Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"007"

Ao, a pictophonetic character—one combining a sound component and a meaning component—is structured with "ao" on top and "dog" below. It denotes a large, fierce, and aggressive breed of dog.

In Xiao Lancui's time, it was a symbol of guarding livestock and fighting in wars.

The Zuo Zhuan, Duke Xuan's Second Year, also records that Duke Ling of Jin once unleashed an Ao dog on a loyal minister, who was eventually killed by the minister's loyal guard.

Ao is fierce but utterly loyal to its master, regardless of whether that master is good or evil, just or unjust. It is a word with both positive and negative connotations.

Xiao Lancui did not know whether the Lu family named their youngest son Ao as a compliment or an insult, but at least the Lu Ao he knew—his Ao—was full of malice.

The father of the long-deceased Tyrant named him Ao to humiliate his mother as a lowly maid, and to remind him that he must live like a dog, guarding the other members of the royal family.

Perhaps it was the memory of an old acquaintance, for that night Xiao Lancui only dozed off briefly before dawn, and even dreamed of a past event.

It was a bitterly cold day.

He went to the side hall to teach Lu Ao to read, and on the way encountered an old woman peddling brown sugar rice cake sticks on the streets. He bought them all and, upon reaching the side hall, handed them to Lu Ao without much thought.

Unexpectedly, Lu Ao tore open the oil-paper wrapping with one hand and crouched down on the ground, wolfing them down.

He truly looked like a starving little stray dog.

At that moment, Xiao Lancui changed his mind—before teaching Lu Ao to read and write, he should nurture him first.

After sleeping fitfully until dawn, Xiao Lancui got up early.

He went downstairs, and the kitchen was already filled with the aroma of cooking. The others hadn't gotten up yet; only Xiao Anfeng was at the dining table.

The Xiao family required everyone to be present for dinner, but breakfast was eaten individually, and lunch usually only had Xie Jingfang at home.

Xiao Lancui walked into the dining room. Xiao Anfeng, who had been absentmindedly stirring his noodles, looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, saw it was Xiao Lancui, and lowered his head again. He was still annoyed with Xiao Lancui from yesterday, and with Xiao Jingli absent, he saw no need to put on a show.

Xiao Lancui had even less desire to talk to Xiao Anfeng. He pulled out a chair and sat down. A servant came over and asked, "Third Young Master, what would you like for breakfast today? We have both Chinese and Western-style options."

Xiao Lancui ordered the steamed buns and lean pork congee that the original owner of this body usually ate.

Unexpectedly, the servant let out an "Ah" and said, "I'm sorry, Third Young Master, we didn't make steamed buns or lean pork congee today. Could you pick something else?"

The kitchen indeed hadn't made them, and Xiao Lancui knew this.

This was the original body's status at home—when you're easygoing, people take advantage of you.

So the kitchen prepared breakfast favorites for everyone else daily, both Chinese and Western, and other meals were no exception. Unless someone specifically requested something, the original body's favorite dishes would only appear on the table if someone asked for them.

Xiao Lancui glanced sideways with a cool, indifferent look, and the servant's smile instantly froze. His tone was calm, "Make it now."

The cold tone carried an unyielding authority, and even Xiao Anfeng couldn't help but glance over.

The servant was completely stunned. She wasn't unaware of Xiao Lancui's tastes, but he never minded—if it wasn't available, he'd switch. They had gotten into the habit and were happy to skip making one portion, also to curry favor with Xie Jingfang.

Outsiders wouldn't know, but anyone who regularly visited this house knew how much Xie Jingfang despised Xiao Lancui.

How could anyone not hate an adopted son who stole the attention that should have gone to her own child?

Unexpectedly, today Xiao Lancui was acting out of character. The servant snapped back to reality, glanced at Xiao Lancui again, and seeing he wasn't joking, reluctantly said, "Alright, please wait a moment."

And she changed her address from "you" to the more respectful "you" (nín).

This Xiao Lancui, who had returned, had a different aura from the wealthy air of Xiao Jingli and Xiao Liqin—it was an innate... nobility?

In any case, it was something more than wealth, something more powerful than money, and she instinctively switched to the respectful form of address.

Xiao Lancui added, "First, bring me a glass of warm water."

The servant quickly brought him a glass of warm water.

On the table lay a copy of today's newspaper, which was a habit of Xiao Jingli's. Newspapers had long been obsolete in the digital age, but he still enjoyed reading one during breakfast.

Xiao Lancui picked up the newspaper and skimmed through it.

Given the Lu family's status, there was no shortage of reporters digging for news, especially since the youngest son of the Lu family, Lu Ao, had first been in a fire and then been sent to a psychiatric hospital.

Any single one of these stories would be enough to meet a newspaper's annual quota.

Xiao Lancui was still bothered by the name Lu Ao.

Moreover, a month ago, the youngest son of the Lu family had tried to strangle him in the hospital.

If he could transmigrate into a book with the same name and face, then Lu Ao might have too.

If it were Lu Ao, that would explain why he wanted to kill him.

He had to confirm it.

Perhaps due to the Lu family's overwhelming power, the newspaper had not a single word about them, though Xiao Liqin did make the front page of the business section.

Xiao Liqin, 26, currently the vice president of the Xiao Group, had recently led a successful cross-border project and was on a roll.

Xiao Lancui had never delved into romance novels, but based on the original text, he analyzed that Xiao Liqin was the one who would ultimately fiercely compete with Lu Siye for Xiao Anfeng—likely the so-called devoted male second lead.

And Xiao Liqin had actually witnessed the original body's fall into the sea, but to protect Xiao Anfeng's background from being exposed, he kept quiet. Moreover, Xiao Liqin was a powerful heir to the Xiao Corporation.

The newspaper was full of praise—calling him the future ruler of the Xiao dynasty and a leader in emerging industries.

All of them belonged to the ranks of those to be swept away.

Xiao Lancui set down the newspaper, took a sip of water, and found it at the perfect temperature.

Throughout the entire process, Xiao Anfeng was watching him, and he knew it, but he didn't react. When his breakfast arrived, he ate as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

The original body had a sensitive palate, but Xiao Lancui himself did not. He naturally blew on the steamed buns to cool them before taking slow, deliberate bites.

Xiao Anfeng finally spoke up, "You never used to make things difficult for them."

Xiao Lancui didn't reply immediately. After chewing and swallowing slowly, he picked up another steamed bun, lifted his gaze, and gently swayed the bun with a faint smile on his lips. "If I asked for dragon meat buns, that would be making things difficult. I'm just asking for steamed buns. Compared to Second Brother's favorite golden soup noodles, which require hours of simmering broth and hand-kneaded noodles prepared hours in advance, aren't you being too hard on me and too easy on yourself?"

Xiao Anfeng was at a loss for words. In the past, he had clashed with Xiao Lancui—verbally and physically, sometimes unintentionally, sometimes deliberately—but each time, Xiao Lancui would back down, knowing he was in the wrong.

That was how it should be. Xiao Lancui had stolen the fatherly love that belonged to him, and merely scolding and hitting him a few times was him being restrained. If he were the adopted son, he would never fight back or talk back.

But today, Xiao Lancui had talked back, and he had done so leaving Xiao Anfeng red-faced and speechless. Xiao Anfeng gripped his chopsticks tightly and finally squeezed out, "They were hired to cook for the family. Whatever I want to eat, they should make."

Xiao Lancui took a bite of the steamed bun, chewed slowly again, and asked unhurriedly, "So what exactly am I making difficult, Second Brother?"

Xiao Anfeng's face turned even worse. He set down his chopsticks and was about to leave when Xiao Lancui said calmly, "You haven't finished your meal, Second Brother. It's not good to waste food."

Xiao Anfeng walked out quickly.

Xiao Lancui looked at the barely touched golden broth plain noodles, frowning slightly.

He truly found it a pity.

Modern technology was advanced, capable of artificially suppressing or inducing rain, and had developed chemical fertilizers and hybrid rice to increase food production. In ancient times, people could only rely on the weather. During famine years, a single bowl of rice could make countless people willingly lay down their lives for you.

Since being exposed to new knowledge, Xiao Lancui had developed a strong interest in chemistry. He was now like a renewed, brand-new sponge, frantically absorbing all kinds of new information.

If he ever had the chance to return to Dali, he would have more new knowledge to strengthen and enrich his nation and its people.

Xiao Lancui took away the bowl of noodles, along with the still-fresh, unused food the kitchen discarded daily.

Homeless people were rarely seen in modern times, but there were quite a few stray cats and dogs. He found a spot where food was put out for stray cats and dogs, set down the food, and then hailed a taxi on the roadside to go to the nearest shopping mall.

When he received the call from Xiao Jingli, Xiao Lancui had just come out of the mall.

He was carrying a laptop.

Everything belonging to the original body had been thrown out by the Xiao family.

"Yeah, it's too stuffy at home." Xiao Lancui walked into the bookstore next door, found a quiet chair, and sat down. "I'm out getting some fresh air."

Xiao Jingli offered a couple of insincere words of concern on the phone and hung up. Xiao Lancui casually blocked Xiao Jingli for the time being, then blocked Lu Siye as well.

The original body's phone had only two contacts: Xiao Jingli and Lu Siye. With the new SIM card, the original contacts were still there.

Yesterday, after Lu Siye left, he had suddenly sent him a message: "See you at school tomorrow. Memory loss is no big deal—I've got you covered, don't worry."

It wasn't even worth a reply.

Xiao Lancui opened the computer.

It was his first time using one, yet his movements were fluid. He opened a browser and typed "Lu Group Lu Ao" into the search bar.

The search returned no results.

This confirmed Xiao Lancui's suspicions—the Lu family had suppressed all information about their youngest son, downplaying his existence.

Xiao Lancui closed the computer. There was still some time before the hospital's office hours ended, so he went to buy books. He needed to buy study books for three foreign languages.

There were plenty of e-books online, but he still preferred the feel of physical books.

One English, one Russian, one German.

One was the most commonly spoken language in the world today, and the other two were the native tongues of many geniuses in physics and chemistry. He wanted to read the originals in their authentic form.

After paying, he walked out of the bookstore carrying two bags, and spotting a convenience store along the way, he went in.

He wanted to buy a Matcha Milk Pudding Ice Bread.

They didn't have any.

He'd been buying it at the convenience store on the hospital's first floor all along, only now realizing that not every convenience store had it. He walked straight down the sidewalk, checking several convenience stores, and finally got his hands on his coveted Matcha Milk Pudding Ice Bread half an hour later.

Like the original body, he ate little, and eating even a little too much would leave his stomach painfully full. But eyeing the Ice Bread, Xiao Lancui deliberated for a moment and grabbed two packs anyway. He finished both packs bite by bite in the convenience store's seating area.

A bag of books and a bag of notebooks wasn't too heavy, but Xiao Lancui's body was still being stitched back together, with next to no stamina. After walking half an hour, he couldn't take it anymore—his breathing became rapid, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

He stopped to rest for a moment before regaining enough strength to hail a taxi to the hospital.

He'd finished his herbal medicine and needed to get a refill.

Although he could get the prescription filled at an outside Chinese pharmacy, he still reached out to the nurse from before to prepare three doses of herbal medicine for him.

He arrived at the hospital right on time during his lunch break to pick up the medicine. As he was leaving, he casually remarked to the nurse, "I heard the patient who attacked me last time got sent to a mental hospital?"

The nurse had also heard her colleagues talk about how Xiao Lancui had almost been strangled, and she said with lingering fear, "Yes, that guy really is mentally ill—no wonder he attacked people! On the day they took him, they had to sedate him into unconsciousness just to get him out smoothly."

Xiao Lancui said casually, "That bad? Is there a mental hospital that would even take him?"

The nurse nodded repeatedly, "Yes, there is. It's not far from our hospital—it's called Sen Mountain Psychiatric Hospital."

She was puzzled too. The Lu family had money and status—why not hire a private caregiver to look after him at home? Why send him to Sen Mountain Psychiatric Hospital, a really old public facility with especially bad conditions?