After walking quite a distance, Liu Miaomiao suddenly turned her head and asked, “Can you see if there’s a pimple on my face?” Her classmates leaned in and checked, saying there wasn’t. Liu Miaomiao said, “That’s good, it felt a bit itchy,” quietly taking back the glance she had thrown behind her.
Through the heavy rain, Chu Zihang still stood there. Liu Miaomiao always thought he liked rainy days—every time it rained, he looked so absorbed, making people want to brush away his wet bangs and see his eyes.
Chu Zihang embodied the meaning of two words: “cool and amazing.”
Cool enough that even someone as powerful as Lu Mingfei, a shooting star in the night sky, had to bow down to Chu Zihang’s well-fitting jeans. The real number one on the “Must Be Eliminated List” had always been Chu Zihang.
To Liu Miaomiao and many other girls at Shilan Middle School, Chu Zihang had taught them one thing: “unrequited love.” But it seemed that Chu Zihang never realized his prowess in this area. There were many misunderstandings about him—like the fact that he was simply expressionless, yet many thought he was pretending to be cool. Or that he didn’t like rainy days at all, but rather, he was lost in thought, maybe thinking that the Maybach might come to pick him up again.
Chu Zihang was surrounded by countless admirers, but he was as oblivious as those stone statues on Easter Island gazing at the sea. The affection that landed on him was simply wasted.
Why did he deserve to be eliminated? Well, if most boys in Shilan Middle School found that there was already a shadow of this guy in their girlfriend’s heart, not wanting to get rid of him would be the strange thing!
“Thanks a lot, senior. Really appreciate it,” Lu Mingfei said, grateful for Chu Zihang’s sudden appearance. “I’ll pay you back when we get back.”
“Small matter, today you’re the boss; you call the shots.” Chu Zihang said casually.
Lu Mingfei was stunned. This performance was getting more and more realistic. Who was he to deserve this? It would be an honor just to polish the president’s shoes, and he dared to call himself the boss? But Chu Zihang looked as if “this is the truth and there’s no need to discuss it,” so Lu Mingfei could only shut up.
Exclamations of amazement came from the crowd. They had known that “Boss Lu” was amazing, but they didn’t realize how low-key he was—clearly capable of much more but only revealing a fraction of his ability. If Chu Zihang had to call him “boss,” then “Boss Lu” must have achieved great success in America over the past year. It was rare that he humbled himself to have pizza with old classmates. Not having money on him was understandable too—normally the underlings would pay, why would the boss need to personally handle the bill?
“The car’s waiting outside.” Chu Zihang opened the door and gestured, “Please.”
Chu Zihang’s face was icy, and it made Lu Mingfei unsure of the situation. The treatment felt somewhere between a bodyguard escorting a boss and the CIA taking a cornered terrorist into custody. He realized that he had no option to “decline” and walked out with his head down.
Chu Zihang followed closely, their footsteps echoing in the hallway. Lu Mingfei figured the others were watching him, their eyes filled with envy and jealousy, but he didn’t feel proud at all.
What a mess, involving himself in something that wasn’t his business. And it was one thing to stand up, but not having the credit card work was embarrassing too. Though the situation was resolved thanks to the president, what did this even mean? Every bit of face that Lu Mingfei had ever gained was always thanks to his seniors—he never had a moment where he stood up, made his presence felt, and did something impressive on his own. He was like a kid getting beaten up in a fight, snot all over his face, and then having to call his brother for backup. People might fear you a bit, but they would never respect you, because even though you were backed by a fierce, expressionless brother and a glamorous sister with a slim waist and long legs, you were still just a kid with snot all over his face.
You’re incompetent, you’re useless.
Chu Zihang opened the door of the Panamera, revealing the pure white leather racing-style seat, welcoming an esteemed guest.
Lu Mingfei suddenly stopped, turned around, and ran back!
Everyone standing at the door of the private room, engaged in conversation, was so startled they stepped back, making way for him. Lu Mingfei returned, charging back like he was sprinting a hundred meters, full of rage.
He went up to Chen Wenwen, reached out his hand… and grabbed the toilet seat leaning against the side of the chair… and quickly ran out the door.
Chen Wenwen said nothing, simply reaching up to gently smooth her bangs, her hair long and fine.
“The headquarters assigned us a task. You’re the agent, and I’m here to assist you, so today you are the boss—it’s not a joke.” Chu Zihang handed an iPad to Lu Mingfei, skillfully operating the steering wheel with one hand as the Panamera merged into the busy traffic.
Lu Mingfei could hardly believe his ears—an assignment where he would lead? In what kind of task would he excel enough for Chu Zihang to assist him? Unless they were teaming up to crash a comedy show at the DeYun Society, with him as the comic and Chu Zihang as the straight man…
However, on the iPad was a control interface developed by Cassell College itself, directly connected to Norma, and his name was clearly listed under “Agent.” After reading the task details, Lu Mingfei felt as if he had fallen into a fog—it seemed like an investigation task? But “field investigation” was a third-year elective, and he was a complete novice in this field… apart from watching Detective Conan movies.
The cold air from the air conditioner made goosebumps rise on his arms. Lu Mingfei glanced nervously at Chu Zihang, but that cold, hard profile showed no emotion, as if he had no intention of explaining anything to this task leader.
He shrank back into the seat, staring blankly out the window. He was in a bad mood—when Chen Wenwen brushed her hair aside, he got a good look at that awful face. So ugly. Chen Wenwen had never looked that ugly before, with tears sticking to her pale cheeks, her eyes swollen like little goldfish… Where was the demeanor of his dream girl? Back then, she sat at the corner of a bench in a white cotton dress, reading Duras’s “The Lover,” with an aura of a pure fairy, as if even sunlight and dust would be repelled… Turns out every fairy eventually falls in love with a fool and knits sweaters for them, love-struck and resentful, and from then on, the fairy’s life becomes a downhill slope. At this point, a toad like Lu Mingfei who had never gotten the swan should have been clapping and cheering, but for some reason, he suddenly felt a twitch in his heart and became a bit agitated.
“I listened for two minutes outside the private room.”
Lu Mingfei almost jumped—Chu Zihang spoke without warning, and his flat tone was as menacing as if he were saying, “I know what you did last summer.”