“Try to keep your forearms perpendicular to the floor with the Smith machine. Good, maintain that form.”
Monday night, South District.
In a fitness gym styled with a Syrian aesthetic, Jiao Tan—or rather, Arakawa Kyoshi—was coaching Yan Huan through a bench press workout.
“Huff… huff… huff…”
“Alright, stop. That’s the last set. For now, stick to this rhythm—five sets per exercise, 12 to 15 reps each, pushing to failure,” Jiao Tan instructed.
Despite the encouragent, Yan Huan rolled off the machine looking utterly defeated. Kneeling on the ground, he clutched his arms, grimacing at the sharp pain radiating through them.
“Ugh…” he hissed.
Without the Naked Form ability activated, the enhanced efficiency from his training was wreaking havoc on his body. The intense pain was bad enough, but Yan Huan could feel that if this continued, he might end up injured—or worse, disabled.
Looking up at Jiao Tan, whose muscular physique seed carved from stone, Yan Huan asked weakly, “Jiao Tan-sensei, is there any way I can train at ho instead?”
Jiao Tan handed him a cup of water and asked, “You don’t want to co to the gym? Yaqiao said this place isn’t far from your house, and it’s pretty affordable. The equipnt works fine, and the place has stayed in business despite the shabby decor.”
It wasn’t about the gym itself. Yan Huan was fine with the facilities, even if they were sowhat barebones. What he couldn’t handle was the gym’s rule plastered on the wall: “No Training Shirtless.”
It was a rule Yan Huan had fully supported in the past, but now it felt like a personal curse. Smiling awkwardly, he explained, “It’s not that. I just have a part-ti job, so it’d be more convenient to train at ho when I’m free.”
Jiao Tan nodded, understanding. “You can train at ho by focusing on muscle groups. I’ll send you so no-equipnt workout videos you can follow. But as a beginner, you’ll be fine doing that for now. To make real progress later, you’ll need a gym—and proper nutrition, or your efforts will go to waste.”
He gestured toward the cardio area. “You could also do so cardio with Yaqiao to lose so fat.”
Taking note of his advice, Yan Huan nodded, struggling to his feet. “Got it. Thanks, Jiao Tan-sensei.”
“No problem…” the usually introverted Jiao Tan replied, glancing toward the treadmills. He spotted Yaqiao Mu sprawled beside one, looking like he’d run himself into oblivion.
Yan Huan sat down to catch his breath and check his phone.
Yuanyue Student Council General Managent Group
You Anlina: “Phew, finally done! The list of students without clubs and the recomnded clubs for them are all sorted. The transfer students didn’t list any interests, so no recomndations for them.”
Yan Huan: “Got it. Thanks for your hard work.”
Cat emoji: “Thanks!”
You Anlina: “Hehe~”
Opening the attached file, Yan Huan scanned through the list. While there were only a few dozen nas across all grades, so stood out imdiately:
Year 1
Bai Yi: No club. Interest: Singing. Suggested: Choir, Light Music Club.
An Le: No club. Interest: ACG. Suggested: Ani Club, Gaming Club.
Aria Spencer: No club. Interest: None. Suggested: Track and Field Club.
Year 2
Ye Shiyu: No club. Interest: None. Suggested: None.
Great, none of them joined a club. No wonder they’re all Modifier hosts—they’re all hiding talents in plain sight.
Bai Yi’s absence was easy to explain; her frequent absences from school left her no ti for club activities. An Le, on the other hand, fell into the socially isolated category—likely a result of being an “outsider” in Yuanyue’s predominantly elite C-Class.
Yan Huan narrowed his eyes at the transfer students. Ye Shiyu was predictable. But Spencer…
Her na was highlighted and flagged by the principal’s office, suggesting she join the Track and Field Club. Classic Hers move. Probably another sche.
Regardless, both Spencer and Bai Yi were set to attend the study group tomorrow, and An Le would be easy to find since she was in the sa grade.
For now, Yan Huan decided to contact Ye Shiyu. Leaving the gym, he stepped into the neon-lit South District night and called her on Plane.
In the Ye family mansion in Jinghe District, Ye Shiyu was engrossed in sewing when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, intending to ignore it until the na caught her eye:
“Xiao Huan.”
Blinking, she turned off the sewing machine and answered.
“Xiao—”
Before she could finish, the faint sound of honking, chatter, and distinctly flirtatious female voices ca through the line:
“Young man, want to have a drink with us?”
“ too,
too!”
“Hey, handso, my place is pretty nice. Want to check it out?”
Ye Shiyu’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes turned cold, and a faint purple glow emanated from the phone.
“Excuse , can I get through?”
Yan Huan’s voice broke through the chaos, calming her simring irritation.
“Xiao Huan?”
“Ah, sorry, Shiyu-jie. It was noisy just now. I’ll find a quieter spot.”
The background noise faded, replaced by Yan Huan’s steady voice. “How about now? Is this better?”
“Mm.”
Ye Shiyu’s gaze drifted to the half-finished piece on her sewing table—a tailored n’s jacket. Judging by the asurents, it could only fit one person she knew: Yan Huan.
Fingering the small, embroidered “Ye Shiyu” hidden in the collar, she asked, “Xiao Huan, where are you?”
“Just near ho, getting so exercise,” Yan Huan replied.
Her brow furrowed. “That area… isn’t it a bit unsafe? How about moving to our house for the week? Mom can pick you up.”
The suggestion wasn’t entirely altruistic. If Yan Huan stayed at their mansion, she could at least control the situation—even if it ant resorting to subtle hypnosis. It was better than leaving him exposed to random admirers.
“This area’s fine, Shiyu-jie,” Yan Huan countered firmly.
She hesitated. Her embroidered school uniform, which he still hadn’t returned, was proof of her overreach. If he’d noticed, bringing him closer might backfire spectacularly.
“...”
The silence stretched long enough that Yan Huan wondered if she was upset. But her even tone soon broke it:
“So, did you call for sothing specific?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile, explaining the school’s policy on club participation. “You’re on the list of students without a club, and since the Student Council is managing this, I wanted to ask if you have any preferences. I can make the arrangents for you.”
Ye Shiyu blinked, her expression softening. He’s always so considerate.
Standing up, she stretched out on her bed, her voice carrying a thoughtful tone.
“If I don’t join a club, can I join the Student Council instead?”
“...”
Yan Huan nearly choked. Straight to the top, huh?
But he quickly adjusted his tone, explaining with feigned regret, “Shiyu-jie, the positions for this term’s council were filled last sester. You’d have to wait for the next president’s term to apply.”
“Will you be president again next term?”
“I… probably not.” Yan Huan’s instincts told him denying was the safest answer.
“I see…” Ye Shiyu’s tone was unreadable, leaving Yan Huan unsure of her mood.
Outside the Gym
Yan Huan continued walking along the quieter side of the road, keeping his tone casual. “There are plenty of fun and interesting clubs at school, Shiyu-jie. Plus, with the Club Competition coming up, it’ll be an exciting event.”
Ye Shiyu had heard about the Club Competition from her classmate Yumi, whose boyfriend Owen was the president of the Track and Field Club. Yumi frequently ntioned how Owen was training tirelessly for the event.
“Xiao Huan, are you in a club?”
“Nope. I’m already busy enough as it is. But as Student Council President, I can visit any club. If you join one, Shiyu-jie, I’ll be sure to co see you.”
Among the Student Council’s leadership, only Yan Huan and Ying Gong Tong weren’t in any clubs. The others were active mbers:
Yaqiao Mu was in the Computer Club, notorious for being a haven for true otakus.
Aixi Li was in the Kendo Club, and by all accounts, a formidable force there.
You Anlina, ever the wildcard, was in the Model United Nations Club, where she excelled with her unique talent for spouting humorous proposals in multiple languages.
Yan Huan chuckled as he recalled her infamous “global kangaroo trade expansion” pitch—a grudge she apparently held since being kicked by a kangaroo during a family vacation.
“So, Shiyu-jie, do you have any special talents or interests?”
“Hmm… not really. I did take so classes before,” Ye Shiyu replied thoughtfully.
“What kind of classes?” Yan Huan asked, stepping into the alley next to the gym.
“Piano, guzheng, tea ceremonies, flower arranging, fine arts, embroidery, and…”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on…” Yan Huan stopped mid-sentence, his expression turning wary as a familiar sound caught his attention from the alley.
Click.
The unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking.
“Is it handled?”
A calm female voice asked.
“It’s handled, Sister Tong. One’s been shipped out of Linn; he’s on a boat headed for Jinbian Waters. Should arrive in a couple of weeks. As for the other…”
That voice. Yan Huan recognized it—it was the gym owner, soone Jiao Tan had greeted earlier.
“Stop. Don’t tell . Handle it however you want. Bury it, burn it, whatever—just don’t let the cops find out.”
“Got it. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
“Good. If the gym needs anything, let
know. I’m heading back.”
“Alright, take care, Sister Tong.”
Yan Huan stood frozen at the alley entrance, his phone still in hand. Through the haze of cigarette smoke, he saw the gym owner re-enter through the side door.
Left behind was a striking red-haired woman leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand. She glanced up just as she turned to leave, her gaze eting Yan Huan’s.
Their eyes locked for a split second.
The red-haired woman froze. Her lips parted slightly, and her cigarette fell from her mouth, extinguishing as it hit the ground.
“...”
“...”
Yan Huan quickly averted his gaze, pretending not to notice. Raising his voice, he spoke into his phone, “Well, Shiyu-jie, how about we discuss your club choice in person soti?”
He turned and headed back toward the gym, but the sound of high heels clicking faster behind him sent shivers down his spine.
Just as he broke into a jog, a firm grip seized his collar, yanking him back into the alley.
Thud!
Yan Huan found himself pinned against the wall, wide-eyed. Reflexively, he ended the call, leaving Ye Shiyu staring at her phone in confusion.
In the alley, Yan Huan forced a strained smile. “Ah, Sister Tong, fancy eting you here. What a coincidence…”
Tong Yingying, her red eyes narrowing dangerously, said nothing. She studied him in silence before tilting his chin up with a finger.
Her face moved closer, scrutinizing his expression like a judge assessing a suspect. Shadows of mistrust flickered in her eyes.
“Did you hear anything just now?”
Yan Huan blinked, his gaze involuntarily shifting to her lips, which bore a subtle gloss and a faint hint of tobacco. His throat went dry, and words montarily escaped him.
“...”
Suddenly, his phone rang again, its cheerful tone breaking the tension.
Ding-ding-ding!
The caller ID read: Shiyu-jie.
At An Le’s Ho
anwhile, in Loqiao District, An Le’s parents sat in amazent, watching the golden-haired Spencer devour bowl after bowl of rice.
“Oh my, this child eats so much! Here, have another serving.”
An Le’s father watched in silent astonishnt, while her mother muttered, “This is definitely going on a short video platform with captions: ‘Daughter’s classmate ate five bowls of rice!’”
“Burp~”
Spencer set down her bowl with a satisfied sigh, patting her stomach. Having no skill with chopsticks, she had shoveled food with a spoon, and the hostyle dishes were perfect for her appetite.
“Delicious!”
“I’m glad you liked it! Co over anyti, and Auntie will cook for you again,” An Le’s mother said warmly. “An Le, clear the table, please.”
“Okay, okay…”
As An Le began cleaning up, Spencer rose to help, but her mother waved her off. “Oh, no, no. Sit down, sit down. An Le will take care of it.”
“Alright…”
And so, Spencer plopped back into her seat, patting her stomach contentedly while An Le’s mother chuckled softly.
In the kitchen, An Le’s mother smiled. “Foreign kids are so straightforward—no polite pretenses like us.”
“She’s not from the Dragon Empire or even Linn! She can’t even use chopsticks!” An Le replied with a laugh.
“She’s still a good kid, though.”
Her mother rolled up her sleeves and shooed her daughter away. “Alright, let your dad do the dishes. If you’ve finished your howork, go play with your friend.”
Returning to the living room, An Le called out, “Dad! Mom says you’re washing the dishes!”
Her father, halfway to the couch and TV remote in hand, grumbled, “Again? I cooked, didn’t I? Tell your mom to do it!”
“She says she’s not feeling well~”
“You’re never feeling well!” he retorted but trudged to the kitchen regardless, muttering, “I’m charging 50 per dish. I need a new fishing rod…”
Watching the lively banter, Spencer followed An Le to her room, still deep in thought.
“Co on, I’ll show you my pets. I’ve also got so gas!”
“...Alright.”
Inside, Spencer lay on An Le’s bed while An Le stretched comfortably in front of her computer.
“Want to see my gecko?”
Spencer glanced at the tank, paled, and shook her head furiously. “No!”
“Aw, they’re cute! Don’t be scared~”
“Not scared! Just… not interested!”
“Wanna play a ga?”
Spencer eyed the outdated PC, realizing it wouldn’t handle her favorite 3D racing gas. “Nah, you play.”
Shrugging, An Le sat at her desk. Sensing Spencer’s unusual quietness, she turned.
“Sorry if my house is boring, Spencer.”
“It’s not your fault,” Spencer said, rolling over irritably—only to spot a photo on the nightstand.
The picture showed two adorable children: a cheerful young Yan Huan and a shy An Le clinging to his shirt.
Spencer perked up, picking up the fra for a closer look.
“H-hey, Spencer! You can’t—”
An Le quickly snatched the photo back and clutched it to her chest, her face flushed with embarrassnt.
Spencer, unfazed, turned her attention to the blushing An Le, her expression puzzled.
“Is it that precious?”
“Of course! This, along with that bookmark, is one of a kind. It’s the only photo I have with Xiao Huan…”
Spencer raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical.
“You… no, all of you. Don’t you think you like that Yan Huan a bit too much?”
She leaned back on the bed, arms crossed, her piercing gaze fixed on An Le.
“Other than being good-looking, what else does he have going for him? He’s sharp-tongued and surly. Every girl at school who talks about him ends up like you, acting all weird. I bet he got elected Student Council President just because of his face, right?”
“That’s not true at all!”
An Le’s voice rose as she hurried to defend him.
“The election process for the presidency is very rigorous. Sure, at first, so people voted for Xiao Huan because of his looks, but after all the debates, exams, and activities, he proved himself beyond any doubt!”
Setting the photo back on the nightstand, she looked Spencer in the eye and added firmly,
“Xiao Huan isn’t just so nice guy who smiles at everyone. When it counts, he’s tough and dependable. Last sester, during the final debate, he completely crushed the second- and third-year candidates. He made one of them cry right there!”
She hesitated, then continued,
“Yuanyue Academy is full of students from wealthy families, like you, Spencer. For soone like Xiao Huan to earn their respect? That’s not sothing you can do with looks alone.”
Spencer blinked, unimpressed. She still didn’t understand why everyone seed so obsessed with Yan Huan. Sure, he was good-looking—she’d give him that—but beyond that?
If anything, her interactions with him were rooted in annoyance. His sharp gaze, his scolding tone—it should’ve driven her mad. Yet, instead of anger, she found herself smirking.
Let them hate . That was fine. With the Plunder System in her hands, the more those polished, admired people despised her, the better.
Still, watching An Le’s flushed face, Spencer tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Ah, I get it now. It’s the ‘hidden depth’ thing, isn’t it? All sweet and harmless on the surface but a totally different person underneath.”
“That’s not it at all!”
An Le, thoroughly flustered, puffed out her cheeks. “Spencer, I already told you! Stop reading those weird books! They’re ruining you!”
“Huh?!”
Spencer, indignant, pulled out her ever-present black bag and flipped to a specific page of Pure Ballet.
“But isn’t that exactly what you ant? All smiles and harmlessness on the surface, but secretly…”
An Le was speechless. Spencer had clearly only learned a few terms but was already misusing them with reckless abandon.
Pouting, she snatched the book from Spencer and shoved it back into the bag.
“Stop using weird words! It’s not ‘hidden depth.’ It’s… it’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right term.
“It’s… charisma! Yes, charisma!”
“...Whatever.”
Spencer, too lazy to differentiate, gave up on the argunt.
At that mont, a soft knock ca at the door.
“Co in!” An Le called.
The door opened, revealing her mother carrying a plate of sliced apples.
“Here, you two. Have so fruit.”
“Thanks, Auntie!”
Spencer leaped up from the bed with surprising agility, startling An Le’s mother. Her childlike excitent and the way she licked her lips made the older woman chuckle.
Taking a seat nearby, An Le’s mother looked curiously at Spencer.
“By the way, may I call you Spencer? Or do you have another na you prefer?”
“Spencer’s fine,” Spencer replied between bites of apple.
“Well, Spencer, since you’re in the sa class as An Le, how is she doing? Our family’s new to Linn, and we were worried she might have trouble fitting in at such a prestigious school.”
Before Spencer could respond, An Le quickly interjected, her face flushing.
“It’s fine, Mom! Everyone’s been great—classmates, teachers, everyone! No problems at all!”
Spencer gave her a sidelong glance but didn’t contradict her. Instead, she nodded while finishing her apple.
Satisfied, An Le’s mother smiled warmly.
“Good, good. That puts my mind at ease. Well, you two have fun. Just leave the dishes in the kitchen when you’re done. And Spencer, if it gets late, feel free to stay the night. Treat this like your own ho.”
“Thanks, Auntie!”
As An Le’s mother left, An Le waved awkwardly and then turned to find Spencer had already devoured all the fruit.
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Spencer asked, licking her fingers. “Park Shuwen and her friends bully you constantly, and most of the others don’t even talk to you.”
An Le hesitated, lowering her gaze. “Because… what’s the point? Telling her would just make her worry, and it wouldn’t change anything.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added softly,
“Besides, even Park Shuwen wouldn’t treat
that badly if I hadn’t gotten caught delivering a love letter to Xiao Huan. Before that, it was just the occasional snide remark.
“Anyway, I’ve been used to not having friends since I was little. It’s fine now. I have you, don’t I, Spencer?”
Spencer blinked, startled by the warmth in An Le’s smile.
She had intended to take Yan Huan away, not because she wanted him, but simply to disrupt the lives of the girls fawning over him. It was like snatching the pinwheel from a child at the aquarium—an impulsive move that left her feeling empty afterward.
But maybe this ti, she could change her approach.
Helping An Le get closer to Yan Huan wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
“Thanks for inviting
today,” Spencer said abruptly, standing. “I should get going.”
“Already?”
“Yeah…” Spencer yawned, grabbing the plate and heading for the door. “I’m tired.”
An Le followed her out, watching as Spencer handed the dishes to her mother and exchanged polite farewells.
As Spencer climbed into her sleek car, she turned back to wave at An Le, who stood bundled in a thick coat at the door. The car’s engine humd to life, and the driver spoke,
“Miss, a ssage from the Chairwoman—your mother.”
“Take
ho first,” Spencer replied curtly.
Back at her penthouse in Jinghe District, Spencer dropped her bag and collapsed onto the cold, expansive sofa.
The golden lion AI projected onto the screen spoke chanically,
“Miss, your recent behavior has left you on the brink of expulsion. The Chairwoman is very displeased.”
Spencer scowled, tossing a pillow at the screen. The AI ignored her outburst and continued,
“To avoid expulsion, you must et one of the following conditions before the midterm evaluation…”
It listed the impossibly low odds of her eting the requirents, including passing grades, disciplinary improvents, or winning a competition.
“...Or you may join a club and win the upcoming Club Competition.”
“Great. Use their hard work to save
from expulsion. I’m sure they’ll love that,” Spencer muttered bitterly.
The AI responded, unperturbed,
“This will be coordinated by others, and the rules will be adjusted to ensure success.”
“Fine. I’ll think about it.” Spencer grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it, shutting out the AI’s droning voice and the cold emptiness of her penthouse.
Outside, the lights of Linn blurred in the windows, distorted by the howling winter wind.
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