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Join the ServerXu Zhou had just sat down in the most secluded corner of the main dining hall when Joey hurried over and slid into the seat across from him, clutching a cola and a tuna sandwich.
“Why aren’t you looking at your phone today?”
Joey lowered his voice, crumpling the wrapper between his fingers.
“Last night, a photo of Mateo carrying your suitcase got three thousand replies on the forum!”
“Someone put Gu Yanli’s off-road vehicle and your dorm confirmation together, saying the Gu family has claimed you as private territory.”
“Craziest part is, this morning someone spotted on the logistics end that Theodore Vale’s name was added to the permanent visitor whitelist for P-18. Is that true or not?”
“The card was issued by the system.”
Xu Zhou poked at the dry chicken breast on his tray with a fork, his tone unhurried.
“Maybe Saint Lester’s system needs a reboot too.”
Joey choked for half a second, then muttered,
“An Ivy League joint school board system that bugs out every day? The academic affairs office would have been impeached by now. Mateo found out this morning that Theodore got a permanent card. Didn’t he start a fight with you in the living room?”
“He only asked me whether the fried eggs had gone cold.”
Xu Zhou looked at the lifeless piece of chicken on his tray.
The light in the main dining hall was cold and dim. The tall stained-glass windows filtered the sunshine outside into a dull, dark blue.
In the very center, tables were draped in snow-white linen, and silverware reflected a cold gleam beside crystal glasses.
That was the long table reserved by the Black Rose Society and the heirs of the board of trustees.
Sponsored students like Xu Zhou were usually squeezed into plastic folding seats near the recycling bay, where even the benches wobbled and creaked underfoot.
At Saint Lester, the class divide was obvious in the air. Even the food on the plates was different.
The long table at the front served air-flown Boston lobster and top-grade ribeye. The back rows only got cold, skinless chicken breast.
Xu Zhou was about to cut into the unappetizing chicken when the edge of the table was tapped twice.
A boy in a black vest with silver threading stopped beside the table, holding a dark wooden tray.
He moved quietly. At Saint Lester, that black vest marked him as a private employee of the Black Rose Society. They weren’t under the school’s logistics. They served only the duke’s heir, Theodore Vale.
The boy placed a black, hard-paper envelope gently beside Xu Zhou’s plate, right against the dry chicken breast.
The front had no writing. On the back, a rose was pressed into a fine silver wax seal, its edges casting a cold metallic glint.
Joey stared at the rose seal. Under the cold light, his face turned a shade paler. “Black Rose…”
“Flower?” Xu Zhou raised an eyebrow.
“The most untouchable old-money circle at Saint Lester.”
Joey’s voice sank even lower. Even the movement of chewing his sandwich stopped.
“Theodore Vale. There’s a seat card on the back of the envelope. Don’t flip it over.”
Xu Zhou didn’t listen. Stretching out two fingers, he turned the envelope over, slowly.
Inside the envelope’s flap was indeed a small seat card, black with silver edges. The card stock was heavy. On it, elegant handwritten English was printed in silver powder: [Cecil Xu / Black Rose Dinner – Observer Seat].
“It’s over.”
Joey shrank behind his cola cup, his voice trembling like a sieve.
“It’s the observer seat for the Black Rose dinner. Theodore put your name straight onto this season’s roster. This isn’t an ordinary invitation. It’s a social brand from the old-money circle.”
“Once they put you on the roster, either you climb their ladder, or you wait to be stripped clean by these people during the social season. You can’t back out. If you don’t open it, they’ll still say you left the Black Rose Society’s invitation hanging like a dishrag. That would end even worse.”
Xu Zhou looked at the card with his name on it. He rubbed the stiff silver edge with his fingertip and asked suddenly, “Can I say I don’t know how to read?”
“Your entrance assessment ranked third. The teacher announced it over the microphone yesterday. The whole school heard.”
“Can I apply for intellectual downgrade and drop out?”
“The school doesn’t accept applications for intellectual decline.”
Joey gave him an extremely sympathetic look.
“Also, Saint Lester’s sponsored student agreement has a penalty clause. Seven figures, in dollars.”
Xu Zhou went quiet.
He looked at the delicate black-and-silver card and felt that this school’s privileged machinery was like a giant animal trap. No matter where he stepped back, it could snap shut precisely on his ankle.
On the main dining hall’s big screen, the Friday Night Football trailer was playing on mute. In the shot, Mateo wore the No. 7 jersey and sent an opponent flying through a shower of confetti, wild and flamboyant.
Xu Zhou was about to flip the envelope back when the entrance of the dining hall suddenly fell quiet.
The sound of leather shoes on the wooden floor was sharp, mixed with the clatter of a metal keychain.
Mateo walked toward this secluded corner with a cold face, carrying a tray piled up like a small mountain.
He had changed into the school team’s uniform jacket. His open collar revealed a wheat-colored collarbone, and the muscles in his neck were tight. He still carried the warm moisture from the locker room.
His dark eyes were fixed straight on Xu Zhou. More precisely, on the silver wax rose beside Xu Zhou’s plate.
He walked extremely fast, and his broad shoulders knocked a passing girl’s chair askew by half an inch, stirring up an almost defiant gust of wind.
The aristocratic students around, who had been pretending to eat, all paused. The whispers of contempt and nosy curiosity dropped low in an instant.
Mateo stopped at the table, standing over it, his tall frame blocking most of the light from the corridor lamps above.
He slapped his heavy tray onto the tabletop. The force made a huge sound, shaking Xu Zhou’s water glass.
He stared hard at the observer seat card. Deep in his black eyes, a heavy anger churned. A cold sneer squeezed out of his throat.
“Xu Zhou, what are you holding in your hand?”
You think this chapter was thrilling? Wait until you read The Strongest Tactical Maid Absolutely Refuses to Serve!! Click here to discover the next big twist!
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