The morning light, like a bolt of pale gold silk, spread across the numerous European-style spires of Linghui Academy.

Ling Chen walked along the smoothly polished pebble path, his steps unhurried, a smile on his face.

That’s right, he had once again arrived at Linghui Academy…

This demeanor was a stark contrast to the “devil” rumored to have acquired Chen Hao and his father’s company two days prior, causing a storm in the principal’s office.

Old Zhang, the security guard at the iron gate, instinctively straightened his back, stiffly raising his hand in a somewhat irregular salute: “Good morning, Ling Shao.”

His gaze flickered slightly as Ling Chen’s eyes swept over his brand-new uniform.

—Yesterday evening, a well-tailored, high-quality new security uniform had been placed at his post, unsigned, and he noticed that some teachers had become much more polite when entering the gate.

Now, wearing this uniform and facing the “giver,” a mix of awe and gratitude made his mouth dry.

“Good morning, Uncle Zhang, you’ve worked hard.” Ling Chen’s voice was warm and gentle, even carrying a reassuring, faint smile. The moment their eyes met, Old Zhang felt his heart clench as if by an invisible hand, and he hastily lowered his head.

That smile was polite, a standard display of upbringing for a scion of high society, yet it was also like a bottomless cold pool, revealing no emotions at its depths.

Entering the teaching building’s long corridor, the previous day’s clamor, filled with various gazes and discussions, abruptly quieted.

It wasn't the disciplined silence before the class bell, but a breathless stillness, a dead silence as if some of the air had been drawn out.

A few girls carrying homework books were walking along, giggling, their laughter abruptly ceasing when they saw the figure at the end of the corridor.

One of the girls, wearing a flaxen silk flower hair clip, dropped her books in a panic. She instinctively squatted to pick them up, her fingers clumsy and disobedient from nervousness.

Ling Chen did not stop, walking directly to her. His tall figure cast a shadow over her.

The girl’s shoulders hunched in fright.

However, he merely bent down gracefully, extending his well-defined, clean, and flawless hand, slowly and methodically gathering all the books, while precisely picking up the silk flower hair clip that had rolled to his feet. The sapphire-encrusted “dewdrop” shimmered with tiny glints in the morning light.

“Here.” He gently placed the hair clip back into the girl’s slightly trembling palm, his fingertips not even touching her skin.

“No need to rush so much next time, there’s still plenty of time.”

His voice was not loud, but it clearly carried throughout the quiet corridor.

The girl stared blankly at the cold metal petals in her palm, then blankly lifted her head to look at Ling Chen’s impeccably handsome profile, so close to her. The familiar Ling family crest embroidered on his cuff reminded her of his identity.

The terrifying words like “devil,” “madman,” and “thug” that had been swirling in her mind a moment ago now seemed incredibly pale and absurd in the face of his gentle smile and impeccable manners, mixing into an incomprehensible fog that clogged her chest.

“Th-thank you, Ling Shao…” She almost whispered her thanks, her cheeks burning.

Ling Chen nodded slightly, his lips still holding that perfect curve, and walked directly towards the classroom for Senior Class Three, leaving behind a wake of countless complex, unreadable gazes—fear receded slightly, replaced by surging confusion: What kind of person was he, really?

Pushing open the classroom door, a deliberately feigned “normal” atmosphere greeted him.

Some students were reading aloud, others were whispering to each other. But when Ling Chen’s figure appeared at the doorway, all sounds seemed to be muted.

Forty-seven pairs of eyes instantly focused on him, carrying the lingering inertia of fear, but more so, uncertainty: What would he… do today?

Ling Chen seemed oblivious to the brief silence, walking directly to his corner seat.

His gaze swept over the desk—the desk that had been carved with “Get Out” and smeared with glaring red paint yesterday, was now spotless, even faintly reflecting the morning light from outside.

A strong smell of formaldehyde from new paint and a pungent fragrance mixed together, trying hard to cover up yesterday’s unpleasantness, but instead making it seem like a clumsy attempt at concealment.

In the middle of the desk, in a crystal-clear glass vial, were a few freshly cut white camellias. Their petals were as pure as snow, their edges still damp with morning dew, clearly placed there by someone who had rushed in the early morning.

Ling Chen blinked, finding it quite interesting. He reached out, his fingers tracing a delicate petal, his movements always subtly elegant.

(These attempts to curry favor…)

He scoffed inwardly.

What kind of peace could they buy before the apocalypse?

He glanced at his watch. Only six hours remained until the apocalypse. He was attending school today not to do anything, but to… retrieve an “item.”

This item had given him happiness akin to heaven, and also made him experience unimaginable pain.

During lunch at the school cafeteria, Ling Chen felt a faint, lingering gaze. He feigned an unintentional glance and couldn't help but smile.

The “item” had arrived.

Mu Xi’s mood was incredibly complex at this moment. She looked at Ling Chen, who was eating not far away, and felt that this world was too crazy.

This 18-year-old boy, who had been so distraught when his parents passed away three days ago, had somehow evaded the team of international “cleaners” that his father, Mu Zhengyang, had sent at great expense after learning the news from a servant he had infiltrated into the Ling Corporation, hoping to eliminate future troubles.

But Ling Chen, by some unknown method, had managed to escape.

And within just two days, he had completely reclaimed all of Ling Corporation’s assets, and was even showing a tendency to expand further.

Most importantly, he had also turned the tables on the Mu family. In the past two days, Mu Zhengyang had been swamped with work. But in the end, due to some financial and technical deficits, he was unable to compensate for the losses he had incurred.

This morning, Mu Zhengyang had sternly told her that she needed to re-establish contact with Ling Chen and build a good relationship with him, but she had a terrible headache, because judging by Ling Chen’s current trajectory, he must have already known the truth about the Mu family betraying the Ling Corporation.

However, Mu Xi was at a loss. This genius girl, who had won global biology awards, was ultimately lacking in the realm of human relations.

Time flew by, and soon it was evening.

The setting sun, like molten gold, dyed the spires of Linghui Academy’s European buildings a fiery orange.

The bell for the last class rang, and the corridor gradually filled with the characteristic clamor of teenagers.

Ling Chen was unhurriedly putting a thick book into his backpack, his well-defined fingers moving steadily and gracefully, as if the surrounding noise was separated from him by an invisible barrier.

The classroom door was gently knocked, the sound not loud, yet carrying a peculiar penetrative quality that instantly silenced the boys roughhousing at the doorway.

Mu Xi stood at the doorway, the sunset casting a hazy glow on her chestnut curls.

She seemed to have meticulously arranged her appearance; her lips were rosy, and her eyes and brows deliberately carried a hint of the slightly shy anticipation unique to young girls. But deep within her amber pupils, the carefully concealed calculation and a barely perceptible tension were undeniable in the interplay of light and shadow.

“A’Chen.”

Her voice was deliberately softened, with a slightly coquettish lilt at the end.

“Tonight… are you free?”

She leaned against the doorframe, her slender fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her clothes, her movements so natural as if rehearsed a thousand times.

“My father… Uncle Mu wants to invite you… um, and me too, to have a casual meal at our house.”

When she mentioned “Uncle Mu,” her words paused subtly, clearly unsure of what to say.

Her small white hands nervously rubbed together, and by the end, her voice grew softer and softer, almost imperceptible, as if she herself had no confidence in what she was asking.

However, Ling Chen continued to arrange his backpack as if he hadn’t heard anything. His motion of zipping up the backpack was smooth and steady, the sliding sound of the metal zipper exceptionally clear in the corner of the classroom.

After five or six minutes, he finally looked up, an impeccable, gentle smile on his face, his eyes like a spring immersed in warm jade, clear and mild.

“Uncle Mu is too kind.” Ling Chen’s voice was gentle and polite, carrying the distant yet not stiff demeanor characteristic of a scion of a prominent family.

He stood up, his figure, which was more than half a head taller than Mu Xi, cast a shadow with a hint of oppressive presence, but his tone was as calm as if discussing the day’s weather.

“However, the chef at home recently acquired some excellent truffles and white asparagus. Such rare ingredients, it’s a perfect opportunity to invite you two over to sample them together.”

He turned slightly, making a “please” gesture.

“Rather than having Uncle Mu make the trip, why don’t I host a small gathering at my humble abode? What do you think, Mu Xi?”

Mu Xi’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the words “small gathering at my humble abode,” and a strange chill crept up her spine.

She looked at Ling Chen’s face, so close and impeccably handsome, the gentle and harmless smile at the corner of his lips now colder than an ice blade in her eyes.

He had refused her father’s invitation, and instead proactively invited them to the Ling family’s deep mansion… This was no coincidence, absolutely not!

“Of course… of course, that’s fine.”

Her voice carried a faint tremor that she herself didn’t notice, and her smile seemed a little stiff.

“A’Chen, you can arrange it.”

She quickly lowered her eyelids, not daring to meet those deep, dark eyes that seemed to pierce through people’s hearts. A terrifying intuition, like prey being secretly targeted by a top predator, made her fingertips turn cold.

“Then it’s settled.”

Ling Chen’s smile deepened slightly, but the depths of his eyes were like the perpetual night of deep winter, devoid of any light.

He thoughtfully extended his hand, his movements utterly gentlemanly, as if merely to brush away non-existent stray hairs from her forehead, but his fingertips paused mere millimeters from her skin, ultimately only gently tidying her slightly disheveled collar.

That gentle touch, however, made the hairs on the back of Mu Xi’s neck stand on end.

“Before sunset, I’ll have the driver pick you both up at your residence.” He withdrew his hand, his tone still gentle, “I hope tonight, host and guests will enjoy themselves.”

“O-okay.” Mu Xi almost hastily agreed, quickly saying “See you later,” then turned and hurried away from the classroom doorway, her retreating figure betraying a difficult-to-hide panic.

Casual meal?

A cold mockery flashed through Ling Chen’s heart, but his face showed no trace of it.

After saying this, Mu Xi turned and hurried away from the classroom doorway, her retreating figure carrying an undeniable panic, disappearing at the end of the noisy corridor.

Ling Chen stood still, watching her figure disappear.

The “item” had been retrieved.

The smile on his lips instantly froze. His right hand, which had just tidied her collar, loosely clenched, his fingertips seemingly still retaining the faint tremor of Mu Xi’s fear, transmitted through the air.

Host and guests enjoying themselves?

Heh heh.

Ling Chen smiled as he called his driver, instructing the head chef to arrange the food.

...