The next day, when afternoon tutoring time arrived, Song Fu planned to take public transport first and then a taxi, just like before. But as soon as she stood at the school gate, she received a call from Uncle Butler. “Are you heading to Shiyue’s place?”
Uncle Butler said the tutoring location had changed this time—they wouldn’t go to the villa—and he didn’t give any more detailed reasons. However, it made perfect sense for the child to go to his older brother’s place for lessons, so Song Fu didn’t suspect anything. “Okay, got it. But I might be a bit late.”
No matter how she rushed, she still arrived five minutes late. Song Fu stood in front of the gray entrance door and pressed the doorbell.
As if he had been waiting the whole time, the door opened at the second ring.
The youth she had just seen the day before appeared before her again. His pale skin was now even closer to ashen, his gaze lowered, his dark eyes staring deeply at her, his lips pressed into a straight line as if enduring something…
Song Fu noticed the heavy dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, as well as the impossible-to-ignore wound at the corner of his mouth. “Who hit you?!”
Hearing this, the youth wiped at his injured lip corner in a self-deprecating manner, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Does it pain you?”
She couldn’t say she didn’t care at all, but this short question seemed to carry other implications, leaving Song Fu unable to respond straightforwardly. She could only counter with, “What?”
Only after she said this did the youth step aside to let her in, but he didn’t speak again. He simply followed her with a gaze as tangible as substance, impossible to ignore.
Song Fu uncomfortably turned her head to look at the youth. His exquisitely three-dimensional side profile remained unchanged, but his expression was unprecedentedly cold.
The door clicked shut. No lights were on inside, and the blackout curtains weren’t drawn, so the view darkened instantly.
“You slept pretty well?” Lu Yan Zhi hooked up a smile, but his eyes and voice carried the same chill.
Song Fu wasn’t thick-skinned. On the contrary, the moment she entered and didn’t see Cheng Yuan’s figure, her heart had started pounding hard. Something was off, but she couldn’t pinpoint what. It felt like walking on ice about to crack.
She looked up and met his gaze directly. “Average. What’s up?”
“So fierce.”
With a coquettish, complaining intimate tone, Lu Yan Zhi stepped closer and asked the question he had posed once before. “Am I good-looking?”
His handsome face drew near, so close it seemed like they would kiss in the next second. Song Fu’s back was already against the wall, her brows furrowing.
Not getting an answer, Lu Yan Zhi drooped his eyelashes. “Why aren’t you talking?”
“Does it have anything to do with me?” Song Fu schooled her small face into a stiff expression and shot back bluntly.
She was already quite annoyed because of the plot, and she truly had no extra energy to deal with this—
“I’m Yan.”
Song Fu, who had been pursing her lips, froze. Her icy attitude crumbled instantly as she whipped her head around. After a moment, she found her voice again. “Ah?”
Lu Yan Zhi tilted his head, his ink-black pupils reflecting only that one person. He repeated slowly and deliberately, “I’m Yan. Does it have nothing to do with you?”
His words were clear, leaving no room for mishearing. Song Fu’s mind went blank for a brief second. “You’re Yan.”
The male lead. “But you’re a high schooler.”
That was also the fundamental reason she had never connected the two even once.
Thinking back now, their voices were indeed similar, but voices transmitted over the internet always distorted to some degree. Plus, her first meeting with Shiyue—no, the male lead’s name was actually Lu Yan Zhi. During that first encounter with Lu Yan Zhi, his voice had been a bit hoarse. Afterward, she hadn’t voice-chatted with the male lead much, only a few times a week at most, so…
“You thought I was an elementary schooler?” Lu Yan Zhi laughed mockingly. He caught Song Fu’s hand and pressed it to his face, leaning down slightly. “Satisfied?”
“No.” Song Fu couldn’t figure it out at all. “You should be a college student.”
[Host, I got it!!]
[The male lead can indeed be a senior in high school at this point.] The System finally fulfilled its role, helping to straighten out the logic. [Although the plot mentions the female lead is a freshman, the overall timeline is stretched out. The male lead’s info is given very vaguely. He officially appears in this summer, by which time he has indeed finished high school and become a proper college student.]
Song Fu blinked, incredulous. ‘Why make it so vague?’
She muttered it to herself, but the System actually gave a reason. [The current plotline principle is that romance is best after high school graduation, after coming of age. So even as the male and female leads’ feelings heat up, it’s during the summer vacation after high school graduation.]
Song Fu accepted reality. ‘I did something unnecessary.’
[It’s also the plotline’s incompleteness at fault.]
The System sheepishly accepted. [The plotline is just the main storyline outline. Other details are filled in by the small world’s will to achieve logical completeness. Since the plotline didn’t mention the male lead’s family situation, you didn’t discover it quickly.]
Song Fu thanked the System for finding her an excuse and restrained the urge to sigh.
But Lu Yan Zhi noticed. His tone turned unkind. “Are you spacing out?”
“No.” Song Fu kept a wooden expression.
So, was this the part where he came to settle scores and slap her face? She wasn’t quite sure, so she just maintained her position standing there, with no extra expressions.
This only made Lu Yan Zhi more irritated, nearly defeated. He couldn’t even keep up the initial facade of ease.
He hadn’t explained clearly over the phone and chose to meet in person precisely because he felt he couldn’t read Song Fu. He wanted to see her expressions, to understand, to know for sure—but he got nothing. Apart from the initial surprise, he read no emotional ripples from that pretty, wooden little face.
Lu Yan Zhi ground his back teeth and spoke in a snide tone. “Nothing to say? So dissatisfied.”
Song Fu figured she had adopted a stance ready to take the hit, lowering her head. “Sorry.”
Lu Yan Zhi let out another cold laugh and pulled out his phone, reading aloud:
“Who cares if he’s an elementary schooler? As long as he gives me money, it’s fine. Even if he’s a pig-headed loser, it has nothing to do with me. We’re just in-game lovers; we’re not really together.”
He ended with a cold laugh, each word squeezed out through gritted teeth.
Hearing her own sent words read back, Song Fu lifted her face again, her lips parting slightly.
Lu Yan Zhi finally saw the remorse and guilt he wanted. The curve at his lips had long vanished. “No excuses?”
Song Fu had nothing to say.
She could make some, but she didn’t want to or wish to find any excuses for herself.
Saying things like she had no choice, or if she could she wouldn’t have—what was the point?
She had done it. She had done something bad that hurt someone, yet shamelessly spouting reasons, claiming to seek forgiveness when it was really just to make herself feel better—hypocritical and disgusting.
Song Fu was willing to bear the consequences. “I said it.”
Coldness condensed in Lu Yan Zhi’s eyes. His hand gripped tightly, knuckles turning white.
Couldn’t she say something to coax him?
Why not say something to salvage it?
Was he that unsatisfactory?
Song Fu didn’t know what was going through his mind. Seeing no reaction from Lu Yan Zhi, to prove she truly knew she was wrong—and for the plot to proceed normally—she took the initiative to mention the price she should pay. “I’ll pay back all your money.”
The string in Lu Yan Zhi’s mind snapped completely at these boundary-drawing words. Frustration condensed, nearly suffocating him. “Why?”
What did she actually care about?
Money? Seemed not.
Face? His face wasn’t good-looking?
Not even a bit of liking, all fake? Impossible.
He asked lowly, “Why?”
Song Fu heard the tremor in his voice. She looked up and gazed into a pair of reddened eyes. Because his original complexion was fair enough, the redness around his eyes was especially obvious. Tears pooled in his sockets, as if they would fall in the next moment.
In the end, they didn’t.
Her raised hand wiped them away.
She stared blankly at the moisture on her fingertip. “You’re not mad?”
Lu Yan Zhi turned his face aside, grumpy. “Do I look not mad?”
Song Fu: “…”
Fine, he didn’t. He looked like he was about to be pissed to death.
But her real meaning was, “Even though I was so excessive, you don’t hate me?”
Lu Yan Zhi didn’t answer directly. He stubbornly asked again, “Why so dissatisfied?”
He hadn’t slept all night yesterday. He had already planned it out—he wouldn’t forgive easily. At least, he wouldn’t soften until Song Fu learned to cherish him. But Song Fu showed no intention of becoming his girlfriend at all. Her words were like that of a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.
“Aren’t you good at sweet-talking?” What would it hurt to say a couple nice things to him?
Urged on, Song Fu braced herself and answered, “Age.”
“What?”
“I thought you were a college student. High school puppy love is bad.” Song Fu’s face was serious.
Lu Yan Zhi was stunned.
Treating him like this now was good?
Was there no one to care if the flower of the nation’s future froze to death? “You like older ones.”
Song Fu mumbled in response, “Pretty much.”
Other things could be changed, but age was a hard condition. Lu Yan Zhi’s brows furrowed tightly. “What’s good about older ones? Women live five years longer on average than men. If you find an older one, what if he dies early?”
Song Fu: “…” He spoke so harshly. “You’re not much younger than me either. Just two or three years.”
Lu Yan Zhi’s face was earnest. “Wrong. By full years, I’m only one year and eight months younger than you.”
“How did you calculate that?” Song Fu didn’t remember revealing her exact age.
Lu Yan Zhi’s gaze drifted aside. “I have a photo of your student ID. Next week is your birthday. I know.”
Song Fu was speechless.
Lu Yan Zhi insisted on making it clear. “If you like it, you can keep calling me brother. What’s the problem?”
Song Fu rubbed her forehead. “How about we take some time to cool off first?”
Lu Yan Zhi: “I’ve cooled off long enough.”
Song Fu: “…I need to. Can I?”
Lu Yan Zhi reluctantly agreed.
“Then I’ll head out first.” Song Fu walked toward the door.
Her wrist was caught again. She turned her head.
“Dinner. I already ordered it.” Lu Yan Zhi’s tone was still unhappy. “No cake or pudding.”
Song Fu’s heart skipped a beat. Her fingertip, stained with tears, burned hotly, like an extra heart beating along with it. She slowly curled her fingertip into her palm, thinking that being this likable was a bit too much, wasn’t it?
Song Fu didn’t insist on leaving anymore. Instead, she asked, “Really none?”
Lu Yan Zhi tossed out coldly, “None.”
He waited a bit, and seeing no follow-up, he slowly added himself, “But there’s double skin milk.”