The atmosphere grew a touch awkward.
War was on the verge of breaking out.
Shen Ju pursed his lips tight, face all scrunched up as he whipped his head around, scanning the group.
The guys across from him had their faces set just as stiffly.
A little guilty, even.
“We…?”
“Isn’t the class monitor’s seat right here?”
“Huh?”
Shen Ju glanced down, double-checked, and muttered under his breath, “Yeah, this should be it.”
He hadn’t waited for Tang Yuexin to catch up—he’d been in a rush to leave.
Otherwise…
“Shen Ju, why are you still in the classroom?”
“Perfect timing. Let’s head out together, then.”
Guan Mulin had come over from the next class and spotted Shen Ju right away.
Compared to Shen Ju’s delicate, exquisite prettiness, Guan Mulin’s features were warmer, more refined and elegant—like a perfectly balanced ink wash painting that lingered in the mind long after.
Though they were about the same height, the two standing side by side couldn’t have been more different in vibe.
After those two lines, Guan Mulin looked at Shen Ju, a smile tugging at his lips.
Shen Ju had transferred in just a few days ago, and in all that time, Guan Mulin hadn’t managed to catch him even once.
“Looks like we can ride back together today.”
As the words landed, the boy across from him pursed his lips again and grumbled softly, “Who said I wanna ride back with you.”
“You’re here to watch the drama too, aren’t you, Guan Mulin? ‘Cause I bombed the exam.”
“Too?”
Guan Mulin paused. “Who’s else come to watch your drama?”
“See? I knew it!”
The boy turned unreasonably stubborn. “You are here to watch my drama!”
As he spoke, his face flushed red.
It stood out starkly against his fair skin—like he was pissed.
But Shen Ju blinked, his gaze darting everywhere, fingers fidgeting with the drawstring buckle at the bottom until the fuzz was coming off.
Before Guan Mulin could respond, the two guys who’d been silently standing by him finally couldn’t hold back:
“Guan Shen Ju, be reasonable. You know damn well Mulin’s the class monitor—he always sticks around a few extra minutes after school, right?”
The one on Guan Mulin’s left was Pei Haochuan—tall and broad-shouldered, with long legs, sharp and handsome features, short hair that highlighted his superior bone structure and sleek jawline. He had a bit of a roguish air, arms crossed as he tsked and kept going. “You’re the one who bolts right after the bell every day, while your family sends two cars to pick you up.”
“Guan Shen Ju, you sure put on airs.”
The one on Guan Mulin’s right was Ke Sheng, good-looking in his own right. He nodded along. “Exactly. You clearly lingered late yourself today—why pin it on Mulin?”
“Wait, you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?”
Ke Sheng narrowed his eyes. “Hang back late just to frame Mulin as coming to gloat over you…”
Guan Mulin’s brow furrowed—he was about to speak up.
“Um, sorry to interrupt.”
Tang Yuexin had been waiting patiently on the sidelines but finally stepped forward to cut them off. “Shen Ju didn’t linger late. He came back to help me move a desk.”
As she spoke, she pointed inside the classroom at the newly relocated desk.
“Right there.”
“I was gonna thank Shen Ju, but I saw you guys talking to him, so I hung back.”
Tang Yuexin shot Ke Sheng an exasperated look, then glanced at Pei Haochuan on Guan Mulin’s left. “If you don’t believe me, ask the other kids in our class.”
The two: “…”
Tang Yuexin’s deskmate raised her hand. “I can vouch for it.”
Her tone brimmed with righteous indignation.
After all, Shen Ju had just helped her and Tang Yuexin, and now here they were, jumping to conclusions.
Tch—who’s framing who here?
And that crumpled little face of Shen Ju’s? Utterly pitiful, drawing sympathy without even trying.
With that thought, the deskmate couldn’t help glaring at Ke Sheng and muttering under her breath, “Seriously—can’t you get the facts straight before opening your mouth next time?”
“…”
Ke Sheng’s face flushed with embarrassment as he rubbed his nose.
Pei Haochuan, arms still crossed: “Still true that you always need two cars to head home.”
Guan Mulin swatted Pei Haochuan. “Enough. Can’t exactly make Shen Ju wait for me every time.”
“Both of you, shut it.”
Guan Mulin felt a bit helpless, his emotions tangled.
He knew his friends meant well—Pei Haochuan and Ke Sheng were looking out for him, given his awkward position. They worried he’d get the short end of the stick.
And Shen Ju’s prickly attitude toward him? That was real enough.
Guan Mulin figured Shen Ju probably hated and rejected him—and who could blame him? He’d held Shen Ju’s identity for over a decade. No one could stay unaffected, grudge-free.
Plus, after bringing Shen Ju back into the fold, he’d stayed on at the Guan Family… If anyone’s position was more awkward, it was probably Shen Ju’s.
But it wasn’t like he could just leave—he had nowhere else to go.
The Guan Family had raised him this long; you couldn’t just cut ties on a whim. Unrealistic.
So he and Shen Ju were destined to share the same space.
Guan Mulin believed it was on him to take the initiative.
Even if Shen Ju hated and rejected him.
“Let’s go. Time to head home.”
Guan Mulin smiled at Shen Ju. “The sooner the better—gotta go back to the old estate tomorrow.”
The place they returned to now was Yujinfu—a villa bought to make school runs easier to Qichen International High School. Prime location, one of the crown penthouses. Save for the identical one next door, it boasted unobstructed views all around, plus an on-site park and top-notch amenities. Pricey, sure, but worth every penny—properties like these didn’t come up often.
As their car pulled up to the gates, another approached from the opposite direction—the neighbor, by the looks of it.
“Hey, that car—isn’t that the Guan Family’s?”
Pei Yan glanced over and hummed in affirmation.
Gao Chuanbai leaned in closer. “The Guan Family drama blew up not long ago… You seen that kid they just took back? What’s he like?”
Pei Yan arched a brow, thinking of the two cars pulling in night after night these days. He gave a noncommittal shrug.
But out loud: “Nah, haven’t met him.”
Gao Chuanbai got it—no interest.
Still, his gossip itch wasn’t scratched. “You live right next door—zero contact with the kid?”
The car pulled to a stop. Pei Yan eyed Gao Chuanbai. “If you’re that curious, why not pop over and say hi?”
“Eh, pass.”
Gao Chuanbai juggled a stack of files, face falling. “Got a pile of work to hash out. If you didn’t hate OT at the office, I wouldn’t have to trail you home.”
“Got a dog to feed at home.”
“Your pup that damn picky? Can’t just get an auto-feeder?”
Gao Chuanbai’s tone turned aggrieved. “Hell, you even come back midday to feed it—folks’d think you were raising a mewling infant!”
“Close enough.”
Pei Yan hopped out and headed inside, tossing back, “Won’t eat from the auto-machine.”
“It can tell?!”
“Smarter than you.”
“…”
Meanwhile.
As Shen Ju climbed out of the car, a dog’s bark rang out.
He couldn’t help peering toward the neighbor’s wall, but saw nothing. A touch disappointed—what breed, he wondered.
He followed Guan Mulin into the villa. Qin Soxi sat in the living room, screen-mirroring a short drama.
“Su Nian! I’m telling you right now—Vivi’s been by my side since she was little. You think I don’t know her? So Vivi likes this mermaid-pearl gown—can’t you just yield it to her?! It’s one dress! You went through hell out there, fine—but you can’t come back and shove Vivi out of her own place!”
“Mom, don’t blame Sis. It was my fault. I’ll let her have the gown—I’m fine with it.”
“Lin Wei, drop the act! You snatched the gown I picked first, and now you’re in the right?”
Inner monologue: Last life, I yielded every time, stepped back every time—what’d I get? Nothing but worse bullying and humiliation! This life, reborn, what’s mine stays mine—no inch yielded! What’s not mine, I’ll snatch anyway! These people won’t get a single scrap of cheap satisfaction from me again!
Classic real vs. fake heiress plot.
Shen Ju: “…”
Guan Mulin: “…”
Guan Mulin cleared his throat lightly. “Mom…”
Qin Soxi jumped, whipped around, and spotted the boys. Embarrassment flickered across her face before she slammed the screen-mirror shut at lightspeed.
“Just… learning lessons. Taking notes.”
She swore it was true.
But damn, the drama was addictive—she couldn’t quit. Next thing she knew, the boys were home from school.
Qin Soxi pivoted smoothly. “Oh, right—saw in the parent group the pre-holiday exam scores dropped. So you can review mistakes over break…”
Guan Mulin shot her a loaded look.
“Uh, your scores…”
Shen Ju’s face fell. He yanked the straps of his little backpack and bolted upstairs head-down. “Heading to my room!”
“…”
Qin Soxi eyed Guan Mulin and whispered, “Bombed it?”
Guan Mulin sighed. “Mom, next time you’re binging shorts, check your phone too.”
“I did!”
“Check properly.”
“…”
Qin Soxi pulled out her phone, tapped the group-shared scoresheet—and nearly blacked out. “Okay, I jinxed it… But how many mistakes did this kid even make?”
“He must hate having me as a mom.”
Qin Soxi tossed her phone and flopped onto the sofa.
Guan Mulin held back… then couldn’t. “You binge any ancient-era shorts today too?”
“Yeah! How’d you know, son?”
“…”
Yeah, figured as much.
Meanwhile, back in his room, Shen Ju dumped his bag and flopped onto the bed.
He buzzed with excitement: Brother 996, how was my role-playing today? Bet my Task Energy Bar shot up, right?!
