet on purpose, just to pop up when they were badmouthing me and scare the hell out of them.”

Xiao Kesong found Chen Zhe even more amusing, like a sneaky cat hiding in a corner, ready to pounce and startle someone.

He asked, “What did Xue Duo send just now? He recalled it too fast, I didn’t see.”

Chen Zemian said, “I didn’t see it either.”

Xiao Kesong was surprised. “Didn’t you say you took a screenshot?”

Chen Zemian, deadpan, replied, “Nah, just messing with him.”

Xiao Kesong glanced toward Xue Duo and, sure enough, saw him fidgeting restlessly.

“You’re so bad,” Xiao Kesong said.

Chen Zemian gave a nonchalant hum.

Xiao Kesong let out another soft chuckle.

Chen Zemian propped his hand up, looking at Xiao Kesong with confusion. “Why do you keep laughing?”

Xiao Kesong tilted his head at Chen Zemian. “I think I told you before, every time you make those single-syllable sounds, it’s super funny. Like a little cat.”

He was probably referring to something he’d said to Chen Zhe. Chen Zemian didn’t remember, and he didn’t think his “hm” sounded cat-like, so he stayed silent, giving Xiao Kesong a sidelong glance that wordlessly conveyed his exasperation.

Xiao Kesong couldn’t hold back a grin. “Seriously, it’s just like my Maine Coon at home, all chirpy and grumbly.”

Xue Duo, coming over to deliver coffee to Xiao Kesong, overheard this and nearly tripped, almost spilling the double-sugar iced mocha onto Xiao Shao’s head.

Who’s like a Maine Coon? Chen Zhe?

A Maine Coon wouldn’t dump eight iced coffees on someone’s head, step on their knee, and scare the smug Liu Yuebo into silence.

Xue Duo set down the coffee, intending to pull Xiao Kesong aside to privately discuss what had happened earlier. But Chen Zhe was right there, silent, staring at him with a predatory gaze, as if one wrong word would get Xue Duo dragged out and beheaded.

Seeing Xue Duo approach, Xiao Kesong made plans with him to head to the shooting range later for a match. Then, he pulled out his phone to show Chen Zemian pictures of his cat, asking if he kept pets.

Chen Zemian glanced at the photo. “Kitten, huh.”

Xiao Kesong said, “Yeah, just two months old, still drinking goat milk.”

Chen Zemian: “Is something that small easy to raise?”

Xiao Kesong sighed. “Not at all. It cries nonstop when it can’t see me, keeps me up at night. So, I’m asking—do you want to take it?”

Chen Zemian laughed. “Sure, I don’t need sleep.”

Xiao Kesong let out an “ugh.” “That’s not what I meant. Didn’t you say before you really liked this cat? You even said its eyes had spirit. How’d you forget already? Were you just humoring me?”

“I wasn’t humoring,” Chen Zemian said honestly. “Just flattering.”

Pure flattery.

Chen Zhe didn’t just dislike cats—he was terrified of them.

In the original novel, there was a scene where a young master, knowing Chen Zhe’s fear of cats, tricked him into going to a cat café to pick something up, then locked the door to keep him inside. The young master didn’t know Chen Zhe’s fear stemmed from an allergy to animal dander. By the time he brought others to gawk, they found Chen Zhe had suffered a severe allergic reaction and had passed out.

Chen Zemian glanced at the group of rich kids nearby. The original novel’s plot hadn’t fully kicked off yet, and that young master hadn’t appeared.

No rush. They’d cross paths eventually.

Xiao Kesong, unaware of Chen Zhe’s fear or allergy, enthusiastically pushed for Chen Zhe to take the kitten. “It’s really adorable and super clingy. Just a bit dumb—every time I leave and come back, it acts like it doesn’t know me. Scares itself and hides behind the couch when I open the door, then comes out later to re-bond and stick to me again.”

“I don’t keep cats,” Chen Zemian said, thinking for a moment. “You could ask Ye Chen.”

In the novel, Ye Chen had a Maine Coon. The cold, taciturn officer was secretly a cat fanatic—a stark contrast that left a deep impression on Chen Zemian.

Now that he thought about it, the Maine Coon Ye Chen had in the book might very well be this one from Xiao Kesong.

Xiao Kesong’s eyes widened. “No way I’m giving my cat to that cold-blooded guy.”

Chen Zemian gave Xiao Kesong a sidelong look. “You’re about to abandon it, and you’re calling someone else cold-blooded?”

Xiao Kesong was speechless. On a whim, he sent the kitten’s photo to Ye Chen.

A short while later, Ye Chen replied, saying he’d consider it.

Having found a potential home for the cat, Xiao Kesong was in high spirits. He was about to praise Chen Zhe for his foresight when he turned and noticed someone standing behind him, unnoticed until now.

“Zhuonian?”

Xiao Kesong’s tone was surprised. “When did you get here?”

The moment he heard the name “Zhuonian,” Chen Zemian’s heart skipped a beat, a tingling sensation spreading from the back of his head down his neck.

‘Oh no.’

He’d been so focused on dealing with the rich young masters that he completely forgot about Lu Zhuonian.

‘How long has he been here? When did he arrive?’

Chen Zemian had sharp hearing—before this, no one had ever managed to approach him from behind without him noticing. Yet he hadn’t sensed a thing!

‘How did Lu Zhuonian walk so silently?’

‘Is he a ghost or something?’

Xiao Kesong had the same question. “I didn’t even know you were here. Why are you just standing there without saying anything?”

Lu Zhuonian’s voice was deep, coming from slightly above and behind Chen Zemian, though his words were directed at Xiao Kesong. “The venue’s ready. You and Xue Duo can head over for the match.”

Xiao Kesong, ever the loyal friend, didn’t forget to cover for Chen Zhe regarding the coffee incident. “Earlier, Chen Zhe accidentally spilled a cup of coffee and stained the sofa. Just take the cost from my card.”

Lu Zhuonian actually chuckled. “It’s just a sofa. No big deal.”

Xiao Kesong patted Chen Zemian’s shoulder. “I’m heading to the range.”

Feeling guilty, Chen Zemian seized the chance to stand up. “Young Master Xiao, I’ll go with you.”

Lu Zhuonian’s gaze darkened slightly.

Xiao Kesong shot Chen Zemian a disapproving look, as if scolding him for missing a chance to network with Lu Zhuonian. His expression carried a hint of exasperation, like he was disappointed in Chen’s lack of ambition. “I need you to tag along? If you want to keep someone company, why don’t you stay with Zhuonian instead?”

Chen Zemian: “…”

‘Thanks, but I’d rather not.’

Xiao Kesong, oblivious to Chen Zemian’s inner thoughts, called Xue Duo and left, throwing Chen Zemian a “perform well” look before going.

Chen Zemian: “…”

‘Thanks, but I don’t really want to perform.’

Lu Zhuonian sat down on the cushioned chair beside Chen Zemian, his demeanor calm and composed, his tone relaxed and casual. “Sit.”

Chen Zemian had no choice but to sit. The moment his eyes landed on the coffee cup, inspiration struck, and he quickly stood again. “I’ll go get you a coffee, Young Master Lu. What would you like?”

Lu Zhuonian tapped the table lightly with his left hand. “Planning to treat me to an iced coffee to cool off too?”

Chen Zemian’s scalp tightened. Lu Zhuonian’s gaze felt loaded with meaning, as if he could see straight through Zemian’s facade to his very soul. It gave Chen Zemian the eerie feeling that all his acting over the past few days had been for nothing.

“Young Master Lu, you’re so busy, yet you still have time to check the WeChat group?” Chen Zemian said, unsure if Lu Zhuonian had heard about the incident from the group or if Liu Yuebo had ratted him out. Not knowing how to respond properly, he could only probe. “It’s all just joking around. No need to take it seriously, Young Master Lu.”

Lu Zhuonian didn’t respond, simply looking at Chen Zemian.

Chen Zemian, in turn, quietly sized up Lu Zhuonian.

Today, Lu Zhuonian was dressed in a white dress shirt, its hem tucked into tailored trousers. Perhaps because he’d been active at the shooting range, he hadn’t worn a leather belt but instead opted for X-shaped suspenders to keep his shirt in place. The suspenders accentuated his straight, pine-like posture, adding a pulled-taut elegance. The stark black-and-white contrast maxed out the visual impact, exuding an intimidating aura. Even without a gun in hand, he radiated the wild, predatory beauty of a hunter.

Chen Zemian felt the weight of scrutiny.

Lu Zhuonian was indeed scrutinizing—he was observing Chen Zemian.

From the moment he first noticed Chen Zhe, he had always felt something off about him.

Chen Zhe was too peculiar. The way he spoke was odd, his actions were unexpected, and everything about him—from head to toe, inside and out—radiated an abnormality.

Abnormality meant danger, unpredictability, something beyond expectations.

But it also meant rarity, mystery, novelty.

Lu Zhuonian was conflicted. Before he could decide whether to approach or keep his distance, his subconscious had already made the choice for him.

He couldn’t help but unconsciously track Chen Zhe’s every move.

A leopard can’t change its spots, and though Chen Zhe tried to act subservient, he was terrible at pretending. Lu Zhuonian, on the other hand, was exceptionally patient and adept at catching details most people would overlook.

So, every time Chen Zhe couldn’t suppress his temper and got into a scuffle, Lu Zhuonian happened to catch him in the act.

When caught, Chen Zhe would behave like a cat whose tail had been spotted, frantically trying to cover it up with his paws. But his sharp teeth and claws only made things worse—the more he tried to hide, the more he revealed, until he eventually gave up and stopped pretending altogether.

It was particularly fascinating.