Chapter 10
[Romance of the Century: Shi Ye’s Clumsy Courtship—Drawing Hearts on the Special Recruit’s Bed.]
1st Floor: [ Black Pigeon Gossip News — Frontline warriors have tasted the first sip of tea! This morning, after a failed courtship attempt, Shi Ye flew into a rage. He kept the Special Recruit alone in the villa and told everyone else to scramble! (He told everyone else to scramble, hey. If that isn’t creating a world for just the two of them, what is?)]
2nd Floor: [Unfortunately, heaven didn’t grant his wish. Leon rushed in, furious for the sake of a beauty, and snatched the Special Recruit away in his LaFerrari. (Leon von Löwenstein has also joined this saga of love and hate. Is our school about to stage an F4 brawl over the Special Recruit?)]
3rd Floor: [Shi Ye felt deeply humiliated, so he sent someone with a bucket of red paint to draw a heart on the Special Recruit’s bed. (He even drew a heart; can marriage be far off?)]
4th Floor: [At the end of the story, attached is a photo taken by a warrior of Leon von Löwenstein changing the bed for the Special Recruit. (Pictures or it didn’t happen.)]
The frontline reporter had hidden at the end of the corridor to take the shot secretly with a phone. The lighting was poor, revealing only the vague silhouettes of one tall person and one short person.
Leon, naturally, needed no description. Born into a family of political dignitaries and schooled in etiquette since childhood, one could never find fault in his bearing, no matter the time or place.
5th Floor: [Next to Senior Leon, the Special Recruit looks like a dog.]
Stories of “Beauty and the Beast” always attracted attention, and the heat of this thread quickly surpassed the recruitment posts for both the new and old Tennis Clubs.
…
The bustle belonged to the hours long past. At this moment, the entire Floriman Academy had dissolved into pitch blackness, and most people were already asleep.
Shi Ye had just stepped out of the bathroom.
The one-way glass reflected a tall, sturdy figure with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, the groove of his spine disappearing into the bath towel.
While towel-drying his hair, he stared intently at his phone. A person wearing a white T-shirt and jeans occupied the screen—body leaning back slightly, back hunched, head lowered. Strands of hair clung to the slender, bent neck, extending into a line that divided light from shadow.
Why does he look so dull?
Like a foolish child called into the teacher’s office for the first time—not knowing what mistake he made, not knowing what to do, his two hands twisting nervously in front of him.
Shi Ye looked down at this photo for several minutes, settled comfortably onto the sofa, and clicked save, unaware that the corners of his mouth had curved upward.
He opened the album to continue admiring it, but when the full picture popped up, his sharp brows furrowed.
Click edit. Crop out Leon.
When the photo was reduced to a long, vertical strip containing only one person, a blush crept up his cheeks, making the scratches on his nose bridge and cheekbones feel scorching hot.
Shi Ye touched his neck, his expression changing abruptly as he suddenly stood up.
Fuck!
What am I doing?
Scared, he tossed the phone aside and paced around the sofa pretending nothing had happened, craning his neck to look around as if touring a museum.
Finally, reality hit him—there was no one else in the room.
His heart, pounding like a drum, refused to calm down. He sat back on the sofa and picked up the phone again.
He didn’t dare look at the photo anymore, so he instinctively opened his contact list to deal with messages.
An hour ago, Leon had sent a message of accusation: [I told you to go down and test him, not chase him down and beat him.]
Shi Ye pondered for a few seconds before making a major decision.
His fingers tapped coldly, hitting send: [Oh.]
Leon replied instantly: [What was the result?]
[Still very cowardly. No potential. I think you can give up observing him.]
After hitting send, Shi Ye’s ears were filled with the thumping of his own heart. He rubbed his hair, acting like a rash young boy who had just confessed his love and was waiting for an answer, staring at the “Typing…” notification next to the avatar while swallowing hard.
Leon: [Oh.]
What does “Oh” mean?
You typed for so long just to say “Oh”?
Did you give up observing or not?
Shi Ye: [The Special Recruit is so poor it makes me laugh. Those glasses have been used for at least ten years, right? The temple arms are loose; did you see that?]
Leon: [Going to sleep. Goodnight.]
!!!
Fuck.
Shi Ye almost jumped up. Just then, a new chat window popped up at the top of the screen.
Qi Yuan: [Brother Shi, Zhao Zeryang is saying on the forum that joining his Tennis Club comes with an invitation to the GMI Year-End Gala.]
Shi Ye was currently annoyed to death; he had no mood to care about any Zhao Zeryang, Zhang Zeryang, or Liu Zeryang.
[Let him be. Don’t bother me.]
Qi Yuan: [Okay.]
Shi Ye couldn’t guess Leon’s thoughts and wished he could run to Leon’s dorm, knock on the door, and ask him directly.
Of course, that wasn’t realistic.
“What do you think of that Special Recruit…” “Did you know that without glasses, the Special Recruit is actually…”
The typing stopped there.
Forget it.
Even if Leon knew, it didn’t matter.
Having known him for so many years, Shi Ye understood Leon. Leon didn’t like stupid people. Wen Rong was so dumb; what interest could Leon possibly have in him?
Thinking of that blockhead’s appearance, Shi Ye buried half his face in his palm, hiding a smile that was stretching to his ears.
How can someone grow up looking like that?
He looks exactly like my cat.
No, I can’t think about it anymore.
This was the umpteenth time Shi Ye had stopped himself from recalling Wen Rong’s face.
He opened the Black Pigeon forum, attempting to divert his attention.
It was still that gossip thread from earlier.
6th Floor: [I can’t stand it for even a minute longer. On what basis does a commoner get to study in the same school as me? Breathing the same air as him makes me nauseous.]
7th Floor: [The cuffs of his jeans are fraying. Looks like he picked them out of a garbage dump.]
The words Shi Ye used to provoke Wen Rong earlier weren’t technically wrong. Every time the school announced the recruitment of a Special Recruit, they would receive millions of complaint letters.
After all, millions of peers worldwide were fighting for the 300 seats at Floriman Academy. A Special Recruit who entered with absolutely no barrier was viewed by commoners exactly as they viewed “privileged users”—occupying their benefits, possessing a position their virtues didn’t merit.
8th Floor: [Don’t pay attention to what the gossip warrior wrote up top. In reality, Shi Ye is genuinely targeting the Special Recruit. As the backbone of the movement to cleanse the campus, I have decided to actively join the New Tennis Club, expand Shi Ye’s team, and strive to ensure the Special Recruit doesn’t last until the end of the opening ceremony.]
9th Floor: [+1]
10th Floor: [+1]
Seeing himself inexplicably becoming the main force of the “Down with Wen Rong” movement, Shi Ye suddenly sat up straight. He deleted the name “Shi Ye” from the alias box, changed it to a string of garbled code, and typed rapidly:
[The Special Recruit can help boost your reputation among the commoner circles. What are you dissatisfied with?]
12th Floor: [So what, should I kneel and thank him?]
13th Floor: [Is the opinion of commoners important?]
14th Floor: [Hey kid, dare to use your real name? See if Shi Ye doesn’t kill you.]
Shi Ye: …
15th Floor: [Putting everything else aside, haven’t any of you noticed the Special Recruit is actually quite good-looking? I work in the film industry; my judgment of people is accurate.]
Garbled Code: [Are you blind?]
After the message was sent, Shi Ye froze.
What am I doing?
Why did I deny the fact that Wen Rong is good-looking?
17th Floor: [Whether he’s good-looking or not, is it up to you to say? If he really was good-looking, would I not see it?]
18th Floor: [Exactly. Would I fail to see if he was handsome?]
19th Floor: [Does it matter what he looks like? The point is to make the Special Recruit drop out. Just because school rules forbid violence doesn’t mean we can’t trip him up in private.]
…
After sending this message, Qi Yuan sat up in bed, opened the Black Pigeon campus-wide directory, and began investigating every family involved in the film industry from beginning to end.
Wen Rong, a flower hidden so well, known only to him… clean, growing freely in the forest, uncontaminated by the smoke and fire of the world…
Qi Yuan pondered solemnly and seriously what variety his flower was.
Lotus?
Not something that flamboyant.
Orchid?
Didn’t seem quite that lofty and aloof.
It was like… a White Magnolia.
Planted in a temple, or deep within an old residence, growing with elegant tranquility.
Thinking of Wen Rong, every cell in his body awakened. Qi Yuan quickly scrambled to the head of the bed and took a silk handkerchief from an exquisite box.
The spot stained by tears had wrinkled.
He bowed his head piously to kiss it, a breath of hot air escaping from between his lips.
The handkerchief warmed up, feeling like real skin. If he cupped it in his hands to kiss it, and then wickedly sucked on it, everyone would see the marks on those cheeks and know—he belonged to him.
Who was it that stole a glance at his little Jade Magnolia without him knowing?
Need to be calm. Only by being calm can I find the thief.
The infatuated gaze turned steely. Qi Yuan put down the handkerchief that recharged him, his chest rising slightly as he held his breath.
Slowly, the sensation of hypoxia became intense, flooding from his nasal cavity to his brain, scattering his mind.
Finally, he was thoroughly calm.
He returned to the computer, rows of names scrolling through his pupils.
From time to time, he opened the forum, waiting for the 15th Floor to speak again.
The more they spoke, the easier it would be to expose their identity.
He must know who the 15th Floor was.
Ding—
Suddenly, someone in the thread specifically replied to his post.
Garbled Code: [Dumbass.]
Qi Yuan: ?
He scrolled back to look at this user with the garbled ID and realized this person was also on Wen Rong’s side.
Qi Yuan felt like he was facing a formidable enemy. He typed a reply: [Brother, I know you’re anxious, but don’t be anxious yet. Do you… like the Special Recruit? Then next time Shi Ye looks for trouble with the Special Recruit, you can go ahead and stand up to get beaten alongside him.]
[That is, if you dare to go against Shi Ye?]
…
“Fuck!”
Shi Ye jumped up from the sofa, spinning around the room like a headless fly.
The Young Master, who always did as he pleased and reigned supreme, felt the profound pain of “reputation damage” for the first time in his life.
He was exploding with rage!
Damn it, he had to know who this 19th Floor was.
And the 14th Floor, birds of a feather with that 19th Floor.
What beating? What isolation? He clearly only kicked Wen Rong’s butt lightly. Just twice! Only twice!
And… the 15th Floor.
Shi Ye’s pace slowed.
The complex feeling he had harbored since earlier—not wanting Leon to know what Wen Rong looked like—finally materialized: It’s not just me who discovered Wen Rong. I have potential enemies.
Who exactly was the 15th Floor?
The only person he knew in the film industry was Qi Yuan, but it couldn’t be Qi Yuan. Whenever the Special Recruit was mentioned, Qi Yuan’s emotions were even more agitated than his own; he wished Wen Rong would drop out immediately.
Shi Ye wanted to know who the 15th Floor was so badly. He racked his brain for a long time, then suddenly remembered that the Student Council had administrator privileges for the Black Pigeon system. An administrator could definitely see who the anonymous accounts were from the backend.
Shi Ye sat back on the sofa, puffing out his cheeks to blow out two breaths, and called Qi Yuan.
“Brother Shi, what are your orders?”
Shi Ye froze upon hearing the reply, glanced at the time on his laptop, and asked subconsciously, “Haven’t slept yet?”
“…Just laid down. Picked up when I heard it ring. Is there something urgent?”
Since the call was already made, Shi Ye didn’t dwell on the issue of waking someone up in the middle of the night. He cut straight to the point: “Arrange a car for tomorrow morning. Come with me to the Student Council.”
“Is it for the New Tennis Club’s establishment process? Recruitment is the day after tomorrow; isn’t it a bit bad to do it a day early?”
“I’m going to…” Shi Ye’s voice cut off abruptly.
Wouldn’t saying he was going to check who the anonymous users were make people suspicious?
“Nothing bad about it. It’s not like I’m going to lose to Zhao Zeryang. Go to sleep.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Brother Shi.”
Qi Yuan hung up the phone, a trace of disgust flashing through his bloodshot eyes.
18 years old, yet still fighting over winning and losing like a child. Childish.
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