Chapter 9

Take nine bites.
“Tao-tao, over here.”
Miao-miao had arrived early and saved her a seat. When she saw Ying Tao, she lowered her voice and waved.
Their “Extinction Auntie” teacher was already in the room. Ying Tao slipped in right on the dot, hunched low, and snuck in through the back door.
Panting, she whispered, “Did she take attendance?”
Miao-miao whispered back, “Not yet. You’re lucky. Extinction has no idea what possessed her today—she said she’s not taking attendance.”
“Thank god.”
The moment Ying Tao got out of the car, she’d sprinted. She rushed all the way here, only to see Extinction’s figure flash into the classroom at the entrance of the teaching building.
She ran up five flights of stairs in one go. Now her chest felt like it was boiling. She panted hard, cheeks flushed hot, sweat beading on her forehead. Her eyes were glazed with a thin layer of mist.
Miao-miao pressed a hand to her chest and sighed dramatically. “Tao-tao, you’re panting like this and my phantom limb is getting hard.”
Ying Tao shot her a look and couldn’t be bothered responding. She just focused on slowing her breathing.
“Tao-tao, drink some water,” someone said softly.
The hand holding out the bottle was clean and slender. The voice was gentle and clear.
Ying Tao froze for a beat and followed the hand upward.
Lu Ziyue stood there, neat and refined, wearing a mild smile.
She’d come in too fast and hadn’t even noticed he was here.
“Thanks.” Ying Tao took the bottle.
Lu Ziyue smiled. Ying Tao turned her head and asked with her eyes why he was here.
Miao-miao shrugged. When no one was paying attention, she leaned closer and whispered, “Don’t even ask. You didn’t go to the birthday party last night, right? Tang Mingfei got all dressed up and went to act cute in front of Senior Lu. And guess what? Senior Lu looked like she scared him. The second she flirted, he bolted.”
Then Miao-miao teased, “A guy as pure as Senior Lu is rare these days. Tao-tao, are you really not tempted?”
Ying Tao shook her head. “I don’t feel anything.”
Miao-miao thought for a second. “Fair. Senior Lu is great in every way—except he’s too much of a nice guy. Zero boundaries. A soft, delicate peach like you needs someone with a strong possessive streak. The kind of seductive, top-tier hunter who knows exactly how to reel you in.”
Ying Tao blinked. “A… seductive hunter?”
“Easy,” Miao-miao said. “Someone with a total player face, but with a single target. Someone who hooks you bit by bit until you’re caught.”
Taking advantage of Extinction not looking, Miao-miao lowered her head, flipped through her phone, and showed Ying Tao a picture.
“Like this. Don’t you think this ‘He God’ type is insanely hot?”
In the photo, the man sat with his head slightly lowered. His white shirt was soaked in places, clinging to the line of his waist. Hard abs showed faintly through the fabric. His black suit pants were pulled taut by the bend of his legs—long legs with nowhere to put them.
In half-light and shadow, his sharp features were carved out cleanly. Those distinctive phoenix eyes were lowered, gaze cold—cold and yet unbearably tempting.
“It’s last month’s Vogue cover,” Miao-miao whispered. “That issue sold out everywhere. Sales exploded and broke Vogue’s record.”
Miao-miao sighed. “I didn’t even manage to get one. Oh—wait.”
She suddenly remembered. “Tao-tao, don’t you have some connections in the industry? Any chance you can help me get concert tickets for He God?”
Ying Tao rubbed the tip of her nose, suddenly feeling guilty.
She didn’t have industry connections.
She just happened to be very familiar with He Mingye himself.
Miao-miao clung to her arm and begged in a tiny voice, “Tao-tao? Sweet Tao-tao, my dearest precious Tao-tao, please. Help me. I can pay double.”
He Mingye’s studio fought scalpers hard, so it was difficult to get tickets from resellers. You had to compete on speed—only to find his tickets were worth a fortune and still impossible to grab.
Last week, Miao-miao had recruited more than ten classmates to help click at the same time. They’d all failed.
Miao-miao shook her so hard Ying Tao’s head spun. Her tooth already hurt; now she felt even worse.
In the end, she gave in. “Fine. I’ll ask.”
After class, Ying Tao opened WeChat.
He Mingye’s avatar was a pure black background with a single K on it—flashy, wild, arrogant to the extreme.
She hesitated for a moment, backed out, and opened Zhou Lubai’s chat instead.
Little Bai, little Bai, are you there? (peach propping chin)
…
Zhou Lubai had just come down from the shooting range. He couldn’t hit the bullseye, so he decided to give up entirely.
“I’m done, I’m done. Boring.”
Ying Baiqing took off his earmuffs too, smiling. “Haven’t practiced in a long time. I’m rusty.”
Zhou Lubai stared at him. “Rusty? You basically ground me into the dirt.”
Then he frowned, puzzled. “But… what’s wrong with Young Master? He never shoots this viciously.”
They’d all grown up around military academies. Even if they didn’t go into the system, basic marksmanship was no problem. They’d been exposed to it since their teens, and they’d all been tossed into the troops for training at some point.
Range practice like this was nothing to them—just a warm-up.
But He Mingye’s aim was the best. Shot after shot, dead center. If he’d wanted to go to a military academy, he would have left even Ying Baiqing in the dust.
Usually, the range was just a place to blow off steam, to vent pressure that had nowhere else to go.
But today—He Mingye shooting like he wanted to tear the targets apart—this was a first.
Ying Baiqing asked, “Maybe he’s under pressure from work lately. By the way… what happened to his hand?”
When He Mingye arrived, his hand was already injured, bandages obvious. He’d shot the entire time with his left hand.
Shen Minglin pushed up his glasses. “I heard there was a car accident last night. He hurt his hand.”
“A car accident?” Zhou Lubai was shocked. “With his driving, he can still get hit?”
He Mingye’s skills weren’t worse than his. To exaggerate, even if something came straight at him, He Mingye could dodge to the greatest extent possible.
Shen Minglin smiled, unfathomable. “That’s exactly the point. He wasn’t the one driving last night.”
Zhou Lubai was even more stunned. “With Young Master’s temper, he’d let someone touch his car? Come on.”
In the past, He Mingye did his own mods and tear-downs. His cars were basically all customized. Unless it was absolutely necessary, his private rides were never allowed to be touched.
“He won’t even let people sit in the passenger seat, and you’re telling me he handed the wheel to someone else?”
Zhou Lubai felt like he’d heard a fairy tale.
Shen Minglin glanced at him lightly. “Depends who it is.”
Zhou Lubai clicked his tongue. “Who could it be? Even someone with my weight can’t. I don’t believe there’s anyone who can make him lower his head.”
Even Zhou Lubai—his childhood friend—couldn’t get a single ride in He Mingye’s car. Who had that kind of power, that He Mingye would willingly give up his position—and even accept getting hurt for it?
Shen Minglin patted his shoulder. “Find time and go to your uncle’s hospital. Book neurology and cardiothoracic while you’re at it. Get checked early—see if you’re brain-dead or just lacking a heart.”
“You—”
Zhou Lubai was about to swear when his phone buzzed with a new message. He froze, then picked it up and raised a brow.
“Yo. Little Peach actually messaged me. Rare.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the gunfire stopped.
He Mingye took off his earmuffs and casually tossed the black pistol to the side.
Zhou Lubai blinked. “Young Master, you’re done?”
He Mingye didn’t seem to hear him. He unhurriedly took off his black gloves, one finger at a time, his eyes so cold it was almost frightening.
Zhou Lubai felt a chill run up his neck and instinctively shrank his shoulders.
Even Ying Baiqing frowned. “Tao-tao? What does she want you for?”
Zhou Lubai shrugged. “No idea.”
Shen Minglin lifted his chin slightly. “Ask.”
Zhou Lubai shrugged again and replied.
…
When Ying Tao received the reply, she’d just arrived at the cafeteria line. She typed back between steps.
After she got her food, Miao-miao pulled her to a remote corner and sat down.
The second they sat, Miao-miao leaned in, bursting with gossip.
“Hey, do you know why Tang Mingfei’s been clinging to Senior Lu lately?”
Ying Tao wasn’t interested, but she played along. “Why?”
“At first I thought she just wanted to mess with you,” Miao-miao whispered. “But last night, when they were celebrating Senior Lu’s birthday, didn’t a bunch of performance department people show up too?”
She lowered her voice even more. “A senior from performance told me—Senior Lu’s family isn’t just rich. His uncle is also a shareholder of Hengxing.”
“Hengxing, you know? The top entertainment company in the country.”
Miao-miao clicked her tongue. “I’m guessing she suddenly changed targets because she wants to use Senior Lu to get resources. Maybe after graduation she can sign with Hengxing.”
She sighed. “Honestly, she’s not wrong. People climb. Water flows. She’s just networking for herself. I’m the one with the small worldview.”
“Before, we only knew Senior Lu came from money. We didn’t realize his background was this hard. I heard his family already arranged for him to work at Hengxing. They call it an internship, but it’s really just a springboard—building experience.”
Miao-miao sighed again. “At least they have a road. We’re the ones who are screwed.”
In another year, they’d be graduating too. And by senior year, they’d need internships. Miao-miao still hadn’t found one.
She asked, “Tao-tao, what do you want to do after you graduate?”
Ying Tao paused.
After a long time, she answered, “I haven’t thought about it.”
Before eighteen, her goals had been clear. You could see the summit she was climbing toward at a glance.
Now… it felt like it didn’t matter what she did.
…
Back at the shooting range, Zhou Lubai—who had just been mercilessly crushed—still couldn’t figure it out. He bumped Shen Minglin with his elbow.
“Don’t you feel like Young Master’s in a really bad mood today? Like he’s been targeting me on purpose?”
Just now, He Mingye hadn’t said a word. He’d tossed him a gun and said coldly, “One match.”
How could Zhou Lubai beat him? He Mingye had nearly become a national shooting team seed athlete once. Ten rounds—never a miss. One match and Zhou Lubai felt like he’d been beaten into paste.
Shen Minglin looked at him with something like pity. “You’re not completely beyond saving.”
Zhou Lubai still couldn’t understand. “What did I even do to offend him? Don’t tell me it’s because I’m more handsome than he is, so he’s targeting me on purpose.”