Chapter 23

023.

After being doted on by Bai Yu a few times, and with Bai Yu having so clearly taken his side during the "Sixteen Essays, Two Hundred Copies Each" incident, Lu Yuan quickly filed him under "my people" when facing him again.

Lying on the bed, he rolled up his shirt with much more ease now.

The cold towel hit his skin again, and Lu Yuan shivered as he asked, "When's my back gonna heal? You got any experience with this?"

The doctor's advice was to rest and let it heal, but the lack of mobility was driving him up the wall. He turned his head, watching the side of the man's face as he looked down, and for whatever reason, tried to defend himself: "If my back didn't hurt, you wouldn't have had to help me when Lu Yan shoved my face earlier."

"Then I'd owe you one less life-saving favor," Bai Yu said. "Sounds like a bad deal to me."

Lu Yuan thought, Chairman Bai, with your status, why are you so hung up on one life-saving favor? To put it bluntly, with Bai Yu's current position, he could get anything he wanted with zero effort from anyone else.

He faced forward again, chin resting on the thick pillow, and asked quietly, "Are you seriously making my third brother copy each essay two hundred times?"

"I gave him a choice: memorize eight essays within two days, or copy sixteen essays two hundred times each. He picked the first one."

Lu Yuan went quiet for a second.

Bai Yu raised his eyes, catching on to his silence: "What, you don't think your third brother's got it in him?"

Ah.

Yeah, that was exactly it.

He rubbed the tip of his nose: "You're not gonna tell my third brother that's what I think of him, right?"

Bai Yu arched an eyebrow.

Although he figured the whole "Sixteen Essays, Two Hundred Copies Each" thing was already enough to make the brothers mortal enemies with zero good opinions of each other, he was considerate enough to go along with Lu Yuan's wishes, not wanting to watch someone blow up like a firecracker about to pop.

The guest bedroom went quiet for a few seconds, then the silence broke under Lu Yuan's unstoppable yapping.

"So if my third brother can't memorize them, then what?"

"I told you, I gave him a choice. Can't do the first, he does the second."

"And what if he can't do the second one either?" Lu Yuan pulled his phone out of his pocket, intending to use the calculator, but first caught sight of the threatening message his third brother had sent on WeChat: "Bratty little brother, just you wait! A real man takes his revenge, even if it takes ten years! See if you can hide in Brother Yu's villa forever!"

He ignored it for now and muttered to himself, "Let's lowball it, say each essay is 5,000 characters. Sixteen essays is 80,000. Times two hundred copies is—"

He stared at the screen.

16,000,000.

Lu Yuan: "............"

He immediately screenshotted it and sent it to Lu Yan, adding: "Study hard, or your 'ten years' will be spent copying sixteen million characters—or more [cat shaking head.jpg]"

Lu Yuan got two lines of ellipses in reply. Obviously, Third Young Master Lu had only been scared by the "two hundred copies" part without actually doing the math on how many characters that was. Now, after Lu Yuan's friendly reminder, he was probably sitting there in a daze.

To confirm his theory, Lu Yuan texted Chen Chi.

Chen Chi replied right away.

The reply was a photo. Lu Yan sat blankly by the window, wind and snow blowing into his face. He seemed completely unaware, letting his damp bangs hang limp while snowmelt ran down the sharp lines of his face like two trails of regretful tears.

He looked like he was losing it.

Lu Yuan's heart ached. Lu Yuan was thoughtful. Lu Yuan texted Chen Chi: "Brother Chen, have the chef make my third brother something good to eat, something to build him back up. Also, get a psychologist on standby in case my brother starts showing suicidal signs—have them ready to come over at any time."

Butler Chen: "Got it!"

Lu Yuan put his phone away and pressed Bai Yu: "You still haven't answered my question."

Bai Yu said flatly, "Even if it takes ten years, he'll finish copying it."

Lu Yuan: "?"

He caught on fast and turned his head, giving Bai Yu an accusing look: "You peeked at my texts with my third brother."

Bai Yu: "Just happened to glance at it."

Lu Yuan didn't doubt that. Given how highly the Lu family thought of Bai Yu, he definitely wasn't the type to snoop into other people's privacy on purpose. Besides, if he'd done it on purpose, he wouldn't have admitted it so openly.

But—

To be able to read the whole conversation from just a quick glance, his eyesight was pretty damn good.

Wait.

Good eyesight?

Lu Yuan suddenly remembered that morning when he was pacing around the study like a hyperactive kid, memorizing his essay. He didn't know when Bai Yu had shown up at the floor-to-ceiling window in the bedroom across the way, but when he'd noticed him, the man was just standing there, ramrod straight.

With eyesight like that, could he have seen how ridiculous he looked back then?

A weird look crossed his face. He hesitated for a long time but couldn't help satisfying his curiosity: "So, uh... have you ever stood by a floor-to-ceiling window early in the morning to enjoy the view, and seen a Psyduck in the building across from you??"

"If you're talking about that ugly Psyduck who was banging his head on the desk in frustration, kneeling in worship, pounding a pillow like crazy, collapsing to the floor, trying to suffocate himself but failing, then rolling around throwing a tantrum, lying flat and kicking the air with his legs up, and finally going limp in defeat—yeah, I saw it."

Lu Yuan: "............"

For a second, he didn't know whether to be amazed that Bai Yu had just said that whole long sentence, or to be horrified that he'd actually seen his ridiculous performance!

Finally, after holding it in for a while, he insisted, "The Psyduck pajamas are not ugly!"

In Bai Yu's opinion, they were ugly.

But he said, "Wear them tonight. Let me take a closer look."

Fine, look all you want. They weren't ugly, no matter what.

Lu Yuan snorted and immediately texted Chen Chi to bring over his pajamas later, emphasizing: "Every single set."

He thought for a second and added: "Not the clownfish ones."

Even he couldn't stand those.

The ten minutes of cold compressing flew by as they went back and forth. By the time the ice water had numbed his lower back to the point of no feeling, let alone pain, Lu Yuan frowned a little as the temperature came back and the dull ache returned. He wasn't happy about it.

"Help me put on a pain patch."

"No." Bai Yu pulled the rolled-up sweater back down, covering the fair, delicate skin of his back. In response to Lu Yuan's shocked look—'What? You're refusing such a small favor?'—he explained, "The instructions say it can only be applied once every 24 hours."

Glancing at the indignant young man, he added, "If it hurts, then sit still. Don't forget, you haven't memorized your essay yet. If you've got nothing to do, go study it."

Lu Yuan: "..."

He thought that after the whole "copying each of the sixteen essays two hundred times" ordeal, they wouldn't need to bring up the essays again—that cold, distant topic. But apparently, Chairman Bai was just like a headmaster, so strict he wouldn't let anyone off the hook.

Not one to give up, Lu Yuan decided to give it one more shot: "Since we're in the same boat and ganged up on Lu Yan together, can't you just let my essays slide?"

"In the same boat?"

"Great minds think alike! Great minds think alike!" Lu Yuan quickly corrected himself. "Since we think alike, let my essays slide."

Bai Yu didn't say anything for a moment.

Lu Yuan struggled to shuffle toward the middle of the bed, slowly turning himself around like a turtle to face the man. He politely grabbed a corner of the sweater with his fingers and craned his neck to look up: "Please, please!"

Bai Yu looked down at the pale fingers clutching the sweater.

Lu Yuan was on the slender side, and his fingers were long and thin, with prominent knuckles and little flesh. As he applied pressure, his knuckles stood out clearly. Following the line of his fingers upward, the red string on his wrist swayed slightly as he pleaded. Bai Yu reached out and held the small pendant dangling from the string, examining it closely—it turned out to be a chubby, cute little tiger.

Because it was so plump, it looked more like the chubby cat from the emojis Lu Yuan had sent him.

"This pendant looks like it's got some years on it."

"Oh, this? My grandma had it made out of her old gold earrings." Lu Yuan was easily distracted, his fingers brushing Bai Yu's palm as he touched the pendant. He didn't notice, too busy studying the little tiger. "Grandma said folks of her generation all had a pair of gold earrings or something. She didn't have much to leave me, so she had this zodiac pendant made for me as a keepsake."

"Looks just like you."

"Huh?" Lu Yuan's animated expression immediately fell. "How does it look like me? Am I that fat?"

"And," his voice dropped, "don't change the subject."

That was his go-to move, and he'd caught on right away.

Bai Yu withdrew his hand, and as he stood up, his long fingers pressed against Lu Yuan's forehead, pushing away the face that kept inching closer. Ignoring the pitiful plea, he said flatly, "If you're asking for something, you need the right attitude. I'm not your brother—whining won't work. I prefer to see some real action."

Thud.

The door to the guest room closed again. Bai Yu left with the damp, cold towel, heading back to the master bedroom, leaving Lu Yuan lying on the bed, blinking.

*

After Bai Yu left, Lu Yuan slowly turned back toward the headboard, mulling over what Bai Yu meant by "real action" while yawning lazily twice. Sleepiness easily took over.

The humidifier on the desk continued to puff out mist, a faint fragrance wafting into his nose. The room grew dim, and Lu Yuan pulled the blanket up higher, his breathing gradually slowing.

Outside, the wind and snow were howling, but inside it was warm as spring—perfect napping weather. Yet the opposite was true: Lu Yuan didn't get a peaceful sleep. In his dreams, a blood-curdling scream kept piercing through out of nowhere. Once or twice was tolerable, but three or four times was a capital offense against peace and quiet!

Lu Yuan shot up from the bed in a fury, ready to grab a weapon and throw down, only to immediately clutch his waist and howl in pain.

Ow, ow, ow!

Brimming with frustration, he stomped his fuzzy slippers hard against the floor, yanked open the curtains with a sharp rip, and found the window was open. Through the open window, his gaze swept like radar, searching for the source of the screaming.

"Ah—~!"

A scream that twisted and turned, lasting an impossibly long time, as if showing off some serious lung capacity, instantly helped Lu Yuan pinpoint the source. But when his eyes landed on Villa No. 2, he fell silent for two seconds, and the anger bubbling up inside him fizzled out.

Forget it. If he were the one who had to memorize eight essays in two days or else copy sixteen million words, he'd be howling like that too.

Being human means being a bit more forgiving.

He decisively shut the window, sealed it tight, blocking out the wailing from outside, and pulled the blanket back up to sleep soundly until 3:20 p.m.

After a quick wash-up, he headed to the living room and was surprised to find that Chen Chi had already brought over his pajamas. He carried them upstairs, changed out of the sweater and pants, and felt like all the constraints had been stripped away, leaving him feeling much more comfortable.

Back in the living room, Lu Yuan trailed behind the old butler like a shadow, asking curiously, "Grandpa Wei, does Mr. Bai usually have afternoon tea?"

"Mr. Bai has a cup of coffee every now and then."

Coffee, huh—the essential for a CEO.

Lu Yuan rubbed his chin, his gaze slowly drifting over to the coffee machine.

At 3:40 p.m.

Lu Yuan knocked on the study door, coffee in hand. Hearing the "come in" from inside, he pushed the door open, poking his head in first.

The man glanced up.

Those phoenix eyes were hidden behind lenses, the silver-framed glasses perched on his high nose bridge, turning his innate coldness into a refined, scholarly look. That face really was something new every time—the more you looked, the more there was to see.

The flash of admiration in Lu Yuan's eyes was easily seen through. Bai Yu's gaze swept over his slightly odd stance, noticing his hand hidden behind the door, and asked, "What is it?"

The voice snapped Lu Yuan back to attention.

His eyes curved into a smile as he asked sweetly, "Am I disturbing you, Mr. Bai?"

Bai Yu, looking indifferent, replied without any tact: "Yes, you are."

Lu Yuan: "..."

Pretending not to hear, he asked again, "Can I come in?"

Bai Yu: "What if I say no?"

Lu Yuan blinked, let out an "oh," and said to himself, "Alright then, I'm coming in."

With that, he squeezed his body through the half-open door and set the coffee on the desk.

"I made this coffee for you myself. What do you think of the latte art?"

Lu Yuan had an absolute talent for making coffee. Back when he worked at his dream studio, to save money and take advantage of the company's perks, he never bought coffee from outside shops. Over time, he'd honed his impressive latte art skills. Now that he'd been reborn, that skill was still intact—

He'd made a dog in the coffee.

Lu Yuan lifted his chin, his face clearly screaming "praise me," but his question was coy: "Does it look like Neon, the one you used to have?"

He pointed to the letters "N.H." in the bottom right corner and boasted, "I added that specially."

Bai Yu looked down at the surface of the coffee.

He thought, if Lu Yuan really wanted to please someone, it would be effortless.

He nodded: "It does look like him."

Neon was a Tibetan mastiff, naturally thick-furred, sometimes looking like a giant furball at first glance. The little young master's Neon captured the essence of the mastiff well, just missing a bit of fierceness—it looked quite docile.

Truly, the dog reflects the owner.

Hearing the praise, Lu Yuan smiled contentedly, pulled up a chair with a casual air, and sat down. His fuzzy sleeve pressed against the desk under his elbow, his long fingers propping up his chin as he asked expectantly, "So, in honor of Neon, can I skip memorizing the essays?"

"That's it?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'? Isn't Neon your favorite dog? I worked my ass off drawing it for ages, just to make you happy. As the saying goes, 'it's the thought that counts,' and besides, I was hunched over doing this for a long time, which is tiring. My back was already bad, and now it hurts even more."

So the gift isn't light either—it's heavy on both the gift and the sentiment.

Bai Yu only gave a frosty "quite similar" as feedback, and he could still comfort himself that Chairman Bai was just born with a terrible temper and never said anything sweet, but at least it carried some affirmation.

The words "that's it?" were a bit too much.

He thought, when he came up with the coffee just now, he should have hidden a kitchen knife under the tray and given Chairman Bai a proper lesson in *The Art of Language*.

"I'll ice your back later. As for the papers, you can only skip memorizing one." Setting aside his silver-rimmed glasses on the desk, the man's fingertips rested on the armrest of the chair, the stark contrast between white and black making Lu Yuan's eyes keep drifting up involuntarily.

Bai Yu seemed to notice this, his fingers, which had been tapping the desk, paused slightly, his voice flat: "I'm a businessman; I prefer an even trade."

Lu Yuan drawled an "oh" to indicate he understood.

Bai Yu's meaning was that the remaining seven papers could also be skipped, depending on whether he could offer something that satisfied Bai Yu.

That was much easier than memorizing papers.

The young master's delight was obvious. Holding his back as he stood up, he hugged the tray to his chest and, just like a waiter, beamed and said "Enjoy your meal," turning around happily.

Bai Yu glanced at his exposed tailbone and thought, he was missing a tail to wag back and forth.

But then again—

Bai Yu frowned and spoke: "Lu Yuan."

Lu Yuan turned back: "Huh?"

Bai Yu: "What's on your feet?"

On his feet?

Lu Yuan looked down. What was on his feet? Aren't they just the duck-foot slippers that match the Ducky pajamas? They matched the pajamas' color scheme, were wider than regular slippers, and carefully kept the duck's webbed-foot design—only four toes and webbing connecting them.

He lifted the loose pant leg and showed off his slippers to Bai Yu from all angles: "Aren't they cute? I compared them. Two stores sell the same Ducky pajamas—the one that includes slippers has over a hundred thousand sales, the one that doesn't has three thousand."

That was enough to show how popular these slippers were.

Although Lu Yuan didn't say more, Bai Yu could read the unspoken words from his expression: If you say they're ugly, you have no taste.

Bai Yu paused for two seconds, then said: "Hurry up and leave."

Lu Yuan: "..."

That was even harder to hear than directly saying the duck slippers were ugly.

Lu Yuan slapped his way out of the study, stomping hard with loud, slapping steps.