Chapter 13: Sigh! Sponsorship & Capitalism

Night closed in, and the last traces of daylight finally faded away.

After Aiwen and Li Siheng left, Le Mang dragged Lin Zhiyan around the room for yet another inspection. His neck craned so high he practically looked like a giraffe, green eyes locked onto her face as if determined to read every single thought in her mind.

After the third round, Lin Zhiyan finally said seriously, “I really do like it. Really. I’m not dissatisfied at all.”

Le Mang’s voice was hoarse. “I know that.”

“Then what happened to your throat?” Lin Zhiyan asked. “Did you catch a cold from the rain?”

Le Mang yawned. “No. You have no idea. If you don’t personally keep an eye on people, they slack off immediately! Supervising workers is so annoying, but I couldn’t let my family—”

He stopped himself, then changed course.

“Anyway, just remember this: I worked really, really hard.”

Lin Zhiyan imagined him yelling and pointing everywhere while supervising renovations and found it kind of funny.

“But seriously,” she said, “how did you manage to transform this place so quickly?”

“Money,” Le Mang replied matter-of-factly. “And the materials all use the newest technology.”

He walked to the sofa and opened the window, staring outside.

“But the scenery outside is ugly. Maybe panoramic windows would be better.”

“No need,” Lin Zhiyan replied sincerely as she sat down on the sofa. “Compared to fake scenery, I’d rather sit here and watch garbage processing.”

She paused.

“Watching them chop and compress trash into cubes is surprisingly stress-relieving.”

If she weren’t so busy, she would honestly consider filming daily videos and becoming a relaxation-content creator.

“Whatever. I’m not the one living here.” Le Mang sat beside her, looking like he was about to melt into the cushions. “You can stay here for free. The condition is that you come whenever I call. Got it?”

“What if I’m working? What if I have class?”

Lin Zhiyan asked casually.

Le Mang froze for a few seconds before replying seriously, “Then tell me in advance.”

Lin Zhiyan fell silent for a moment before asking:

“Am I working for you… or dating you?”

The instant the words left her mouth, Le Mang’s eyes widened. The veins along his neck and lips twitched as if spasming. He raised a hand, looking both angry and embarrassed, and shoved her shoulder.

“Ridiculous nonsense! Shameless! No sense of propriety! No shame at all!”

Four idioms exploded out of him in one breath, but the redness spreading beneath his skin betrayed him completely. Even his eyes looked watery.

Lin Zhiyan only laughed.

That made the blush on his face deepen further. The hand pushing her shoulder slowly curled inward until it became a grip instead. Le Mang turned his head away, staring out the window with no scenery, staring at the newly painted walls wrapped in elegant decorations, refusing to look at her.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” Lin Zhiyan said softly.

She lifted her hand and held his.

“As a boss, you’ve done way too much. As a friend, you’ve also done way too much.”

Then she added gently, “Do you want to rest for a while? You must be exhausted today.”

Le Mang’s ears burned so hot he felt like he might faint.

He gripped her hand back, though his fingertips trembled slightly.

Lin Zhiyan looked confused, but after taking a deep breath, he suddenly yanked her toward him.

“Good, then your first job is to… to rest with me!”

“Huh?”

She blanked out for a second.

Wait. Was this the spicy kind or the innocent kind?

The next second, she realized Le Mang had pressed her onto his lap, his entire body tense and stiff.

…Actually, this awkwardness was kind of cute.

Still way too inexperienced, though.

Oh.

Innocent kind.

Lin Zhiyan concluded internally.

“But isn’t this just me resting?”

She deliberately played dumb, acting as though she understood absolutely nothing.

“Because you’re supposed to rest with me!” Le Mang scrambled desperately to invent an explanation. The more he spoke, the more righteous he sounded. “What if you sneak off to do other things while I’m asleep?”

He continued, face flushed but trying to look authoritative:

“This way, if you get up, you’ll wake me up too. Understand?”

Lin Zhiyan looked at his sharp jawline before propping herself up on the sofa.

“Why don’t you lie on my lap instead? You’re already tired.”

Truthfully, she wasn’t used to lying on other people’s laps. It always felt strangely restrictive, like her freedom of movement was being controlled.

“Mm…” Le Mang seemed tempted for a moment, but a few seconds later he pulled her right back into his arms.

“What are you doing? You seem nervous. Your whole body’s stiff. What, are you shy?”

With flushed cheeks and damp eyes, he hovered his face above hers, trying desperately to establish some sort of dominant rhythm.

Unfortunately, he failed completely.

His eyes darted everywhere, clearly unable to find a place to settle.

“I’m just not used to this position,” Lin Zhiyan admitted.

“I don’t care. That’s how jobs are.”

A few seconds later, he added:

“Why aren’t you closing your eyes?”

Oh.

She got it now.

He wanted to kiss her.

Fine, fine, fine.

She was ready.

Lin Zhiyan obediently closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax while pretending complete innocence. Soon, she heard the rustling of fabric as he shifted. Warm, damp breaths brushed against her face.

Then Le Mang whispered softly:

“So what exactly was your relationship with Li Siheng before?”

Lin Zhiyan: “…”

Her eyes snapped open instantly.

Holy shit.

“…Uh.”

The moment she spoke, she immediately tried to sit up.

Le Mang’s green eyes darkened with suspicion.

“Why are you reacting so strongly?”

Lin Zhiyan: “…”

Damn it. There was no escaping this.

After thinking for a moment, she asked, “You heard us talking in the room?”

“I did,” Le Mang admitted openly. “But not clearly.”

His fingers lightly brushed the strands of hair near her cheek.

“I wanted to hear it from you, not from Li Siheng.”

Lin Zhiyan sighed.

“About two years ago, I think he transferred into my class for a semester because of some research project.”

Le Mang looked thoughtful.

“And then? What happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened.” Lin Zhiyan smiled faintly. “I was always ranked first. He was always second. We sat together, so we talked about grades sometimes.”

She continued:

“He said he targeted me because he considered me a friend, but I didn’t remember him at all. That hurt him a little. Now he’s apologizing because he realized he was immature.”

“And he also said some weird blessing.”

She deliberately downplayed the emotions involved and shifted the topic away.

“Something about wishing happiness for you and me together… It was just very…”

Le Mang’s eyes flickered.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

Neither of them exposed the overly intimate, ambiguous atmosphere between them.

He was careful.

She was careful too.

The mood between them became like a thin veil hanging in the air—soft, sticky, damp.

Lin Zhiyan only responded with a quiet hum.

She shouldn’t ruin this moment.

Better to let things flow naturally.

Le Mang lightly traced circles on her face with his finger.

“Your explanation sounds reasonable,” he said, “but I heard him talking about choosing majors or something. What did that mean? Don’t tell me he…”

His fingers tangled into her hair slightly harder.

“…picked his major because of you?”

The more he tried to sound indifferent, the tighter his fingers wound around her hair. He cared far too much about her expression.

Lin Zhiyan quickly grabbed his fingers before he accidentally ripped out her hair and scalp together.

That would definitely not be ideal.

“I don’t remember the details clearly,” she replied. “I only remember he suggested I look into the cultural studies department at the United Military-Political Academy. He said the academy planned to open admissions slots for District 16 within two years.”

At the time, the semester was nearly over.

Li Siheng had deliberately told her about it.

She’d thought it sounded ridiculous and didn’t believe him, but since he was leaving soon anyway, she didn’t want to disappoint him. So she pretended to believe it and even said she hoped they’d meet again in university someday, hoping to ease his anxiety about leaving.

As time passed, she forgot almost all of it.

Except the major recommendation.

Then one day, the academy really did announce admissions quotas for District 16.

She’d been absolutely shocked.

Her only regret was not asking Li Siheng if he had insider stock market information before he left.

Truthfully, if not for her blond ex-boyfriend getting arrested and forcing her into a time crunch, this academy never would’ve been her first choice.

Lin Zhiyan was extremely practical.

Compared to this famous aristocratic military academy, she would rather have attended Central Polytechnic University, which had more ordinary students and fiercer academic competition.

But there was no point thinking about it now.

She’d just make do.

“I believe you, but…” Le Mang frowned deeply, wrestling with something internally before finally lowering his head to look at her.

“How could you not remember what he looked like?”

In Le Mang’s eyes, Li Siheng had always been low-key, but undeniably striking in appearance and physique.

Part of him found it amusing—and even slightly satisfying—that Lin Zhiyan didn’t remember him.

Another part suspected she was hiding something.

“Maybe because those two years were too awful?” Lin Zhiyan played with his fingers while intertwining them with hers. “Everything before third year feels blurry to me. Maybe it was stress-related.”

“Stress from being poor?”

Le Mang blinked.

Lin Zhiyan lowered her eyes and laughed.

“Those words are pretty hurtful coming from a young master.”

Le Mang leaned closer.

“Why do you always call me ‘young master’?”

“Because you really do look like one.” His hanging hair tickled her cheek, making her turn her head away. “Flashy, noble, handsome, and… especially—”

Le Mang curved his lips upward.

“Especially what?”

“Especially spoiled.”

Le Mang: “…”

He grabbed her face and turned it back toward him.

“You too. You especially—especially—annoying!”

Lin Zhiyan covered her ears.

“Then you especially talk too much.”

“Then you especially like talking back,” Le Mang shot back. “And especially like making me angry.”

Lin Zhiyan rolled over in his arms and closed her eyes.

“Weren’t we supposed to be resting? I’m sleepy.”

Le Mang replied quietly:

“Go to sleep.”

He leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes too, gently stroking her hair.

Unfortunately, the moment he closed his eyes, his thoughts became a complete mess. He kept wanting to smile uncontrollably.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and opened his eyes again.

“Maybe you should still—”

He stopped.

She was already asleep.

Her breathing was even, eyes fully shut.

—Which one of them was actually more tired?!

Le Mang wanted to shake her awake.

Instead, he lightly traced the tiny mole hidden in her eyebrow, then touched the tear mole at the corner of her eye.

After a while, he leaned even closer.

His lips hovered above her warm face, and his own face flushed red from the heat.

In the end, his lips only brushed softly against her eyebrow.

That single action alone completely drained all his strength.

He collapsed against the sofa, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily with sweat covering his forehead.

His thoughts spiraled chaotically.

Everything felt beautiful, yet unreal.

What exactly were they?

Should he confess?

Would they start dating?

How was he supposed to face his family?

What should he do?

What should he do?

What should he do…?

Meanwhile, Lin Zhiyan had initially only pretended to sleep, intending to wait until he fell asleep before getting up to do her own things.

But he kept sighing, playing with her hair, constantly moving around without any intention of sleeping.

Eventually, she genuinely drifted off first.

Sleeping on someone’s lap was honestly uncomfortable.

The warmth of another person’s body continuously soaked into her face and head, making her feel overheated and suffocated.

Several times, she felt like she was burning with fever.

Heat slid down from her forehead like sticky sweat, tangled together with disordered thoughts until her sense of time and space blurred strangely.

She slept terribly.

Fragments of chaotic dreams flashed past.

At one moment she was lying on someone’s lap while they pinched her cheeks.

The next, she was tutoring children in someone else’s home while bratty kids caused trouble and their parents picked fights with her.

Then a massive fire suddenly roared toward her.

She jumped around desperately trying to escape before a giant construction truck came thundering straight at her.

The deafening horn.

The screeching tires.

Her tiny, helpless scream in front of the massive vehicle—

Then the scene shifted again.

Back to the convenience store.

Their final meeting.

His pale fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. Blood soaked through his black hair, running down across his eyes and face. His heavy brows made him look fierce. His dark eyes were hollow and fixed on her—as if he saw her, and yet didn’t.

Then suddenly his body jerked violently.

Blood spilled from his lips.

His eyes closed.

The hand gripping the steering wheel loosened, and his entire body collapsed like all its bones had been ripped out.

Police sirens screamed endlessly.

The smell of sealing tape filled the air.

The flashing particle barricades hurt her eyes.

Lin Zhiyan jolted awake instantly.

Sweat drenched her forehead. A thick blanket covered her body, and her throat burned with thirst.

After several seconds, she sat up sharply, gasping for air, then immediately clasped her hands together and shut her eyes.

“Just an accidental dream. Evil spirits disperse.”

She repeated it several times before finally calming down.

The room was brightly lit.

Sunlight streamed through the windows.

Le Mang was already gone, leaving the room empty and silent.

Lin Zhiyan froze.

…Huh?

It was morning?

Had she slept that long?!

Where even was this place? Why was it so luxurious?!

Still groggy, she stumbled into the living room before her brain finally rebooted.

After drinking some water, she noticed breakfast and milk placed neatly on the table.

One plate held a pile of tiny round pastries.

Just as she reached out to grab one, she paused and leaned closer.

Le Mang had arranged the pastries into words.

“Eat. More. Food!”

Lin Zhiyan read it aloud slowly.

Then stared at it again before sighing softly.

Maybe even without her provoking him, he would’ve eventually noticed that cat.

Still.

Still…

After tidying herself up, Lin Zhiyan sat down and slowly finished every bite of breakfast. Her aching stomach gradually filled with rich food, leaving her feeling deeply content.

Until she realized her terminal had died.

Which meant…

Her alarm never went off.

And she had overslept.

Conclusion:

She had an elective today.

And she was about to be late for the very first class.

Lin Zhiyan: “……”

Damn it!

If she left a bad first impression, her participation grade would definitely suffer!

She sprinted out the door immediately.

Throughout countless transfers on public transportation, she repeatedly checked the time while muttering “Ugh,” “Tch,” and “Ah!” in despair, as though visibly displaying her anxiety might convince the universe to show mercy.

By the time she rushed into the academy, boarded the aerial campus shuttle, crossed multiple departments, reached the public lecture complex, passed authorization checks, and finally arrived at the classroom—

She was already ten minutes late.

The hallway was silent.

The polished floors reflected the image of a solitary, miserable Lin Zhiyan.

She shut her eyes in despair, leaned against the wall, and slowly dragged herself to the classroom entrance.

The doors were wide open.

There weren’t many students inside, though several wore Military-Political Department uniforms.

More importantly—

There was no teacher at the podium.

…Wonderful.

Wonderful!

The teacher was late too!

Relieved, Lin Zhiyan sneaked quietly into the classroom.

All the seats in the back were gone, leaving only the front rows. In despair, she sat in the third row.

She checked her terminal.

Good.

Military and Political Systems History of the Old Era.

At least she brought the correct textbook.

Another few minutes passed.

Still no teacher.

Instead, another student entered.

He wore the black-and-gold military uniform too, though his buttons were loosely fastened. His platinum hair was messy and fluffy like he’d just woken up.

His features were sharp and handsome beyond doubt, but his deep gray-blue eyes stayed fixed on his terminal with complete indifference toward everything else.

And yet somehow—

Even while barely paying attention, he accurately found his way directly to the seat beside her.

Did this guy have built-in navigation or something?

Lin Zhiyan was baffled.

Soon, he lowered his terminal and finally glanced at her.

A few seconds later, he frowned.

“You look kind of familiar.”

Lin Zhiyan briefly wondered if she was just that charming—

But before she could think further, he had already moved on casually.

“Help me answer attendance.”

Lin Zhiyan: “…What?”

He tapped her terminal with his own.

“I sent you my account. Take whatever amount you want. I’m leaving.”

After taking a few steps, he added without turning around:

“Lu Weixi.”

Lin Zhiyan: “……”

Wait.

Hold on.

She hadn’t agreed yet!

But this Lu Weixi was already walking away like a ghost, eyes locked onto his terminal while rapidly gaming, effortlessly avoiding every obstacle in his path without looking.

Lin Zhiyan stared at her terminal blankly.

Eventually, she accepted the friend request.

His profile picture was completely black.

His username was just a single period.

Compared to a noble Military-Political Department elite, he looked more like a vocational-school student dreaming of becoming an esports streamer.

[yzy: Hello.]

[yzy: I’m not helping you fake attendance.]

[.: 【Transfer: 5000】]

[.: Just this once.]

Lin Zhiyan: “……”

Bro…

If you humiliate me like this…

I genuinely cannot withstand it!

After a long internal struggle, she replied with dignity sacrificed.

[yzy: Since it sounds like you really have something urgent, okay.]

[yzy: Just this once.]

[yzy: Accepted 5000.]

A second later, Lu Weixi replied.

[.: Nothing urgent. I just don’t want to attend class.]

Lin Zhiyan: “……”

She decided to pretend she never saw that.

Right then, another student entered the classroom.

The young man wore a Military-Political Department uniform. Tall, lean, expression cold.

The moment he walked in, he removed his coat, activated the classroom’s intelligent systems, and holographic maps instantly illuminated his face with icy light.

“My name is Jiang Yi,” he said calmly. “I’m the teaching assistant for this course. There was an emergency meeting, so I’m late.”

He scanned the room once before picking up the roster.

“Now then. Attendance.”

Lin Zhiyan: “……”

Wonderful.

Now she was doomed.

“Lin Zhiyan.”

Jiang Yi called.

Lin Zhiyan lowered her head and answered.

A few names later—

The inevitable arrived.

“Lu Weixi van Tarn.”

Jiang Yi read aloud.

Lin Zhiyan slowly raised her hand, supporting her forehead while lowering her voice to answer.

The next second, she felt a cold gaze land on her like it wanted to pierce straight through her face.

…Damn it.

She knew this was wrong.

But—

But that was five thousand credits!

Despair flooded her heart.

Jiang Yi looked at her with dark eyes.

He said nothing.

And continued to the next name.

Lin Zhiyan finally let out a long breath of relief.

But soon, her terminal vibrated.

[.: Did we get away with it?]

[yzy: …How do you know?]

Lu Weixi glanced at the message and burst into laughter, his gray-blue eyes curving like crescents.

He was in an excellent mood.

So the person who’d come out of Jiang Yi’s lounge that day really was her.

Perfect.

Now Jiang Yi’s little lover was helping him answer attendance.

Even if Jiang Yi was furious, he probably wouldn’t dare expose it.

Lu Weixi felt he had played this beautifully.

Meanwhile, Lin Zhiyan was drowning in quiet despair.

Because throughout the entire class—

Every time Jiang Yi took attendance,

he called Lu Weixi’s name again.

And every single time, she had to stand up and answer for him.

Each time, she felt an absurd sensation like:

“Bearing your surname beneath your name.”

God.

Five thousand credits had basically bought the rights to her identity.

A terrible miscalculation.