Chapter 80 The Real Jiang Ruotang

Chapter 80 The Real Jiang Ruotang

Jiang Ruotang realized something and immediately called Lu Guifan.

"Hello?"

Lu Guifan's voice came through, carrying the unshakable composure of a master calmly sitting in a fishing pavilion, making Jiang Ruotang seem almost youthfully naive in comparison.

"So... I have something to ask you..."

"If you're asking about that reporter, he’s from my parents' hometown."

Jiang Ruotang paused. "So it really was you who told Jian Sha to climb onto the windowsill?"

"Not to that extent. I only told Jian Sha that she needed to create emotional intensity—to make the reporter and the public sympathize with her. But I didn’t expect her to take it so far."

Lu Guifan’s tone was composed, yet Jiang Ruotang felt the urge to strangle him through the phone.

"I thought you were the type to insist on lawsuits, taking the straight and narrow."

"Really? I told you before—I’m not a good person."

Jiang Ruotang chuckled. "If being bad solves the problem, then keep being bad."

After all, Lu Guifan’s timing in bringing in the reporter was impeccable. Jiang Ruotang had originally planned to arrange a rehearsed interview for Jian Sha, but a formal, scripted approach could never match the impact of this spontaneous media frenzy.

Once again, Jiang Ruotang was struck by how Lu Guifan was a top-tier strategist—from having Zhao Yunshu persuade Jian Sha’s parents to orchestrating the media frenzy. Every step had been meticulously planned.

Jiang Ruotang thought to himself, *Because we changed her parents’ stance, we pulled out the thorn that could have hurt Jian Sha the most. No matter the outcome of the copyright case, she should be able to face her college entrance exams without this hanging over her now.*

Meanwhile, Zhang Chun’s assistant, having run into a brick wall at the Jian household, slunk back to the studio. When he relayed the family’s stance to Zhang Chun, the latter was stunned—how could a high school girl be such a tough cookie?

With the situation spiraling out of control, Zhang Chun had no choice but to immediately call Lin Chengdong.

The investors had already set a tight schedule for the project, and marketing materials had been released to attract funding. If the media latched onto this copyright dispute, the film’s reputation would be ruined.

The moment Lin Chengdong heard the news, fury shot straight to his crown. Right there in the company elevator, he exploded.

"Didn’t you promise there’d be no copyright issues? What the hell is this now? Just throw money at it! If fifty thousand won’t work, offer a hundred! If a hundred isn’t enough, make it two! You were quick to take advantage of others, but now you’re suddenly stingy? Ten thousand? Are you treating someone like a beggar? If she wants credit, give it to her! The project’s already greenlit, and now you’re telling me it’s turned into a criminal case?"

"It’s Bai Yingchuan! He set me up! He called me and recorded the conversation! The original author is his classmate—he’s helping her screw me over! And it’s just a high schooler—isn’t ten thousand enough? Bai Yingchuan must’ve egged her on, making her greedy!"

Zhang Chun could only deflect Lin Chengdong’s rage by pinning everything on Bai Yingchuan.

"What? Bai Yingchuan?"

Furious, Lin Chengdong stormed straight to Bai Yue’s house, ringing the doorbell like a death warrant.

The moment Bai Yue opened the door, Lin Chengdong grabbed her arm with such force that she couldn’t resist, stumbling and nearly smashing her head against the coffee table as she collapsed onto the sofa, shaking uncontrollably.

The veins bulging at Lin Chengdong’s temples and his wide, furious eyes made her wonder if he was about to strangle her bare-handed.

"What... what’s wrong with you?"

"*Me*? I’m not the one who’s sick—your son Bai Yingchuan is the real problem! He’s conspiring with his classmate to sabotage Zhang Chun and derail this entire film! Do you have any idea how furious the investors will be? With a snap of their fingers, they could ruin you! Bai Yue, has your beauty faded along with your brain?"

Bai Yue could tolerate criticism of her acting, but never her looks—being called "past her prime" was unforgivable. And "lost your marbles"? That was beyond insulting.

She straightened up and snapped back, "*My* brain’s expired? I’ve been against Yingchuan taking this project from the start—why do you think that is? An eighteen-year-old boy has his own mind; no one can force him. He doesn’t even care about me, his own mother—you think he gives a damn about your so-called investors? What connection do they have with him? He’s backed by *Little Sweet Fruit* now, his star is rising fast—he doesn’t need anyone’s favors! Right now, his focus is on his exams. *You’re* the one who keeps harassing him, making him miserable, making him feel controlled! If you’re so powerful, why don’t you just buy out *Little Sweet Fruit*? Then he’d have to listen to you!"

Dumbstruck by Bai Yue’s outburst, Lin Chengdong paced in circles before jabbing a finger at her. "You *will* deal with your son! Make sure his classmate accepts Zhang Chun’s terms and settles this copyright mess! If he doesn’t, you’re *both* finished!"

With that, he stormed out.

Bai Yue stood frozen, the slam of the door echoing through the empty house. It took her several seconds before she exhaled shakily and slumped onto the sofa.

But Bai Yue’s words had given Lin Chengdong an idea—*Little Sweet Fruit* was at its peak right now. If the copyright issue couldn’t be resolved, they’d have to rewrite the script and delay the project. But if *Little Sweet Fruit* invested, it might appease the other investors.

Lin Chengdong immediately put his persuasion skills to work, asking a friend to probe Gao Cheng. To his shock, he was told Gao Cheng wasn’t even in Sheng City and wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

"What? Out scouting projects? When’s he coming back?"

"How should I know? But given how you’ve treated Gao Cheng in the past—tripping him up at every turn—and now you want to collaborate? Since when does life hand you such favors—former industry rivals suddenly making peace and throwing money at you?"

Speechless, Lin Chengdong could only watch helplessly as the scandal continued to trend on Big Eyed Boy, his headache worsening by the minute.

As for Gao Cheng, he had left early that morning for Shenzhou, the hub of China’s animation industry. He believed *Little Sweet Fruit* couldn’t rely solely on imports—they needed original content or adapted IPs to establish their own brand.

Zheng Huasheng had joined him to assess costs and learn more about the animation industry. Naturally, Lu Guifan’s father came along to assist Zheng Huasheng, whose mobility was limited—though this time, he wasn’t the driver.

For Lu’s father, Shenzhou was a revelation—a thriving metropolis in the southeast, where cutting-edge tech startups flourished. The top three animation studios in the country were all based here.

Gazing at the gleaming skyscrapers, Lu’s father felt like his horizons were broadened.

Meanwhile, Lawyer Hong was busy with Jian Sha’s case, Professor Yang had returned to his overseas university, and with both parents absent, Lu’s mother had taken charge of the boys’ daily needs.

Since Lu Guifan’s home was empty and quiet anyway, Jiang Ruotang seized the chance to drag him to his own place.

During an afternoon break, Jiang Ruotang sprawled across his desk, deliberately resting his left arm on Lu Guifan’s half-read English academic journal—a groundbreaking publication sent by Professor Yang, now Lu Guifan’s latest obsession. Feeling neglected, Jiang Ruotang sighed dramatically.

"Alas, the new book laughs while the old friend mourns."

Lu Guifan glanced at him, barely suppressing a smirk—Jiang Ruotang had his pride, after all.

"I can’t speak for the book, but isn’t it your turn to erase the board this period?"

"Huh? Why didn’t you remind me sooner?"

Jiang Ruotang dashed to the front, erasing the board with lightning speed.

When he turned around, Jian Sha stood below the podium, staring at him in surprise. "Thanks, Ruo Tang..."

Jiang Ruotang: "Huh?"

So *she* had been assigned to erase the board?

*Damn it, Lu Guifan—since when did you become such an accomplished deceiver?* Jiang Ruotang thought with a stage whisper.

Still, Jiang Ruotang flashed a grin. "The chemistry teacher writes too high. Rather than wait for Her Majesty’s summons, this humble subject took the liberty of serving."

Jian Sha laughed—a sound she hadn’t made in a long time—and patted his shoulder. "With such initiative, you'll be knighted in no time!"

Returning to his seat, Jiang Ruotang found Lu Guifan meticulously scribbling notes. Unable to resist, he waited until Teacher Song Qinghe was about to enter before pinching Lu Guifan’s waist under the desk.

*Let’s see if you can stay quiet now!*

Little did Jiang Ruotang know that Lu Guifan had anticipated this and tensed his abdominal muscles in advance. Jiang only managed to pinch the fabric of his clothes, while Lu didn’t even furrow his brows.

Teacher Song had already stepped onto the podium. Lu Guifan grabbed Jiang Ruotang’s wrist, pulled him down, and then slid the practice test he had been working on in front of Jiang.

Only then did Jiang Ruotang realize it was his own test paper—Lu Guifan had written down the key steps to solving the second-to-last problem.

Jiang had barely glanced at it when Teacher Song called him up, asking him to come up and solve the problem.

What a coincidence! Lu Guifan, are you Teacher Song’s psychic?

Standing at the blackboard, though stumbling a bit, Jiang managed to solve the problem with the hints Lu had provided.

As usual, Teacher Song applauded for him again. If high schools also handed out elementary-style gold stars, Jiang Ruotang would probably have collected ninety-nine by now—enough to present to Lu Guifan as a confession.

Back at his seat, Jiang jabbed Lu with his elbow and whispered, “Did you know Teacher Song would call on me?”

“You’ve failed this problem twice in a row. If I were Teacher Song, I’d call on you too.”

In truth, Lu Guifan had overheard Teacher Song mentioning it when collecting everyone’s homework.

Forty minutes into the class, Jiang Ruotang’s eyelids began to droop, his head bobbing like he was nodding off.

Unconsciously, someone took his hand, fingers interlacing with his. Half-asleep, Jiang only registered how large and warm the other’s hand was, enveloping his own comfortably…

“Ow—!”

The next second, Jiang snapped awake as the other person squeezed his fingers painfully, like a vise.

Teacher Song, who had been walking to the back of the classroom, turned around, scanning for the source of the noise.

Luckily, Jiang Ruotang was well-liked—his nearby classmates, though aware it was him, all feigned ignorance.

The hand that had inflicted the torment withdrew, and Jiang finally realized it was Lu Guifan.

“That hurt…” Jiang shot him an accusatory glare.

“You’re pretty sensitive. A little pressure and you’re already in pain.”

Despite the flat tone, the words somehow carried an unintended innuendo.

*You’re the sensitive one! You’re the one who can’t handle a little pressure!*

When night study ended, Lu Guifan packed his bag and was about to tuck away the academic journal when Jiang Ruotang slapped a hand over it.

Jiang looked up at him with wide, shining eyes full of expectation and suggestion.

“Hey, class prez, instead of going home to face four empty walls and a lifeless house, why not come home with me?”

Lu Guifan leaned back against his chair, giving Jiang a deadpan stare. “What? You wanna sleep with me?”

Jiang Ruotang nearly choked on his own saliva.

From the other side of the aisle, Cai Ji snorted loudly, his curly hair shaking.

“If you weren’t so stone-faced, I’d have waved my checkbook by now,” Jiang played along with the joke. “Go on, what’s your rate? A tycoon like me has plenty of cash to throw around!”

Lu Guifan pressed a hand atop Jiang’s head. “Oh? I’m expensive.”

“Oh? How expensive?”

“Hit 500 points in the second mock exam,” Lu Guifan replied, leveling him with a look.

From Jiang’s angle, he could see the fine curve of Lu’s eyes behind his glasses, like a fine ink line.

Jiang gasped, feigning a heart attack, clutching his chest. “That’s *highway robbery*! You’re not asking for money—you’re asking for my life!”

Jian Sha, sitting in front of them, laughed too. Since the plagiarism blowup, this was the most she had smiled in a while.

Lu Guifan slid his hand beneath Jiang’s elbow, lifting it to retrieve the journal underneath.

“I’ll go home first to grab a few things.”

Hearing this, Jiang Ruotang went back to his seat, satisfied.

If Jiang Ruotang was over the moon, Bai Yingchuan was about to confront Bai Yue.

Sister Yu drove Bai Yingchuan home, chatting along the way about the fans’ reactions to *Sweet Little Fruit*.

As they changed shoes in the entryway, Sister Yu switched on the living room light—only for both of them to freeze when they met Bai Yue’s glacial stare.

“Mom, sitting there in silence like that—trying to scare me?” Bai Yingchuan’s tone was calm, as if nothing was amiss.

But Sister Yu could sense the tension thick enough to cut between mother and son.

“Sister Yu, you can go now. I need to talk to Yingchuan.”

“Got it.”

Sister Yu shot Bai Yingchuan a meaningful look—*call me if anything happens*—before leaving. She knew a confrontation was inevitable.

As the door clicked shut, the room turned into a freezer, the air icy.

Bai Yingchuan walked leisurely to the kitchen. He had meant to grab cucumber juice, but spotting the diet Coke reminded him of Jiang Ruotang, so he opened it and took several gulps.

The calmer he appeared, the more Bai Yue’s fury boiled inside her. If she could leave her body, she might have flown at him, wishing she could strangle this ungrateful brat.

Only when Bai Yingchuan turned and walked toward her did Bai Yue finally speak.

“Why?”

“Why *what*?” Bai Yingchuan didn’t sit on the couch beside her but perched on the coffee table across from her instead.

He was sharp-jawed, inheriting all the best features from his mother, with an added piercing intensity.

Now, as he looked at her, his gaze carried an unblinking intensity.

His broad shoulders and folded legs marked him as an adult.

Bai Yue repeated coldly, “Why did you help your classmate undermine Zhang Chun?”

Bai Yingchuan answered matter-of-factly, “Because I wanted the movie to fail. If it fails, you and I won’t have to get tangled in Lin Chengdong’s mess.”

“Then why did you personally go after Zhang Chun? You *wanted* Lin Chengdong to know you were targeting him!” Bai Yue’s voice rose.

Bai Yingchuan remained unruffled.

“Did you even consider that Lin Chengdong might destroy *me* in retaliation?” Bai Yue hissed through gritted teeth.

Bai Yingchuan smirked, a rare hint of steel in his tone. “He won’t touch you. He still needs you as his figurehead. Without a big name like yours, how could this trainwreck of a film justify a hundred-million-yuan budget? But Mom… have you ever realized that *you* hold the power to ruin *him*?”

"Me, destroy him? What kind of nonsense is that?"

"Whether it's the dinners I attended with you or the calls Lin Chengdong made to my phone, I've got it all recorded."

Bai Yue went still. "You... you recorded them?"

"Yes. I also consulted a top-notch lawyer. Based on the recordings, Lin Chengdong has already admitted to facilitating tax evasion for you through shadow contracts. If you come forward voluntarily and pay the back taxes and penalties, you won’t have to go to jail."

Bai Yue stared at her son in shock.

"Have you lost your mind? The back taxes and penalties could add up to over 50 million! I haven't even recouped my investments with Lin Chengdong yet! Where am I supposed to get 50 million? And at my age, I'd never recover! Are you trying to ruin the rest of my life?"

"Ms. Bai Yue, wake up and face reality. Lin Chengdong is getting greedier by the minute—his ambitions are expanding, and his reach keeps growing! He's going down eventually, and if you don’t save yourself now, your debt will balloon! Will it still just be 50 million then? If you report to the tax bureau with a cooperative attitude and pay the fines, given that social media isn't as big yet, as long as you aren’t blacklisted, you can still act! But if you wait until online media dominates, trying to save yourself then will only invite endless public backlash. That’s what will truly ruin the rest of your life!"

Bai Yue felt fear grip her. The thought of losing everything, of being judged by people who looked up to her, of having her reputation destroyed made her tremble.

"I don’t want to... I don’t want to pay 50 million..."

"I have over 12 million saved—I’ll give it all to you. For the rest, I can borrow. Anything money can fix isn't worth worrying about—don't you want to be free? Don’t you want to escape Lin Chengdong’s threats? Do you even realize the PR firms he made you work with are actually shell companies for those bigwigs? If you keep collaborating with him, you’re just funneling benefits to investors under the guise of PR! Those firms are their personal piggy banks, and you’re Lin Chengdong’s scapegoat!"

Bai Yue's jaw dropped. "Those... those PR firms... I thought they were Lin Chengdong’s pet project... He... he was using me to line others' pockets?"

"Mom, you need to save yourself. If you refuse, you’ll only go down with Lin Chengdong."

Bai Yingchuan looked down at his mother with uncharacteristic pity and a last shred of hope, willing her to stand up rather than be crushed by fame and fortune.

"I don’t want to... Lin Chengdong is too shrewd! He might not even get caught..." Bai Yue was in denial.

Bai Yingchuan sighed. "Then I’ll have to save myself."

"You... save yourself... What do you mean?"

"I’ll report you to the tax authorities."

His words cut like a knife, shattering all her illusions.

"I’m your mother! You’d report me?"

"Because I’m doing this for you—right now, I can still afford your penalties. In a few years, I might not be able to!"

That hit home. Bai Yue knew her son was right.

"Ms. Bai Yue, if you want to survive and thrive, you have to be ruthless with yourself."

It was an iconic line from Bai Yue’s first movie.

Bai Yingchuan turned and walked back to his room.

He knew his mother well—every expression, every hint of doubt in her eyes.

Bai Yue had long wanted to take a bite out of Lin Chengdong!

Now, it was only a matter of time. She would likely contact accountants and tax advisors to figure out the exact tax gap and penalties.

Sitting in his chair, Bai Yingchuan thought for a moment, then called Jiang Ruotang.

"Hey, did you convince your mom?" Jiang Ruotang’s voice was light as he leaned back in his chair, phone cradled between shoulder and ear.

"Not yet, but soon."

After a pause, Bai Yingchuan asked, "Jiang Ruotang, what’s your connection to Tang Yun Culture Investment?"

Jiang Ruotang had expected this. After all, he was the one who introduced Bai Yingchuan to Gao Cheng and took him to Dai Ming’s home.

Though young, Bai Yingchuan had keenly sensed Gao Cheng’s admiration and Dai Ming’s affection for Jiang Ruotang. It wasn’t surprising he’d pieced it together.

Still, Jiang Ruotang played dumb. "Why do you think that?"

"Your mother’s name is He Yun. Tang Yun Culture Investment—isn’t that just your name and hers combined?"

"Will you tell anyone?" Jiang Ruotang asked, though at this point, he didn’t care if it became public.

It was as good as an admission.

"No." Bai Yingchuan was happy to share a secret with Jiang Ruotang.

"Oh, I was kind of looking forward to seeing Lin Chengdong have a meltdown in front of me," Jiang Ruotang smirked. "Then I could’ve called the police and charged him with threats or intimidation."

Truthfully, before the college entrance exams, Jiang Ruotang didn’t want extra drama.

After a long silence, Bai Yingchuan asked, "Are you using me?"

"Oh? Why would you think that?" Jiang Ruotang’s tone was noncommittal, neither confirming nor denying, nor showing any anger.

"You had me coax information out of Zhang Chun to help Jian Sha reclaim her copyright—effectively declaring war on Lin Chengdong and subjecting his project to public scrutiny."

"You didn’t want to?" Jiang Ruotang countered.

The light, drawn-out lilt of his voice was like a snowflake landing coldly on Bai Yingchuan’s heart.

"I did." Bai Yingchuan looked down with a smile.

"Then how else am I using you?"

"You had me sign with Sweet Fruit not just to boost their traffic but also to make Lin Chengdong and his backers see my value and target me. But I’d never willingly become their tool—the world is too big, opportunities too plentiful. Why would I stick with Lin Chengdong’s going down with the ship? So I’d inevitably resist. And if I resist, my biggest obstacle is my mother."

On the other end, Jiang Ruotang’s lips curved. "You’re mother and son—two peas in a pod. She controls you in the name of maternal love, but if you’re resolute enough, you can influence her too."

Bai Yingchuan closed his eyes and let out a wry laugh.

"If both the script and lead actor of Lin Chengdong’s project blow up, those deep-pocket investors will come after him, right? What you’re waiting for is Lin Chengdong to panic—either turning on those backers or making things worse for himself."

Jiang Ruotang asked, "Don’t you want to see that?"

Though they couldn’t see each other, Bai Yingchuan tilted his chin up, his smile sharp as a blade. "I do."

"Then... happy collaboration?" Jiang Ruotang said.

Bai Yingchuan had to admit—being used by Jiang Ruotang was strangely gratifying.

Because in using him, Jiang Ruotang had also given him a way out.

At least now, they were no longer just distant classmates.

"Happy collaboration."

A quick double knock sounded on Jiang Ruotang’s door. Leaning back in his chair, he called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and Lu Guifan walked in with his backpack dangling from one strap. "You're on the phone? I'll come back later—"

"Done." Jiang Ruotang smiled at him.

Lu Guifan placed a hand on his head and gently pushed his chair back with practiced ease. "Stop rocking your chair. If you fall and crack your skull, no ER can fix that."

At that moment, Lu Guifan's voice on the other end of the phone felt like a dull blade grating along Bai Yingchuan's auditory nerves, digging deep into his brain.

Some things simply weren’t worth his attention.

But he hadn’t expected to feel like a character from some cheesy soap opera, his heart squeezed by barbs just because Lu Guifan was by Jiang Ruotang’s side.

"Jiang Ruotang."

Jiang Ruotang had been about to hang up when he heard his name called. "Hmm?"

"To me, your calculated approach is very charming."

Jiang Ruotang blinked. Being called "charming" by Bai Yingchuan, the future "male Daji"—should he feel honored?

Bai Yingchuan pressed on, "But does he accept the real you?"

Jiang Ruotang turned his head to look at Lu Guifan.

The other man was pulling up a chair, moving Jiang Ruotang’s test paper in front of himself. He took off his glasses, long fingers pinching a glasses cloth to wipe the lenses. His usually cold profile softened under the lamplight, heart-meltingly soft.

Jiang Ruotang swallowed. At that moment, he didn’t know how to answer Bai Yingchuan.

The long pause made Bai Yingchuan’s earlier needle-like mood suddenly improve.

"Goodnight, Xiao Jiang."

Bai Yingchuan hung up.

"What’s wrong?"

Sensing Jiang Ruotang’s gaze, Lu Guifan leaned closer.

When Jiang Ruotang met Lu Guifan’s obsidian-dark eyes, a sudden dread surged within him.

Bai Yingchuan’s words—"Does he accept the real you?"—still echoed in his mind.

Could Lu Guifan truly accept this version of him, the one who methodically schemed against Lin Chengdong?

In Lu Guifan’s world, everything followed order. He believed in hard work, despised copying homework to deceive teachers, exposed cheating, and lived by strict rules.

Could he accept the real Jiang Ruotang?

Jiang Ruotang knew it was foolish to agonize over a single remark. He had lived two lives; his convictions shouldn’t waver so easily.

But he cared about Lu Guifan, so he cared about Lu Guifan’s opinions.

"Ruo Tang, where’s the pajamas I left here last time?" Lu Guifan’s voice snapped Jiang Ruotang out of his thoughts.

"Oh, by my pillow..."

The words slipped out before Jiang Ruotang realized—why had he forgotten to put Lu Guifan’s pajamas back in the closet?

Crap! He swore he just liked the smell of Lu Guifan’s pajamas, the texture of the fuzzy, worn-in cotton fabric... He hadn’t done anything inappropriate with them!

If Lu Guifan found out he kept his pajamas by his pillow, he’d probably think Jiang Ruotang was some kind of weirdo!

"You took them out for me? Thanks."

Lu Guifan’s words saved him.

"N-no problem..."

Thank goodness Lu Guifan was naive—yeah right.

It was getting late. Lu Guifan explained a problem to Jiang Ruotang, but Jiang Ruotang seemed physically present while his mind wandered elsewhere. Lu Guifan didn’t call him out, just cleared the desk.

"Sleep. We have school tomorrow."

Jiang Ruotang: "Oh..."

A knock came at the door, carrying an annoyed tone.

"Who is it? Come in!"

The door swung open—it was Zhao Zhangfeng, standing there with his arms akimbo.

He had returned from the capital to Sheng City that afternoon, showered, slept, and only woken up an hour ago.

"Hey, so-called 'brother' and so-called 'class president,' do you two still remember Zhao Zhangfeng by the Daming Lake?"

Jiang Ruotang: "Uh... what do you want?"

"What do I want? You monopolize the class president at school, fine. But now he’s at your place, and you didn’t even think about me! Wasn’t the whole reason you dragged him home that both of us needed his tutoring?"

During his training camp, Zhao Zhangfeng seemed to have shot up. His once-youthful features had sharpened, his jaw sharper—he’d matured quite a bit.

"Ruo Tang, sleep first. I’ll see what Zhang Feng wants." Lu Guifan stood and followed Zhao Zhangfeng out.

Alone in the room, the silence was broken only by the faint rustling of tree branches outside.

Jiang Ruotang had nearly pushed aside Bai Yingchuan’s words, but now... they resurfaced.

In his past life, he and Lu Guifan had drifted apart after high school. Their understanding of each other was built on the simple, uncomplicated student years. Even when they reunited later, Jiang Ruotang had been recovering, living a low-key life.

So, in both lifetimes, perhaps... Lu Guifan had never truly known Jiang Ruotang.

Close to midnight, Lu Guifan eased the door open, expecting Jiang Ruotang to be asleep. Instead, he was still at the desk, lamplight illuminating his face. A million miles away, he hadn’t noticed Lu Guifan’s return.

He looked solemn, burdened by worries beyond his years, his youthful features knitted in a heartbreaking mix of tension and gloom.

Lu Guifan planted a hand on the desk, leaning in slowly until his shadow blocked the light. Noticing the change, Jiang Ruotang jolted back to reality.

He turned, meeting Lu Guifan’s eyes.

Backlit, those pupils still held a glimmer, like a moonbeam through black water—making Jiang Ruotang’s heart skip.

A moment ago, Jiang Ruotang had felt like a stranger to Lu Guifan. Now, it seemed as if everything about him had long been seen through.

"What’s on your mind?" Lu Guifan asked softly.

Jiang Ruotang could say "nothing" or blame it on Jian Sha’s plagiarism case—it’d be easy to dodge the question.

But Lu Guifan had never brushed him off. So Jiang Ruotang felt he owed him honesty.

"I... was thinking, if you saw the real me, you might find me too calculating and scheming, and start keeping your distance."

"Oh? What kind of plans and schemes do you have?" Lu Guifan asked while pulling out the chair beside him, leaning back, watching Jiang Ruotang with a lazy, relaxed look.

"I... I found out that Lin Lu's father, Lin Chengdong... has always been out to get my family. So I wanted to strike first."

Jiang Ruotang watched Lu Guifan carefully, reading his expression. If even the slightest hint of displeasure surfaced, he would stop immediately.

"Hmm, you’ve mentioned this to me before. No wonder when we first started high school and I saw how Lin Lu treated you, I always thought his attitude was strange."

"How so?"

"Babying you, spoiling you, and using you—not exactly friend behavior."

Jiang Ruotang scratched the back of his head. So it wasn’t just Zhao Zhangfeng, that hothead, who noticed—even Lu Guifan, who never bothered with others’ affairs, had seen it. Yet he had been strung along by Lin Lu all this time. He really was the king of fools.

"Let’s get back to your 'striking first.'" Lu Guifan tilted his chin slightly. "So how’d you do it?"