MCFEM C37

Chapter 37 – The Transfer Student…

When Gu Yang returned to the Gu residence, he took a turn around the house looking for the cat. After asking a servant, he learned that it had been taken out for its regular check-up.

With no cat to play with, Gu Yang listlessly thought of going upstairs, but Gu Qingxu stopped him.

“Why do you rush straight to your room as soon as you come back? I’m not going to eat you.”

Gu Yang’s hand was already resting on the railing. Hearing Gu Qingxu’s words, he turned his head to look at him.

“Do you need something?”

“Nothing much.” After a pause, Gu Qingxu smiled. “It’s just that the deadline for what Father mentioned last time has already come. I wanted to check if you’d finished your proposal.”

“Oh, that? I already handed it in,” Gu Yang replied absentmindedly.

He had outsourced the proposal to Yu Bai long ago. After Yu Bai finished, he’d asked if it needed revisions, but Gu Yang couldn’t be bothered to even open it and simply forwarded it directly to the secretary.

Gu Qingxu’s expression tightened. He hadn’t expected Gu Yang to actually remember that matter—much less to have truly completed one.

“That’s all you wanted to say?” Gu Yang, seeing he had nothing else to add, lifted the corner of his lips in a cold smile tinged with malice. “I thought you’d quarreled with Gu Yuhui again and wanted me to smooth things over for you.”

That smile pricked Gu Qingxu like a thorn. His face darkened as his gaze slowly dropped to the brooch pinned to Gu Yang’s clothes.

It was designed as a silver iris, its centerpiece a sunset-colored padparadscha sapphire.

Gu Qingxu knew that Gu Yuhui had bought an antique brooch at an auction during his last business trip.

Because Lu Ran had thrown a tantrum last time and intercepted the jewelry Gu Yang had been about to purchase, it had turned into a petty squabble between the younger generation. Yet Gu Yuhui still paid attention to such things.

The price wasn’t high, but it was certainly thoughtful.

A stiff, insincere smile tugged at Gu Qingxu’s lips.

And who, really, was the true son?

By then, Gu Yang had already gone upstairs. The servants below kept their eyes down, pretending to see nothing.

As Master Gu seldom stayed home, the staff mostly dealt with the two brothers.

The second young master appeared genial, but his words and actions were always forceful. The elder young master seemed gloomy, yet he was indifferent about many things.

In most cases, it was always the second young master issuing firm orders, while the elder young master offered no resistance. But if the elder did show displeasure, the second never fared well.

Finding no reason to linger, Gu Qingxu returned to his own room. Passing down the corridor, however, he spotted a servant standing outside his father’s study.

“What are you doing there?”

“Second young master.” The servant looked troubled. “The phone in the master’s study has been ringing nonstop—this is already the third call. Could it be something urgent?”

Indeed, the phone was ringing inside. Gu Qingxu waved the servant away. He stood listening a while, then, when the ringing started up again after cutting off, he pushed the door open.

His gaze swept the room with indifference. The desk was cluttered with scattered documents—likely unimportant.

The phone was still ringing. In this day and age, hardly anyone dialed landlines. Gu Qingxu assumed it was one of the old family acquaintances and picked it up.

On the other end, the voice came out in a rush of relief. “President Gu, this is Shen Shan. I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but could you spare me a few minutes? I think there might have been some misunderstanding between us…”

Ah, the Shen family.

Like a cockroach—never dying, forever crawling back into sight.

Clicking his tongue softly, Gu Qingxu sank into the armchair.

“That employee who caused trouble last time, I’ve already fired him.” Shen Shan spilled out his rehearsed lines in one breath. Finally managing to get through, he clung to the phone like a lifeline. “I truly had no idea that vile woman had done such things behind my back. I’ve already hired a divorce lawyer—I’ll be purging her, along with that worthless son of hers.”

Gu Qingxu had heard of it. Shen Shan’s current wife had once schemed her own son into drugging and killing his original wife in order to secure her position.

Now the police had come knocking. Meanwhile, five or six of Shen Shan’s companies were under investigation, the problems not insignificant.

It was said Shen Shan had originally built his business on the dowry home sold by his first wife.

Truly a despicable man.

Hearing no reply, Shen Shan grew more anxious. He was certain the Gu family’s suppression wasn’t over the scandal itself, but because of his degenerate son.

“President Gu, I failed to manage my people. That is indeed my mistake. As for your matters with Ms. Fu, that was so long ago—it should never have been brought up again.”

Gu Qingxu idly twirled the phone cord. At the mention, his hand stilled.

So her surname was Fu.

…Gu Yang’s mother.

Shen Shan grew all the more uneasy. He knew he shouldn’t have brought it up, but at this point begging or apologizing was useless. He might as well offend once more, flaunting his value in hopes of a last chance.

“You were simply a man of passion—there was no fault in boldly pursuing love. But look—this storm was stirred by a mere low-level employee in my company.”

“If your rivals seize upon this incident to attack you, the consequences will only grow worse. So I thought I could offer my services…”

“A man of passion, boldly pursuing love,” Gu Qingxu interrupted with mocking amusement. He actually laughed.

That face as thick as a city wall—no wonder Shen Shan had managed to build an empire from nothing.

Silence followed on the other end. Shen Shan realized, finally, that he wasn’t speaking to Gu Yuhui.

What use was it to talk to some snot-nosed brat?

But he dared not complain, only forced himself to say, “So it’s the Gu family’s second young master. Could you please pass the phone to your father? I have very important matters to discuss with him.”

“You’ve already said all you had to say. No need to waste any more of our time.”

“Uncle Shen, let me give you a piece of advice: instead of wasting time here, you’d better figure out how to answer the police. After all, with that drugging incident in your household, a slap doesn’t ring out with only one hand, does it?”

Shen Shan’s grip trembled, cold sweat dripping down his face.

“No need to call again. My father dislikes people prying for his contact information. To be honest, you should be grateful I picked up today. Otherwise, the outcome might have been much worse.”

After deliberately frightening him, Gu Qingxu hung up.

He stared at the calligraphy hanging opposite—“Self-Reflection”—and let out a cold, mocking laugh.

A man of passion, indeed. And in the end, he produced me.

—

In the tearoom, He Ming’an sat waiting for the porcelain kettle to boil.

Taking advantage of the pause, he called Ying Jiayi.

She answered almost immediately, her voice lively.

“Class rep? What made you think to call me?”

“Just checking in. You haven’t been in class for two weeks,” He Ming’an said gently. “Everything going smoothly?”

Ying Jiayi paused before replying lightly, “Smooth enough. That guy never had shares in the company. To please my grandparents, he signed a prenup giving up everything—perfect for sending him out with nothing.”

“I bet he never thought this day would come. Justice served.” Her voice faltered, then she rallied.

“It’s just my grandparents I feel sorry for. At their age, they have to return to the company and shoulder the burden again. But once I graduate, I can take it from them. After this ordeal, they trust me completely. I’ll be back in class soon.”

“As long as everything’s alright on your end.” He Ming’an smiled. “I was worried you’d run into trouble. Remember, if you need anything, we’re classmates—no need to stand on ceremony.”

“You two really are in sync—no wonder you grew up together.” Ying Jiayi teased. “When Gu Yang called me, he said the exact same thing.”

He Ming’an froze. “A-Yang called you?”

“Yeah. Gave me quite a scare—I thought I was dreaming. He asked about how I was doing, whether I needed help.”

“I never imagined I’d one day receive his concern. Honestly, it was moving.”

Her voice had softened, losing some of its earlier sharpness.

By then, the kettle had boiled. He Ming’an turned off the flame, poured the water over the waiting tea leaves.

“After all, he knew about your family’s situation first. He understood everything. It meant something different to him.”

“That’s true.” Ying Jiayi sighed. “If not for Gu Yang, I’d still be in the dark. And my mom—her illness was caught early. The attending doctor’s a friend of my grandmother’s, said it’s treatable. If that man had handled it, she probably wouldn’t have survived.”

“Gu Yang changed the fate of my entire family,” Ying Jiayi said firmly. “This debt—I’ll never forget it.”

Simple words, yet weighty. For them, debts of gratitude were priceless. With her destined to inherit the family business, such a statement carried enormous weight.

Pulled from his drifting thoughts, He Ming’an smiled faintly and hummed in acknowledgment.

After hanging up, he carried the tea out.

Beside the main house stood a small annex. Knocking lightly and hearing a response, he pushed the door open.

The air was filled with sandalwood incense. Compared to the main house, the room was stark and simple. On a nanmu tea table sat several small plates of offerings. In the corner rested a wooden box containing the Bodhisattva statue he’d had delivered, now dusted over.

A woman sat inside, hair pinned, clad in a bamboo-patterned robe, softly chanting scripture without lifting her head.

“New tea leaves—quite good quality. Try it. If you like, I’ll bring more.” He Ming’an set the cup beside her, but did not sit.

Her chanting paused. “This was a gift for your father, wasn’t it? I don’t deserve such things.”

“It was just the other day—the Lu family visited. Madam Lu, if I remember, you two were once close. She asked about you, but you were at the mountain temple then.”

“Cui Wanzhi?” The woman’s tone was flat. “She’s a muddle-headed fool. Not worth much. I only dealt with her because your father was close with the Lus. There was never any real friendship.”

“For the sake of some illegitimate child they took back, she’s running herself ragged. Truly laughable.” Her words were laced with mockery, her eyes colder still.

He Ming’an hadn’t expected her to know so much. He lowered his eyes. The tea, once steaming, had already lost its warmth in the chill.

“He’s not illegitimate—just switched by mistake at the hospital. Their original younger son was the fake.” His explanation didn’t soften her indifference.

“He’s only reclaiming what was his all along.”

He Ming’an turned toward the Bodhisattva statue, knelt upon the cushion, closed his eyes.

“Since you’ve lit incense, I’ll bow too. Much has happened lately—I’d like to pray for someone.”

She didn’t object, but her gaze returned to the scripture. “Your heart isn’t sincere. You don’t believe, except when you want something. You’re just like your father.”

He Ming’an opened his eyes, rose, and prepared to leave.

At the door, he couldn’t help adding: “The weather’s turning quickly. Please keep warm—don’t dress too thinly.”

She gave no reply, chanting resuming at once.

Outside, a cold wind swept over his too-thin clothes. He took a call from his father’s secretary.

“Young master, I haven’t been able to reach President He. Could you make a decision for now?”

“Go on.”

“It’s about the Lu family’s second young master. He’d applied for boarding before, but the eldest called to cancel, saying it wasn’t needed. Now the second has come himself, asking to board immediately. The logistics department wants to know what to do—he’s already here, looking rather unwell.”

It was a small matter, but with the Lus involved, no one dared risk offending.

Driven out, is he? A real son, reduced to this. What on earth is the Lu family doing?

“Plenty of empty dorms, right? Bedding can be pulled from storage. Let him stay,” He Ming’an said.

“Also—” He paused. “Give him a spot in Class Eleven. Ask if he wants it.”

“Huh? But won’t we need to—”

“No need to inform the Lus. The choice is his. If he’s willing, transfer him directly.” His face betrayed no emotion. “Think of it as a surprise.”

—

The next morning, Lu Ran, who had been sulking for days, was in unusually good spirits.

He felt he’d scored a victory, driving that thorn out of the house. His pent-up gloom had finally eased.

Even the disdainful stares of his classmates barely touched him. After putting down his bag, he stared straight at Gu Yang beside him.

“Good morning, Gu Yang.”

Gu Yang turned with a dark aura. “It isn’t.”

Last night, he hadn’t locked his door. Somehow, the family’s ragdoll cat had climbed to the third floor, pushed his door open, and leapt onto him—a full twenty pounds of feline body slam.

Rare as it was for him to fall asleep, it had turned into yet another sleepless night.

Xiao Huang, who learned of the mishap, had nearly fainted in fear—it was her oversight. But Gu Yang, face grim, had simply handed the cat to her and walked away in silence.

Lu Ran, seeing his expression, scoffed inwardly.

On a normal day, he’d have snapped back—who are you showing that corpse face to first thing in the morning?

But things were different now. He forced the words down.

He had approached Gu Yang to probe for information.

After last night, he’d realized Gu Yang’s ability to hear future thoughts was a double-edged sword. Used properly, it could work to his advantage.

If his classmates forbade him from speaking to Gu Yang in private, then fine—he’d shamelessly do it in front of everyone.

After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d suffered lately.

As long as he had intel in advance, he could crush Lu Ji completely.

But Gu Yang, sleep-deprived, was zoning out, mind idling in standby.

Growing impatient, Lu Ran was about to say something when the math teacher entered.

“Students, today we have a transfer student joining us. From now on, he’ll be studying with you. His grades are excellent—make sure to help each other and improve together.”

With that, she gestured for the student outside to come in.

After a moment’s hesitation, a boy in uniform walked in.

The warm applause she had imagined never came—not even a polite smattering.

The classroom was deathly silent.

She pushed up her glasses, sweating nervously.

So disrespectful? To me is one thing—but not even for the transfer student? Aren’t you all classmates?

She cast an uneasy glance aside, worried for the boy’s fragile heart.

Lu Ji’s face was expressionless. Before deciding, he had already anticipated this outcome.

From yesterday’s events, it was clear rumors were spreading at school—that he was the true son. The Lu family must have thought he’d leaked it, hence their fury.

Though it could just as easily have been a scene orchestrated by Lu Ran to mislead the others.

He had no idea what Class Eleven’s sudden invitation meant, but he had chosen to gamble.

He refused to live under Lu Ran’s heel, powerless. Raised in that kind of family, his nature was stubborn to the bone. He would not yield.

So he kept his face cold, silently enduring the scrutiny of every gaze.

He didn’t know how he looked in their eyes.

But he, too, was studying them.

His glance lingered a few seconds longer on He Ming’an, then naturally fell upon Gu Yang behind him.

His eyes flicked away immediately.

Their first meeting at the hospital had left a deep impression. He wasn’t good at dealing with that type, nor could he stand the way the other had stared—like observing some rare beast in a zoo.

Better not to engage at all.

Next, his eyes landed on Lu Ran seated beside Gu Yang.

The shock on that face was so intense, Lu Ji even wondered maliciously if he was about to collapse straight into another hospital stay.

He’d supposedly triumphed last night. Even if not smug, shouldn’t he look pleased?

Lu Ji glanced past him thoughtfully, sweeping the classroom to see what it was about Class Eleven that could frighten Lu Ran so badly.

【How strange—why has Lu Ji transferred into our class? This wasn’t in the script.】

The sudden voice stunned Lu Ji. From the podium, he had a perfect view of the room, but he couldn’t identify who had spoken.

Puzzled, he glanced at the teacher—only to find her giving him a look of pity.

He looked back down. No one moved. All stared at him, motionless.

A chill ran down his spine.

And for some reason, the voice felt oddly familiar.

【Does he not want to date Lu Ran across classes? What if we end up stuck as part of their little couple’s angst play…】

【School’s annoying enough already. Can’t they just open a class for the two of them to date in?】

Lu Ji: ???

The hell is this noise?

And what kind of talk was that? Was this even Chinese?