On the way back to Shen Ying's ho, Xing Jiale couldn't help but reflect on how things had spiraled out of control, feeling nothing but resentnt toward himself.
He had only been hired as a re shield—a decoy—with the added task of keeping an eye on things. It was supposed to be a straightforward, harmless job. Yet sohow, those three idiots had collectively shoved him straight into the lion’s den.
Arriving at Shen Ying’s place, it wasn’t his first ti visiting, but last ti, he had been an observer—calm, detached.
Her parents weren’t ho yet. Those two were sothing else—despite having more wealth than they could ever spend in a lifeti, they remained deeply devoted to their humble street-stall business.
Xing Jiale let out a quiet sigh of relief. It was better that they weren’t here. If they had been, he’d have to face them through the door, and—
The thought made him ntally slap himself. What kind of cowardly thinking was that?
Then, with a sharp tug, he yanked off his tie and flung it onto the floor of Shen Ying’s bedroom before collapsing onto the bed.
His tone was uncooperative as he snapped, “Aren’t we supposed to be knitting? Hurry up.”
“Let make this clear—this ti, I got screwed over by those three morons. There won’t be a next ti.”
That’s what he said, but the next day at school, there was sothing undeniably different about him—an aura he’d never had before.
A kind of lingering languidness, as if the slightest touch would reveal sothing ripe for the taking.
“You seem… different sohow, but I can’t put my finger on it,” soone remarked.
Xing Jiale’s heart skipped a beat, and his voice shot up defensively. “Of course I’m different! Since getting tangled up with you guys, do I even have ti for myself anymore?”
The three knew he and Shen Ying couldn’t stand each other, so they imdiately dropped their scrutiny, focusing instead on keeping their decoy in line.
But by noon, Shen Ying announced, “Today, I want to try pottery.”
Zhong Chen blinked. “Yesterday you said you wanted to learn knitting?”
Shen Ying shrugged, her gaze sliding toward Xing Jiale. “Soone wasn’t exactly cooperative. Though… he did find so enjoynt in it eventually.”
“But after looking up so tutorials online, I realized I don’t have much creative talent in that area, so I lost interest.”
Zhong Chen sighed wistfully. “I was hoping you’d knit a scarf for Christmas.”
Shen Ying smiled. “If I stick with pottery, I’ll make you sothing instead.”
Xing Jiale’s scalp prickled, his eyes locking onto Shen Ying’s.
When she spoke to Zhong Chen, her gaze was direct. Xing Jiale couldn’t tell if there was any hidden aning in her words—whether she was just brushing Zhong Chen off or if she had plans to drag him into her whims too.
But all he felt was irritation. He told himself it was because this woman was already tornting him—how dare she drag his friend into it too?
Yet Zhong Chen, oblivious as ever, just asked, “What kind of pottery are you thinking of making?”
Shen Ying tilted her head. “I’m not great with deep bowls, so probably sothing like a plate?”
Then she looked at Xing Jiale. “The fruit and sashimi plates at my house aren’t great. I’d like to make my own.”
Every muscle in Xing Jiale’s body tensed. A scorching heat shot up his spine, spreading through him in an instant.
He desperately wanted to touch his face, to confirm if it was burning up.
The other three chid in, “Where are you planning to do this?”
Shen Ying: “There’s a pottery studio near my place. The reviews say the atmosphere is nice, and the instructor is a gentle, patient guy—handso too.”
The three imdiately protested. “Why go sowhere else? Jiale’s house has a workshop.”
They turned to Xing Jiale, assigning him his next task. “Take her to your place. Who knows how clean the materials are at so random studio?”
Xing Jiale’s voice rose in protest. “My house? You’ve gone too—”
He cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw the three staring at him in confusion.
Covering quickly, he muttered, “We’re not close enough for to invite her over, are we?”
Gong Zhaoxi clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be stingy. Once Ying and I get together, you’re my best friend—of course we’ll be visiting each other all the ti.”
Before he could finish, the other two grabbed him, pretending to push him off the balcony.
Watching these three idiots—already neck-deep in their own delusions—still acting so childish, Xing Jiale felt a pang of bitterness. He, the supposed outsider, had been forced to grow up too fast.
After school, when he took Shen Ying ho, he didn’t even step into the workshop.
Shen Ying raised a brow. “I really did want to try pottery, you know.”
Xing Jiale scoffed. “I don’t want your muddy hands anywhere near .”
Then he snapped, “Hurry up. I don’t have ti to waste on you.”
He added, as if to convince himself, “No more gas after this.”
Yet less than twenty-four hours later, Shen Ying told Zhong Chen and the others, “Never mind. I realized I just like watching people make pottery—the smooth motions. When it’s , it’s just a sticky ss.”
“Sticky—” Xing Jiale’s face flushed crimson, but he didn’t dare say more.
Gong Zhaoxi shrugged. “I wanted to say this yesterday, but it’s good to try new things.”
Shen Ying nodded. “True. Today, I think I’ll try painting.”
Zhong Chen frowned. “Why the sudden interest in so many hobbies?”
Shen Ying sighed. “I only get to see you guys for a few minutes each day. I’m bored.”
The three were instantly heartbroken, each convinced her loneliness stemd from their past breakups.
Eagerly, they offered, “Do you have painting supplies at ho? If not, I can have so sent over.”
Shen Ying: “I have most of what I need, but I’m not happy with the canvases. I’ll have to pick out new ones.”
Back at her place, Xing Jiale watched as the paints and brushes inched closer to him.
He glared at Shen Ying. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
Shen Ying: “Doing what?”
Xing Jiale: “Yesterday I said I didn’t want to get muddy, so today you’re pulling this stunt.”
When she didn’t deny it, his anger flared—but the rush of emotion sent a jolt through him, like an electric current. All he could do was mutter a weak threat: “No matter what tricks you pull, I’m not here willingly.”
He fully expected her to escalate things the next day, given how devious she was.
But at noon, Shen Ying didn’t ntion any new hobbies to the three idiots.
In fact, the day passed without incident—she even went ho alone after school.
At first, Xing Jiale thought she was plotting sothing worse. Yet days went by without a single move from her.
Instead of relief, he felt a simring frustration. It made sense—after wreaking havoc, she just walked away unscathed, leaving him no chance for payback.
Then, one day, he caught Shen Ying and Gong Zhaoxi whispering in the hallway.
They stood close, and the way Gong Zhaoxi looked at her—his affection was unmistakable.
The two seed to be discussing sothing, with Shen Ying speaking while Gong Zhaoxi nodded repeatedly, his eyes sparkling with excitent and his face lit up with delight.
In the past, Xing Jiale had watched these guys being led around by the nose and felt nothing but disdain and frustration at their lack of spine. But today, the sight before him felt unbearably grating.
After the two parted ways, Xing Jiale intercepted Gong Zhaoxi and demanded bluntly, "What were you talking about?"
The eagerness hadn’t faded from Gong Zhaoxi’s face, and he didn’t bother hiding it from Xing Jiale. "She invited to go painting."
Instantly, Xing Jiale’s mind flashed back to a few days ago—the brush streaked with paint grazing his skin, the shivers it sent down his spine still lingering faintly. His expression darkened imdiately. "You actually dared to arrange a private outing with her? Have you forgotten how much your family sacrificed to keep you two apart?"
Gong Zhaoxi waved it off carelessly. "If we’re careful, it won’t be a problem. My parents aren’t that hung up on it anyway—they were just influenced by Xiao Yun’s parents’ overreaction."
"They won’t be watching every second. Besides, Shen Ying offered equally valuable intel in exchange. Trust , my parents will turn a blind eye."
Xing Jiale couldn’t convince himself this was just Gong Zhaoxi’s optimistic delusion. He’d witnessed the whole scene himself—Gong Zhaoxi’s parents had indeed been the least concerned about his entanglent with Shen Ying.
It was just that the girl was greedy. She’d played up the sense of crisis to squeeze five billion out of them. But if she wanted to, she could dissolve those concerns in an instant.
Xing Jiale swept a scrutinizing gaze over Gong Zhaoxi. This freak was naturally unrestrained—if Shen Ying got her way even once, the consequences would be unimaginable.
And he could easily picture it: if this guy ever realized the difference between painting and painting, his willingness to cooperate would probably be—
Just the thought made Xing Jiale’s blood boil. Staring at Gong Zhaoxi’s expectant face, he nearly punched him right then.
His smile was stiff. "Is that so? Got it."
Returning to the classroom, he spotted Shen Ying already seated at her desk and imdiately confronted her in a fury.
"What’s your ga? Even now, you won’t leave my friend alone?"
"Then what was the point of swallowing my pride all this ti?"
Shen Ying spread her hands helplessly. "You said you weren’t willing. I’m not the type to force people."
"Zhaoxi is willing, though."
Xing Jiale was stunned. "You already explained that to him?"
Shen Ying: "Not yet. But even if he knew, he wouldn’t resist—you know that better than anyone."
Xing Jiale gritted his teeth, his eyes reddening slightly. On closer inspection, there was even a hint of grievance in them.
When school ended, Gong Zhaoxi made up an excuse to stay behind for "business." After Zhong Chen and Xiao Yun left, he sneaked into Shen Ying’s classroom.
Seeing her waiting for him, he bounded over cheerfully. "Let’s go."
Shen Ying tucked away her phone and stood, following him out of school.
"How’d you shake them off?" she asked.
The three of them, thanks to their history of backstabbing each other, were always on high alert—especially now, terrified one of them might pull ahead. They kept each other in check, moving as a unit.
Gong Zhaoxi smirked. "Took so smooth talking, but those two idiots? I can fool them without even trying."
No sooner had he spoken than two icy, dangerous voices cut in from behind: "Oh really?"
Gong Zhaoxi spun around, gaping at Zhong Chen and Xiao Yun—who were supposed to have driven off—like he’d seen ghosts. "You—"
Before he could finish, his eyes landed on Xing Jiale standing not far away.
Gong Zhaoxi exploded. "You sold out? I’m your best friend, you bastard!"
Xing Jiale remained impassive, utterly unapologetic. "Sorry, Zhaoxi. Zhong Chen and Xiao Yun are also my best friends. I couldn’t betray both of them just for you."
"You entrusted with maintaining the balance. I won’t stand by and watch any of you cross the line."
His righteous declaration earned nods of approval from Zhong Chen and Xiao Yun.
Zhong Chen clapped him on the shoulder. "That’s why you’re the best. Knew we could count on you."
Xiao Yun added, "If there’s one person left in this group worth trusting, it’s you."
Gong Zhaoxi was livid. "What’s the big deal about going painting with her?"
He glared at Xing Jiale. "I think you’re the one with ulterior motives here. That’s why you’re blocking from being alone with Shen Ying."
A flicker of guilt flashed in Xing Jiale’s eyes, but Zhong Chen smacked Gong Zhaoxi over the head before he could react. "You think Jiale is like you?"
"Still trying to drag him down with you? You’re done."
"Today, you’ll learn the price of sneaking off."
He turned to Shen Ying and handed her off to Xing Jiale. "As for painting, you can go with her today."
Xing Jiale t Shen Ying’s gaze and nodded. "Fine."
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