The dorm was a standard four-person room, with beds up top and desks below.
Two of the beds held scattered odds and ends, one was pristine and empty, and the last was shrouded by a blackout bed curtain, hiding whatever lay inside.
Shen Leyuan opened Taobao and spotted the order record for that bed curtain. He set his suitcase by the desk. Just as he reached to lift the curtain, a short, pale Fatty pushed the door open.
Fatty was on the phone, grumbling, “So what if he’s back? Am I scared of him? I…”
Their eyes met, and Shen Leyuan offered a polite smile.
Fatty stiffened visibly, then forced an awkward grin. “You’re back? Good as long as you’re okay. I dropped by your place a few days ago—saw the red paint on the wall was gone. You paid off those debts?”
Shen Leyuan eyed Fatty thoughtfully, his smile faint.
The original host had made money from his company and brought friends and family in on “investments.” He’d jotted them all down in a little notebook and paid every cent back recently—but this fake-familiar Fatty didn’t seem to be on the list.
Had he not chipped in, or gotten his money back before things blew up?
“Not yet,” Shen Leyuan said, glancing at the designer labels on Fatty’s clothes. He drawled slowly as Fatty started to sweat, “You seem to be doing well. Lend me some?”
“You’re joking. I don’t have that kind of cash—this stuff’s all knockoffs.” Fatty hid his watch behind his back and changed the subject awkwardly. “Uncle Li said you’re tutoring and raking it in. You don’t need money.”
Shen Leyuan replied coolly, “Ran into a benefactor.”
“Yeah,” Fatty said enviously. “You’ve always had a knack for noble patrons. They just show up for you.”
As they chatted, two others burst in, horsing around. Spotting Shen Leyuan talking to Fatty, they paused, gave perfunctory smiles—one hopped up to scroll on his phone, the other donned headphones to game.
Not close to me, and on bad terms with Fatty.
With that conclusion, Shen Leyuan hauled his suitcase to the empty bed and told Fatty, “Take down my bed curtain.”
Fatty looked embarrassed. “Didn’t you say I could have it if I wanted?”
Shen Leyuan replied, “That was then, this is now. Back then—”
Under Fatty’s tense gaze, he smiled. “Back then, I didn’t plan on coming back.”
Fatty let out a relieved breath and laughed along. “I’ve already used it and gotten it dirty. How about I buy you a new one? There’s a bedding shop nearby.”
Shen Leyuan said, “Fine. Go now.”
Fatty: “Huh?”
Shen Leyuan ordered righteously, “Get the bedding set and sheets too while you’re at it. I need it ready tonight.”
After Fatty left, Glasses Guy took off his headphones, swiveled his chair halfway, and chatted with Shen Leyuan. “I figured you’d say no need for him to buy it, then go to the shop yourself.”
“Once bitten, twice shy,” Shen Leyuan smiled. “Thanks for the heads-up before.”
Glasses Guy scratched his cheek sheepishly. “I didn’t say much. Just couldn’t stand him treating people like ATMs and bragging behind their backs. What a jerk!”
Shen Leyuan asked, “He brags to you guys a lot?”
“Yeah,” Glasses Guy griped. “He only acts nice around you. With us…”
“Put my books on the desk.” The phone guy suddenly spoke up.
Shen Leyuan raised a brow but dropped it, turning to message Director Hao about the detail instead.
Director Hao, knowing he’d “lost his memory,” filled him in on recent findings: [Your rival family’s been stealing your company’s secrets, tanking profits bit by bit. The final blow was them snagging your resources at rock-bottom prices.]
[Ex-employees say you called the cops back then, but it was no use. The big bosses blamed you for hurting the company’s rep and vouched that it was legit business with the rivals.]
[Now those bosses are all invested in the rival company.]
Shen Leyuan sat in his chair and laughed in disbelief.
The original host had been screwed over by so-called friends, down to his marrow. What grudge could justify playing him like this?
Director Hao’s next messages answered his unspoken question.
[That company’s hit a quality scandal lately—profits plummeting, veteran staff jumping ship. Word is the big bosses are fighting and want to rehire the old little boss.]
Little boss meaning the original host.
His ties with those friends started in childhood with homework-for-cash gigs, spanning years from client to boss to partner through ups and downs—until profit shattered it all.
[Want me to send someone over?] Director Hao asked.
Shen Leyuan thought it over: [Yeah. Have him wear the uniform and come straight to the dorm looking for me.]
As they hashed out details, Fatty burst in, drenched in sweat.
He’d bought a bamboo mat, a thin summer quilt, and a flimsy pillow. After setting them on the bed, he even spread them out meticulously. Shen Leyuan watched coldly, then asked, “Where’s the bedding set and sheets I told you to get?”
Fatty hesitated. “We don’t need ’em now, right?”
Shen Leyuan: “I’m cold.”
Glasses Guy snorted a laugh and trash-talked his teammates loudly: “Look at that pig on the other side—stealing farm and getting soloed by the support. Total trash!”
Fatty glared. “What the hell do you mean by that?!”
Glasses Guy pretended not to hear, yapping on: “Pig’s back, bros! Who wants pork? Quick, quick—hook that trotter, don’t let it run!”
Smack!
Before Fatty could reach Glasses Guy, the bamboo mat slammed down by his feet.
Shen Leyuan said coldly, “Quality’s crap. Go exchange it. And get the bedding and sheets too—don’t try skimping on me with this junk!”
“Brother Yuan…” Fatty grew more uneasy, asking cautiously, “You mad at me?”
Shen Leyuan gave him a meaningful look. “I treated you well before.”
He said no more, called someone to deliver bedding, and had Fatty dismantle the old curtain—”It bugs my eyes.”
Fatty didn’t dare utter a peep.
That afternoon, cops showed up for business. During the dorm check, they eyed Fatty a few times, mentioned pulling footage later, and glanced at him again on the way out—ready to question him, but Shen Leyuan waved them off.
His excuse: “We’ll ask together next time.”
Next time? Together?
Fatty’s vision blackened. On the phone, his earlier bravado—”So what if he’s back?”—vanished. Under police surveillance, he begged and pleaded, but they brushed him off. His tone turned frantic, from pleading to threats.
“Don’t think I’ve got nothing! If you abandon me, I’ll take the evidence to the station and turn myself in!”
Late that night, Fatty tossed and turned, sleepless.
Jail meant a million in compensation—but was it worth it?
He was a college student, the family’s pride—top grades, real talent. He’d fleeced even Shen Leyuan; post-grad, ten million a year would be a breeze.
A measly million…
But he didn’t have a million now—even the 200k from last time was nearly gone.
In the unnoticed darkness, a small shadow crept forward, slipping past the bed barriers to Fatty’s leg.
Such pale, greasy little leg… disgusting…
But!
The Little Dog’s eyes flashed cold. With strength greater than for suicide, it lunged and bit down hard.
“Awoooo!!!”
The pig-slaughter scream jolted the dorm awake. Fatty shone his phone light on his leg and stared in horror at the bloody tooth mark. “What the hell? Something in here bit me!”
Shen Leyuan woke, groggily fishing the pup from his blankets.
That day, he’d added Glasses Guy and Silent Guy on WeChat, explaining the Little Dog didn’t bite and would nip his finger to signal peeing. The roommates okayed keeping it in the dorm temporarily and tipped him on dodging the dorm auntie and Fatty.
Now Glasses Guy messaged the group: [@Shen, your dog bit someone?]
Shen Leyuan felt mortified.
Before he could reply, another message: [Thumbs up][Thumbs up][Thumbs up]]
Shen Leyuan replied sheepishly: [Shy.jpg]
Nanny Love Me Again: [Keep it up.jpg]
Nanny Love Me Again: [Go get ’em.jpg]
Milkmaid: [Sleep]
Nanny Love Me Again: [This is Sparta.jpg]
Nanny Love Me Again: [Tuck under my little blanket.jpg]
Amid Fatty’s agitated thrashing, Shen Leyuan cracked up at the phone clowns.
Deep night, Fatty—fearing for his life—got up to see a doctor.
With the nuisance gone, Glasses Guy cheered to game but got shoved back by Silent Guy. Shen Leyuan pulled the Little Dog from his blankets for cuddles and treats.
Snuggle time. They love it.
The Little Dog whined under kisses, paws weakly pushing back as always—its mind replaying the “battle,” regretting no pre-bite tooth-grinding.
Then inwardly griping: Was Shen some saint before?
Yeah—in his eyes, even the Little Lunatic was a good boy.
The more it thought, the madder. It slobbered Shen Leyuan’s hand with a bite, only to get kissed worse, dazed into the blankets.
“Sleep,” the voice above said.
He tucked it against his chest, cradling it preciously in the crook of his arm.
The Little Dog’s paw rested lightly on his chest. The thin warmth seeped through the sleep shirt, reminding it of skin-to-skin softness, so warm and…
Huo Tingfeng slapped himself—Pa!
Heaven’s warning not enough? You’ll die horny, damn it!
Next day, the dog and Fatty both looked wrecked—one nightmare-plagued, the other sleepless, convinced it was a snake bite. But the doc said shots cost hundreds—no need.
So they think I’m broke, can’t pay?
Hundreds—that’s nothing!
Fatty obsessed over the million, awaiting cops—but when questioned, he clammed up in terror, dreading jail ruining his ten-million dream.
In under a week, Fatty dropped a full size.
The “broken” cameras got fixed; cops’ questions sharpened. Lawyers said minimum ten years.
Ten years, one million—ten grand a year.
Fatty stared at Shen Leyuan’s carefree vibe—luxury rides, no loans, family pressure to emulate him—and his eyes turned vicious.
Jail was inevitable. Better than ten years for a million…
Fish on the hook.
Shen Leyuan got the message, entrusted the lately quiet pup to roommates, and headed to a “blind-spot” corner, pretending to call the cops.
In his periphery, a hefty shadow trailed sneakily to the lake.
Dense greenery hid it—perfect for shoving someone in. He’d dodged cams on purpose, hoping Fatty wouldn’t waste it with a fight.
Otherwise, it’d be hard not to hit back.
Luckily, Fatty’s brain was offline—hookless fish. Hearing “I’ll get a top lawyer, make him rot in prison” set him off. He crept closer.
Shen Leyuan faked panic; inwardly cheered Fatty on.
Didn’t expect it this smooth!
Fatty leaped into crime. Shen Leyuan braced to “fall.”
But a split-second before the push, an invisible force gripped his wrist. He crashed into a broad chest.
This feel—damn…
Pecs, so soft! Shen Leyuan thought blankly.
