He slowly lifted the lid of the box, his voice filled with a mysterious allure, “A mythical weapon… an alchemic blade combination!”
A sharp, dark golden glow flowed along the crack as the box opened. Lu Mingfei was stunned, suddenly feeling that the item inside the box was alive; he could hear a familiar breathing sound coming from it.
The lid opened—an alchemic blade? The Seven Deadly Sins! It was like reuniting with an old friend.
Lu Mingfei opened his bleary eyes. The room was silent. He turned his head to the side—Chu Zihang’s side of the bed was perfectly tidy, without a single crease, and Xia Mi’s blanket was neatly folded as if it had never been used.
“No loyalty,” he muttered.
Had those two gone out early in the morning without even saying anything to him? He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, suddenly thinking that Xia Mi might be interested in Chu Zihang. To be honest, a new student beauty and the always single, admired-by-many stoic senior made a good match. They even shared a common language in academics—in short, neither of them spoke like regular people. But if they were going out, they could’ve taken him too. Though he was often the third wheel, he was very considerate—a lightbulb that didn’t shine randomly, warmly illuminating the couple beside him.
It was so quiet, as if… he were the only one left in the world.
Lu Mingfei suddenly felt a strange sensation, unsure of whether he was still dreaming or fully awake. On a morning like this, waking up alone in an unfamiliar place was like being in a dream.
He had always been someone with a weak presence, but he had never felt so unsettled before. Lying on a soft bed felt like he was floating in mid-air. Was Auntie really angry this time? Would he return to his uncle’s house next summer? If he went back, he’d have to deal with Auntie’s disapproving looks. But where could he go if he didn’t? Stay in the empty campus? Everyone else would go home for the summer, and he’d be the only one left. Without Chu Zihang, Caesar, Nono, Xia Mi, or Finger, he truly was alone. Was this what “Blood Sorrow” meant? Or perhaps it was the “Loneliness” that the devil version of Lu Mingze spoke of?
Thinking of Lu Mingze, he paused, understanding something.
“Breakfast in bed!” He clapped his hands with vigor.
The door opened, and Lu Mingze entered, pushing a gleaming silver serving cart. He wasn’t much taller than the cart but wore a serious expression in a white chef’s uniform and a French chef’s tall hat.
“I just woke up, feeling lazy. I want to eat in bed, so bring it over,” Lu Mingfei commanded, assuming an air of superiority, lounging like a French noblewoman just waking from a spring nap.
“Caviar with freshly baked whole-wheat toast, Danish pastries with raisins, lemon-glazed chicken breast, Munich roast white sausage,” Lu Mingze said, like a proper butler—rigid yet diligent. “What would you like to drink? Coffee, milk with cereal, or kiwi juice?”
“Is that it? I love fried dough sticks and tofu pudding!”
“No problem.” Lu Mingze lifted the silver lid to reveal a set of white porcelain Chinese dishes: four perfectly fried dough sticks, two bowls of silky tofu pudding, and a few side dishes—salted duck eggs, Jinhua ham, Hangzhou vegetarian chicken, and Wang Zhihe’s red oil fermented bean curd.
As for the caviar, pastries, chicken breast, and sausage he mentioned earlier, there were none.
“You messing with me? Just four dough sticks and two bowls of tofu pudding, and you’re trying to pass yourself off as a French chef?” Lu Mingfei grumbled, but he was secretly pleased. Once back at Cassell College, all he’d have was German food—endless sausages, sauerkraut, and pork knuckles.
“Our customer service is top-notch. It’s a magic breakfast. If you want a French breakfast, that’s what you’ll get when you lift the lid.” Lu Mingze sat by the bed. “You only have two dough sticks and one bowl of tofu pudding—the other half is mine.”
“You think I’m stupid? What if you drugged it?” Lu Mingfei eyed him warily.
“No way! You’re the customer, and the customer is king. We devils always treat our customers well; we’re all just businessmen! Hard work makes you rich!” Lu Mingze took a sip of tofu pudding, blowing on it first. “Feel better now?”
“Feel better, my foot! You always have tricks up your sleeve. I can’t compete with you, I admit it!” Lu Mingfei couldn’t resist the smell of the dough sticks any longer, grabbing one and taking a bite. It was fantastic—crispy, with an oily fragrance. Even if it were a toad in reality, he’d accept it.
“Get to the point. I didn’t summon you this time, so it’s not on the record.” Lu Mingfei mumbled, taking a big scoop of tofu pudding. A hint of spiciness came through—tasting just like the breakfast shop near his uncle’s house.
This kind of tofu pudding was enough reason to keep muddling through in this lonely world!
“Of course, as agreed when we made our contract.” Lu Mingze seemed generous. “There’s something happening today, so I came to inform you, just in case you mess up.”
“Something happening?” Lu Mingfei frowned, taking a bite of the vegetarian chicken.
“You’ll need money for an important event coming up, but I know you’re broke, so I’m prepared to lend you some.”
“No thanks!” Lu Mingfei refused outright.
“No thanks?” Lu Mingze looked surprised.
“Borrowing money from you? That means I have to beg you, right? And if I beg, I’ll have to exchange my life—no way! I have no use for money. If I get robbed, I might as well summon you to beat them all up—also costing only a quarter of my life.”
“It’s a complimentary gift for valued customers.”
“Being so generous, you?” Lu Mingfei squinted at Lu Mingze suspiciously.
“Me.” Lu Mingze smiled. At this moment, his innocent smile was like the greenery at dawn—facing that smile, even knowing he was full of mischief, it was impossible to hate him.
“In this world, only I am always with you because… you are my brother.” He even reached out, gently touching Lu Mingfei’s forehead.