The car struggled forward, finally coming to a stop in front of a dilapidated apartment building. The structure wasn’t tall, and only a single light glowed on the third floor, resembling the eyes of a beast in the thick fog and drizzle.
The trunk popped open, revealing stacks of books that left Le Mang momentarily stunned. He hadn’t considered that moving so many books would be necessary—in his world, everything bought was supposed to be placed directly where it belonged.
Lin Zhiyan rolled up her sleeves, only for Le Mang to grab her wrist abruptly.
Tilting his chin up, he declared, “I’ll do it.”
Lin Zhiyan eyed him skeptically. “I don’t doubt your physique, but I do doubt your competence.”
Le Mang was tall and lean, with the defined muscles of someone who frequented the gym. But she didn’t trust him with manual labor, especially not hauling books. The last thing she needed was damaged textbooks before classes even started.
“I said I’ll handle it,” Le Mang grumbled, pushing his damp red hair back before bending down to scoop up an armful of books. The moment he straightened, though, he yelped, “Why are these so heavy?!”
Clearly, he’d forgotten that not everything was as evenly weighted and ergonomic as gym equipment.
Lin Zhiyan saw him wobble and immediately pressed a hand against his head to steady him.
Oh no, don’t ruin her books—she still planned to resell them later!
Le Mang froze, arms full, his face cupped in her hands, his green eyes wide like headlights. His lips twitched as he muttered, “What are you doing? I’m holding stuff!”
Lin Zhiyan squeezed his cheeks firmly. “Put them down. I’m worried.”
Le Mang’s brows twitched. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Your health can be fixed with your money, but my books can’t!
“Fine or not, no.” Lin Zhiyan released him. “Put them down. I’ll get a duffel bag.”
Le Mang watched her pull away, torn between amusement and the heat creeping up his ears. Still, he obediently returned the books to the trunk before muttering, “Fine, fine. Have it your way.”
Lin Zhiyan swiftly headed back inside, rummaging for a duffel bag before returning. Together, they loaded the books into it, each gripping one end as they carried it upstairs.
The staircase was steep, poorly lit, and lined with graffiti-covered walls.
Le Mang, being taller, held his side higher, forcing Lin Zhiyan to lift hers more to keep balance. After a couple of steps, he noticed and raised his side further, watching with amusement as she strained to match him.
He tried it again, but this time, she caught on.
Lin Zhiyan narrowed her eyes, tilting her head up to glare at him in silence.
Le Mang felt a mix of guilt and the urge to laugh.
She usually wore a calm, faintly mocking smile, as if nothing could ruffle her. But now, with this petulant expression, she seemed almost childish—uncharacteristically so.
Pressing his lips together, Le Mang feigned innocence. “Didn’t notice.”
Lin Zhiyan looked away. “You’re doing it on purpose.”
“Well, I’m lowering it now,” he finally chuckled, his damp red hair making his grin even brighter. He quickly changed the subject. “Aren’t you scared, though? This place is creepy.”
“I’ve lived here for decades. Why would I be?” Her voice was light, echoing eerily in the stairwell. “The one who was afraid… died a long time ago.”
Le Mang blinked, instantly turning to stare at her.
Lin Zhiyan’s face was half-hidden in the dimness, her eyes unnaturally wide and vacant—like a ghost’s.
Le Mang paled.
Then, her eyes crinkled as she burst into laughter.
Le Mang: “…”
Realizing he’d been pranked, he exclaimed, “Why’d you scare me like that?!”
“You tease me, but I can’t tease back?” Lin Zhiyan kept her gaze ahead, a smirk playing on her lips. “But you’re really afraid of ghosts? They don’t exist, you know.”
“You’re so annoying sometimes,” Le Mang grumbled before retorting, “Just because you haven’t seen one doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”
Lin Zhiyan laughed again, this time with a hint of derision.
Le Mang caught it, puzzled, until she met his eyes and said softly, “If they existed, why would they haunt people who’ve done them no harm? Wouldn’t they go after those they hate? Or do ghosts, like people, only prey on the weak?”
The words unsettled him, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. His chest tightened, but before he could dwell on it, they reached her door.
She dropped the bag, raising her arms as she slid down the door, her body and face pressed against it like melting putty.
Le Mang found it oddly endearing, and his thoughts scattered.
Grabbing her collar, he wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that dirty?”
Lin Zhiyan, still smushed against the door, deadpanned, “You didn’t complain about sawdust when you were chopping wood earlier.”
“That’s not the same!” Le Mang huffed, though he couldn’t help laughing. “Besides, you were having fun too.”
He remembered how she’d looked that afternoon—hair wild, face glistening with sweat.
“Alright, sit down for now.” Lin Zhiyan pushed the door open, shoving him inside. “When you shower, leave your clothes outside. I’ll dry them for you.”
“Dry them?” Le Mang gaped. “You don’t have a dryer?”
Sometimes, Lin Zhiyan wanted to crack open his skull to see if it was empty. But since illegal brain inspections were frowned upon, she just arched a brow.
Le Mang, however, quickly realized his mistake as he took in her living space.
The cramped room was packed with sparse, worn furniture. The dim light barely illuminated the bed shoved against the wall, the old sofa and table crowding the center. There was no kitchen or living room—just this.
Le Mang paused, staring at Lin Zhiyan. “You—”
He didn’t finish, but his shock and distaste were plain.
Lin Zhiyan was pleased, though she only lowered her eyes and murmured, “I’ll find you something to wear.”
Her poverty was obvious. Even someone as dense as him should get the hint now.
If he still didn’t, well—she was out of ideas.
Le Mang shut the door, lips parting as he frowned, looking like a runway model who’d accidentally wandered into a wet market. He held his arms up, tiptoeing as if afraid the aura of poverty would stain his designer clothes.
Lin Zhiyan found it increasingly hilarious. She rummaged through her old wardrobe until a voice suddenly spoke beside her: “Your clothes are so ugly.”
Startled, she turned to find Le Mang looming over her shoulder.
Arms crossed, he leaned in, scrutinizing. “Old and tacky.”
Lin Zhiyan paused. “You’ll be wearing one of these ‘old and tacky’ outfits soon.”
“No way.” Le Mang scoffed. “My car has a drying system. Just toss my clothes in there.”
After speaking, he looked at her again and said, "If you can work diligently by my side, I wouldn’t mind picking out more suitable clothes for you as payment."
Why not just give me money? Do you celestial elites think cash is too vulgar? Why always resort to these material rewards?
Lin Zhiyan was utterly exasperated.
Fortunately, after saying this, Le Mang seemed to realize his own awkwardness and quickly slipped away to the bathroom. But once inside, faint exclamations of surprise could be heard.
The young master’s astonishment spoke louder than words.
Lin Zhiyan took a deep breath and walked over. "What’s wrong?"
"What is this? Trash?" Le Mang pointed at the half-cut plastic water bottle on the wall.
"That’s my toothbrush and cup." Afraid he might provoke her into anger, Lin Zhiyan patiently explained each item. "This is a soap dish made from a water bottle. This bottle contains a shampoo-and-body-wash combo—I squeezed in some travel-sized samples. The water heater’s knob is here; it won’t get too hot because I’m trying to save electricity. And this bucket catches the dripping water from the faucet for daily use."
She finished her explanation in one breath and watched as Le Mang’s expression shifted from shock to bewilderment, before finally settling into something complicated in his green eyes.
Perfect. That’s exactly the look I wanted.
Now, time to make it rain.
Lin Zhiyan smiled, making sure her eyes glistened slightly. "Alright, hurry up and shower. It’s getting late."
Le Mang said nothing, only nodding silently.
Lin Zhiyan turned to leave as he carefully placed his clothes in the basket outside the door before closing it to wash up.
The water was indeed lukewarm—barely warm.
Given it was summer, the temperature was refreshing enough.
But what about winter?
A vague question surfaced in Le Mang’s mind.
His mood had been good earlier, but now it felt like a stone was weighing on his chest.
The tepid water cascaded over his body, yet the restless confusion inside him refused to wash away. It was like being abruptly dragged into an exam with incomprehensible questions, while she had already finished her paper and left early.
After showering, he picked up the basket. His clothes had been dried, but atop them lay a small tube of ointment. He picked it up—bruise relief cream.
She hadn’t mentioned anything, just left it there for him.
The sound of running water came from the sink outside the bathroom.
Her shadow flickered beyond the door, as if she was washing something.
"Lin Zhiyan!" Le Mang called out through the door.
Within seconds, she responded, "What? Didn’t your clothes dry properly?"
Le Mang hesitated before replying, "I thought it was a ghost."
Lin Zhiyan burst into laughter. "Only a ghost would bother with you."
Outside, after her laughter faded, the faucet turned off, and she walked away.
Le Mang caught a glimpse of her shadow flitting past before silence reclaimed the space. His heart sank abruptly.
He had finally found the answer to his gloom.
He was… feeling sorry for her.
In an instant, Le Mang’s eyes widened slowly, like someone drenched and stunned by a downpour.
He changed quickly and rushed out of the shower.
Lin Zhiyan was curled up on the sofa, biting a pen as she studied a book. Hearing his footsteps, she looked up, puzzled. "What? Did you actually see a ghost?"
Le Mang didn’t answer, only nodding emphatically.
Then, after a beat, he muttered, "No, something came up. I’m leaving."
Lin Zhiyan waved. "Be careful on the road."
Le Mang nodded again vigorously before slamming the door shut. His hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, followed by the sound of a car starting. Lin Zhiyan listened to the commotion outside, her eyebrows nearly flying off her face in amusement.
Buddy, enjoy this tailor-made ambiguity while it lasts.
Soon enough, your mom will be throwing money at me.
And when that happens, I’ll take it.
Lin Zhiyan grinned so wide it nearly split her face in half. She leaned back on the sofa, staring at the peeling ceiling as if gazing into the face of Lady Esella herself.
There were too many things money couldn’t buy—freedom, love, noble character. Not because these things were inherently precious, but because those who possessed them weren’t auctioning them off. They were simply waiting for the right buyer.
And Le Mang, along with his mother Esella, were the perfect buyers.
With that thought, Lin Zhiyan climbed into bed, rolled over, and drifted into sweet slumber. Meanwhile, Le Mang drove through the rain in a daze, returning home soaked—as usual, he never bothered with umbrellas.
The servants whispered among themselves before promptly presenting an array of pajamas in various fabrics for his selection. The bathtub was filled to the perfect temperature, and the ornate wall lamps and chandeliers bathed the hallway in golden splendor.
Le Mang stared at his own home as if seeing it for the first time, his mind clouded with unease.
After freshening up, he checked his terminal and found several unread messages.
[Li Siheng: How did it go?]
[Li Siheng: Did she accept it?]
[Li Siheng: Even though we talked this afternoon, I need to say it again—I’m sorry. I was just afraid you’d look down on me. Even if you already know how useless I seem next to Ze Fei, I still didn’t want to appear worse in your eyes.]
Le Mang exhaled slowly, his gaze lowered.
That afternoon, Li Siheng had apologized and, as a gesture of sincerity, even offered advice on how to clear up the misunderstanding with Lin Zhiyan. No matter how one looked at it, his suggestion had been sound.
After a pause, Le Mang replied.
[Le Mang: She accepted it.]
[Le Mang: I still consider you a friend, but I’m genuinely upset. You practically engineered every misunderstanding I had about her. If grades mattered so much to you, you should’ve just told me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have understood. Since I convinced my parents to accept the collaboration plan, I’m prepared to face the consequences.]
Soon, Li Siheng responded.
[Li Siheng: Yeah… I’m sorry.]
[Li Siheng: How are your injuries?]
[Le Mang: The med-scanner fixed them ages ago. I’m used to it by now.]
After typing that, Le Mang shut off his terminal, unwilling to continue the conversation.
His mother, as a court etiquette instructor, was ruthlessly strict about decorum. As a free-spirited child who chafed under restraint, he had been caned countless times for breaches of protocol. He was used to it—but being beaten in front of Lin Zhiyan, even Li Siheng and Ai Wen, had left him humiliated and furious beyond words.
Le Mang turned off the lights and tried to sleep, but couldn’t resist pulling out the ointment tube from under his pillow.
He turned it over in his hands, unscrewed the cap, and sniffed it.
Cool and minty, just like her so-called two-in-one shower gel.
Pulling the covers over his head, Le Mang curled into a ball.
Outside, the night deepened, and the drizzle gradually ceased.
Dawn chased away the darkness, and sunlight peeked through.
Lin Zhiyan had no morning classes, so she slept in until nine.
She unpacked her bag, sorting her books into neat piles. But as she worked, she found a book purchase receipt tucked between the pages.
The list detailed each book’s origin, price, and delivery address. At the bottom, the bill was signed with three characters:
Li Siheng.
Beneath it was his contact information.
Lin Zhiyan: "…"
"What the hell, Li Siheng, what exactly are you trying to do?! Are you trying to stir up trouble and ruin me, or are you aiming for some dramatic affair? Can you just say it straight? Stop being so damn cryptic!"
Lin Zhiyan’s disgust for Li Siheng had reached its peak, but she still added him as a contact.
"Buzz—"
The terminal vibrated.
For a moment, both people in the parlor turned to look at him.
Jiang Yi leaned back on the sofa, his long legs crossed, his dark eyes sharp with scrutiny. Ze Fei sat beside him, his stunning features still wearing a smile, though the ice-gray eyes beneath his silver-white hair held no warmth.
Li Siheng paused for a few seconds before saying, "Forgot to mute it. My apologies."
"Please excuse him," Ze Fei sighed. "Siheng’s academic workload is heavy, so it’s no surprise he’s constantly worried about notifications from the school. You know how strict the United Military and Political Academy is with its students."
"I thought your Wealth Management Department had it easy—just studying inheritance, right?" Jiang Yi stood, his expression cold. "But whatever. It’s fine. I wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation anyway. I have no intention of collaborating with Solent."
"Whether or not you support our investment in the sub-chain’s development, I suggest you reconsider Solent’s—and the Li family’s—support for the royal faction," Ze Fei replied smoothly, rising to his feet. "We fully endorse the military’s separation from cabinet jurisdiction."
"Ze Fei, do you really think you’re that clever?" Jiang Yi arched a brow, his lips curling in mockery. "Even your Wealth Management Department is split into factions. What makes you think the military would side with you? Just because you brought along the son of the Minister of Education?"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "Asking me to help you lobby for private school expansion—what were you thinking? You’d have better luck kneeling and begging some politician to lower your inheritance taxes."
Ze Fei’s expression darkened, his ice-gray eyes narrowing.
"Don’t speak in absolutes," he said coolly.
"This isn’t the academy," Jiang Yi drawled, glancing at Li Siheng as if suddenly remembering something. "Actually, I’m heading to the school’s administrative office now. Need a ride, little brother with the heavy workload?"
Li Siheng remained silent.
Ze Fei’s face stiffened.
Jiang Yi smirked, satisfied, then turned and strode away, his military cloak billowing behind him.
Ze Fei watched him leave before closing his eyes briefly. Then he turned to Li Siheng.
They stood at the same height, but Li Siheng didn’t utter a word. Ze Fei lifted a hand, his fingers sheathed in white silk gloves, and suddenly seized Li Siheng’s hair. His gray eyes were devoid of emotion.
"Skulking around like a sewer rat, pulling petty stunts—do you really think I don’t see through your schemes?"
He yanked Li Siheng’s head back, shaking him slightly. "You’d better keep Le Mang wrapped around your finger. Make sure you secure that royal or cabinet internship by the end of the semester."
With that, he released him and walked away without another glance.
Li Siheng lifted his gaze, lips parting as if to speak—
Ze Fei paused, glancing back. "What, you have something to say?"
A flicker of defiance flashed in Li Siheng’s eyes, but in the end, he lowered his head.
"Luwixi is taking one of your classes," Ze Fei said flatly. "Network with him. Don’t make me repeat myself."
This time, he didn’t look back.
"Buzz—"
The terminal vibrated again in rapid succession.
[Li Siheng has accepted your friend request.]
[Li Siheng: I left my contact details on purpose.]
[Li Siheng: I wanted to tell you—I’ll help you and Le Mang.]
[Li Siheng: Consider this an apology for my earlier arrogance.]
[United Military and Political Academy Notification: Your dormitory assignment has been processed. All fees have been paid. Please report to the administrative office for registration.]
[Central District Residential System Notification: Ownership of your current residence (xxxxx) has been transferred. The new property owner is: Le Mang Cret Lanar. Under the principle of "sale does not terminate lease," you may continue residing there per the original rental agreement.]
Lin Zhiyan had just finished packing her books when the notifications hit. Her pupils dilated in shock.
Wait—was she supposed to be more stunned by Li Siheng’s message, the sudden dorm assignment, or the fact that Le Mang had just bought the place she was living in?
Before her brain could reboot, two more messages arrived.
[Le Mang: I’m awake now. I’ve made up my mind—you’re perfect for working under me.]
[Le Mang: So whatever you’ve received, consider it an advance on your salary. If you try to return it, I’ll just find more ways to make you work for me anyway!]
