MCFEM C58

Chapter 58 – A Pair of Cold Hands Gently Covered…

After stepping into the classroom, Lu Ji could feel the subtle, sidelong glances from his classmates falling on him.

His expression didn’t change as he walked straight to his seat.

“Congratulations,” Ye Chen said with a grin. “The Lu family’s Second Young Master—it’s finally, completely yours now.”

Lu Ji pulled out his chair and sat down, looking at him calmly. “It was mine from the beginning.”

Hearing that, Ye Chen couldn’t help laughing. “How did I never realize you were this amusing? I thought you were just a tight-lipped bore.”

“Never expected you’d really beat Lu Ran and throw him out.” Ye Chen leaned closer. “But you don’t think that’s the end of it, do you?”

“I don’t know what tricks you pulled, but those two Lu parents are the most muddleheaded of all. Who knows when they’ll go soft again.”

He raised his voice. “Class Rep, Lu Ran hasn’t dropped out, has he?”

He Ming’an was bent over writing. He didn’t lift his head, his pen didn’t pause. “Of course not. Young Lu’s tuition is already paid. The school won’t expel him over family matters.”

Ye Chen winked at Lu Ji.

Lu Ji frowned slightly. He could tell Ye Chen was stirring trouble, trying to use him as a weapon.

“If he really has the face to keep coming to class, won’t that just annoy you? Better to strike while the iron’s hot—kick him while he’s down…”

Bang—

A stack of books slammed down onto the teacher’s desk with a resounding thud. Ye Chen flinched, glancing back to see Cheng Zishi staring coldly at him.

“Well now, big star, you finally make it back to school and you’re already playing laborer?” Ye Chen teased with a fake smile.

“Better to keep busy than fail to keep your mouth in check, isn’t it?” Cheng Zishi sneered, starting to hand out the lecture notes.

Ye Chen leaned back, pretending not to catch the barb. He stretched a hand out to take a copy, but Cheng Zishi didn’t even bother to touch him, tossing it directly onto his desk.

When he passed the papers to Lu Ji, their eyes met.

Lu Ji’s gaze shifted slightly—he remembered their temporary alliance. Was that look a signal, telling him to leave the next step to him?

“So, big star,” Ye Chen kept running his mouth, “with Lu Ran’s downfall, you must be overjoyed. He did make himself your enemy, after all.”

He was alluding to the celebration banquet at Qi Ming’s place, where Cheng Zishi had been present.

“See how loyal I am? I didn’t say a word to Lu Ran. If he’d found out he was offending you, he might’ve gone all in and dealt with you early.”

“Ye Chen.” Cheng Zishi cut him off coldly. “Is it because Gu Yang isn’t in class today that you think you can talk so recklessly?”

That hit a sore spot. Ye Chen’s face changed instantly, his expression stormy as he searched the other’s face for a crack.

Cheng Zishi smirked, satisfied. He’d suspected Ye Chen had something up his sleeve—otherwise why was his tail always tucked between his legs when Gu Yang was around?

Ever since Gu Yang had started showing his true colors, those Cheng had disliked—Shen Mingjun, Nie Ying, Lu Ran—each had met their own downfall. Like some kind of demon-suppressing tower.

“All right,” He Ming’an finally stepped in to restore order. “Zishi, thanks for bringing the handouts. Everyone, look them over; the homeroom teacher will explain later.”

“No problem, just on the way.”

Though it was obvious he was smoothing things over, Cheng Zishi gave him face, snorting once before sitting back down and ignoring Ye Chen.

“Why’s Gu Yang absent today?” Yu Bai asked curiously. “Is he sick?”

Though Gu Yang always looked frail, he was actually quite healthy—hardly ever caught so much as a cold.

“No, just took a day off,” He Ming’an said with a wry smile.

Yu Bai clicked his tongue, giving a knowing look.

“He’s probably still in bed, isn’t he.”

He Ming’an put a finger to his lips, signaling him to hush.

—

Gu Yang gave the smallest sneeze. He had just climbed out of bed, already dressed, fastening his buttons one by one.

Trailing behind, Xiao Huang couldn’t help murmuring, “Second Young Master, could you be catching a cold?”

“How could I?” Gu Yang said seriously. “Someone must be talking about me behind my back.”

The childish reply tugged a faint smile from Xiao Huang.

Seeing he was nearly ready, Uncle Huang signaled the servant to bring over the freshly pressed suit.

It was gunmetal gray, paired with a crisp white shirt.

To prevent creases, he secured it at the legs with shirt stays.

Gu Yang examined himself in the mirror, found the look a little too plain, and dug out a pair of sapphire cufflinks to add.

“How does it look?” he asked offhandedly.

“Perfect, Second Young Master,” Uncle Huang answered warmly.

Gu Yang knew asking him was pointless. He turned, gaze falling on the cat in Xiao Huang’s arms.

He reached out, tempted to hold it, but stopped himself for fear of fur on his suit. Instead, he gave its head a couple of soft rubs.

“The car’s ready—we can leave anytime.”

The birthday gift for Old Master Nie had already been sent ahead in another car: a jade carving of a reclining Maitreya Buddha, set on a sandalwood base, the design using the original hues of the jadeite stone.

But Gu Yang hadn’t spared it a thought. For him, just showing up was enough effort.

Lately, he’d been attending far too many banquets—enough to fill his entire year’s quota.

He mused on this as he arrived at the venue, somewhat early compared to most.

The Gu family’s gift matched Old Master Nie’s tastes. Ever since his sons had taken key roles in the company, the old man had begun stepping back, passing his time collecting antiques and artwork.

Not that it mattered to Gu Yang. He wasn’t close to the man. As for Nie Ying—better not mentioned.

“Well, look who’s early,” Xie Wu called out, spotting him from afar. “Don’t tell me you skipped class just for this?”

Expressionless, Gu Yang didn’t bother answering such nonsense.

Xie Kai, when not in one of his spells, could at least act normal. He exchanged a few polite words with Gu Yang before leaving him and his brother together.

“I was supposed to come with He Ming’an,” Xie Wu said, dragging Gu Yang toward the buffet, piling cake onto a plate. “But he said he had to pick someone up, told me to head over first. No idea who.”

He bit in. “Starving. This cake’s way too sweet though.”

Naturally cheerful, Xie Wu leaned casually against the table, chatting away without needing much response.

As they talked, a stir came from nearby.

A woman stumbled into Xie Kai’s arms, letting out a soft “oh.” He quickly steadied her.

She stepped back gracefully, fingers brushing through her hair, then slowly lifted her face—large, tender apricot eyes gazing up at him.

Though clearly no longer young, she was well-preserved, the years leaving little trace, her bearing soft with maturity.

Xie Kai’s eyes went glassy. So did Xie Wu’s—but for very different reasons.

His brother’s expression was tender. His voice, when he spoke, was gentled.

“Zhou… Zhou Qinqin?” Xie Wu stammered, nearly choking on the words. Horror struck him. “Why is she here? Didn’t Ying Jiayi get rid of her—”

But thinking it through—after Ying Jiayi had kicked out her useless father and the second-generation parasite clinging to her, it made sense that Zhou Qinqin and her son had nowhere left to go.

And so they’d latched onto his brother instead.

Perfectly logical.

Realization brought him a sudden, helpless laugh. What kind of cursed fate was this?

Meanwhile, Zhou Qinqin had just received a call. Turning away slightly, she answered softly:

“Hello? Ah Zhou? Mama’s still out on business. Warm up the food in the fridge, all right? …Yes, yes, just use the microwave.”

Xie Kai’s eyes darkened, fastened on her slender back, the delicate line of her neck.

So—she even had a child.

Truth be told, that only whetted his appetite.

No one knew a brother like a brother. Xie Wu was already numb—he didn’t dare even glance at his brother’s expression now.

And to make matters worse, Gu Yang, with utter detachment, muttered aloud about how the brothers would one day be stripped of all their fortune, left wandering a snowy night without even a down coat.

Then he leaned close to Xie Wu’s ear and whispered: “I think your brother might be about to run into peach-blossom calamity. That woman.”

The warning was absurdly cryptic. But Xie Wu, knowing the backstory, felt oddly touched.

Gu Yang was warning him. Wasn’t that a kind of concern?

Still, if he didn’t step in, his brother would probably be daydreaming about naming their kids already. So Xie Wu rushed in decisively.

“What’s with Xiao Xie? In such a hurry,” He Ming’an remarked, arriving at Gu Yang’s side.

Gu Yang hadn’t expected Xie Wu to take his words so seriously. He shook his head.

But He Ming’an only glanced once and pieced it together. He didn’t press, just smiled. “Look who I brought.”

Gu Yang turned—and froze.

It was Song Yixing.

He clearly hadn’t expected him here, surprise written plainly on his face.

Patting his shoulder, He Ming’an said, “I need to go greet Old Master Nie. You two take care of yourselves.”

With him gone, the room suddenly felt quieter. Alone with Gu Yang, Song Yixing grew slightly self-conscious—the memory of Gu Yang’s panicked departure the day before still vivid.

“Why are you here?” Gu Yang asked.

“He Ming’an invited me. Said since we’re classmates, it’d be good to show support for a classmate’s grandfather’s birthday.” Even as he said it, Song Yixing felt the words absurd. Anyone else, fine—but this was Nie Ying.

He had no idea what He Ming’an’s deeper motive was, but as the one person who could sway the Nie family’s future, it made sense.

And, besides—Gu Yang was here.

He wasn’t really eighteen inside. His first thought, encountering this situation, was how to mend it.

Across the room, Xie Wu had already dragged his brother three miles away, thoroughly dousing the budding flames.

Xie Kai bristled at being shoved, ready to snap—until he saw it was his brother. He swallowed it back, though the mood was gone.

Zhou Qinqin’s face soured. She knew the opportunity had slipped.

“It’s too noisy here. Let’s go somewhere else,” Gu Yang tugged at Song Yixing’s sleeve, urging him to follow.

Gu Yang expertly opened a side door, leading him down a corridor into a quiet room.

Song Yixing trailed after, watching the casual swing of his movements, as if the awkwardness from yesterday had been wiped clean away.

Gu Yang flopped onto a sofa, limp and lazy, leaning back bonelessly.

Song Yixing had just started to sit beside him when voices sounded outside.

He instantly recognized Nie Ying’s among them, frowning. He had no desire to confront him here.

“Is there another way out?” he whispered.

Gu Yang didn’t know. He’d only asked a server earlier where he could rest.

But he too had heard Nie Ying’s voice. Glancing around, he tugged open a cabinet door at the back, ducked down, and pulled Song Yixing in with him, shutting it behind them.

Song Yixing hadn’t wanted to meet Nie Ying, but he hadn’t thought they needed to hide like this. He was about to protest—until he noticed the light slanting through the crack of the door.

Gu Yang’s lips curved, faintly excited.

Like a child who had found the perfect hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek.

Realizing he was indulging Gu Yang’s mischief, Song Yixing gave in helplessly.

Outside, the door slammed open with a kick. Nie Ying strode in, clearly in a foul temper. His cronies circled, trying in vain to cheer him up.

Just days ago, he’d been harshly scolded by his grandfather for his bullying at school, even cost his father his position. At the banquet today, everyone was fawning over his brother’s family, only souring his mood further.

Still, he dared not truly explode here, wary of eavesdropping ears.

“I could’ve sworn I just saw Song Yixing from Class Ten, brought in by He Ming’an,” one of his lackeys said, hoping to offer him an outlet.

Nie Ying sneered.

“What trash is He Ming’an dragging in here? What does he think this place is?”

“Exactly. That pauper Song Yixing—what right does he have to step in here? He’s lowering the tone,” another chimed in.

“Got lucky and tested into our school—he really thinks he’s our equal? With that gambling addict for a father, and a sickly mother who won’t last long—what future could he possibly have?”

Song Yixing listened calmly. He had heard words like these countless times. They no longer touched him, much less hurt.

But then—

A pair of cold hands gently covered his ears.

Gu Yang was shielding him from the sound.

In the dark, he couldn’t make out the other’s face clearly. Only the faint beam of light through the crack outlined his features.

Gu Yang’s palms pressed against his ears, but his eyes never left his.

Song Yixing’s heart sped up.

Having vented about him, Nie Ying wasn’t satisfied. He added Gu Yang to his curses: “And that Gu Yang—always strutting around like he’s somebody. What’s his backing? A bastard who doesn’t even know who his real father is.”

The words hit.

Before his mind could even register it, Song Yixing’s hands instinctively shot up—covering Gu Yang’s ears.