Who Asked You To Deceive My First Love? - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Young Master: Where there is wealth, there is drama.

“Your brother?!”

The three of them cried out in unison.

“Yeah,” Lu Zhen explained. “He lost his meal card and had no money to eat, so I gave him cash to go get a replacement.”

The mundane truth left Qiao Muyu speechless.

You could’ve said so earlier, buddy. You made me look like a fool for nothing.

He could only offer an awkward laugh. “Your brother… certainly has a… unique personality.”

“Give me a break. Who’s his brother?”

Zhou Shengyuan looked desperate to sever any connection. “He and I have different fathers and different mothers. We have zero connection! My business is none of your concern.”

“I don’t care to manage you either,” Lu Zhen said nonchalantly. “But if you don’t eat properly, Mom and Dad will worry again.”

“I don’t give a damn if they worry! Even if I starve to death today, it’s none of their business!”

Just as the words left his mouth, Zhou Shengyuan’s stomach betrayed him with a loud, pathetic growl.

Everyone stared at him. “…”

“Um,” Qiao Muyu looked left and right, breaking the silence at the right moment. “It’s Thursday. Window 3 has sweet and sour pork ribs and fried shrimp balls. If we go late, they’ll be gone.”

Zhou Shengyuan paused, swallowing his pride along with his saliva. “…Fine. Let’s go.”

…

Ten minutes later, the five of them found an empty table and sat down with their trays.

Zhou Shengyuan’s tray was piled high. Whether it was his usual appetite or sheer hunger, he buried his face in his food the moment he sat down.

In contrast, Lu Zhen, sitting next to him, ate with refined elegance.

He took a sip of egg drop soup, then methodically used his chopsticks to pick out every single strand of green onion and sliver of green pepper from his stir-fried pork. Finally, he chose a single sweet and sour rib, took a tiny bite, frowned slightly, and set it aside. Apparently, it wasn’t to his liking.

Zhou Shengyuan noticed this instantly. “You’re not eating that?”

Lu Zhen was honest: “Too oily. And too much vinegar.”

“Your stomach has been spoiled by the private chefs at home. Don’t you know wasting food is shameful?”

After his display of disdain, Zhou Shengyuan unceremoniously snatched the ribs from Lu Zhen’s tray and added them to his own, eating even more heartily.

Watching this, Qiao Muyu’s mind began to wander.

If Zhou Shengyuan and Lu Zhen are brothers, logically, his family should be wealthy too. Why did Xu Anxue say he was a poor orphan?

Zhou Shengyuan caught him staring. “What are you looking at? Do I have food on my face?”

Qiao Muyu snapped out of it with a quick excuse. “Nothing. Your hair color is just very… noticeable.”

“Seriously, man,” Du Jingfei chimed in, pointing at the yellow hair. “Take a tip from me: dye it back when you can. If the Dean catches you, they’ll definitely call your parents.”

Zhou Shengyuan continued shoveling rice, his face cold. “I don’t have parents. My family is all dead.”

“Zhou Shengyuan.” Lu Zhen frowned, his voice stern. “Mom and Dad are still here.”

Zhou Shengyuan sneered. “They’re your parents, not mine.”

“…” Lu Zhen’s frown deepened. His gaze darkened—whether with anger or helplessness, it was hard to tell—and he didn’t say another word.

The table fell silent. The atmosphere was thick with a bizarre, localized awkwardness.

Du Jingfei leaned toward Qiao Muyu’s ear to whisper: “What’s the deal? Is Zhou Shengyuan an illegitimate son of the Lu family?”

Xu Rongcan leaned in from the other side, eyes gleaming. “I told you! Where there’s big money, there’s big drama. Pure ‘Gossip Girl’ energy.”

Qiao Muyu stuffed a piece of meat into each of their mouths. “Shut up. Eat more, gossip less.”

He stole a glance at the silent Lu Zhen. For once, seeing the “Young Master” rendered speechless and brooding gave Qiao Muyu a strange sense of satisfaction.

So, even the Young Master has troubles.

Well, it seemed the heavens were fair after all. His psychological balance was somewhat restored.

…

Qiao Muyu didn’t dwell on the Lu brothers’ drama for long; most of his attention was soon consumed by the midterm exams coming up in two weeks.

However, arriving alongside the autumn breeze wasn’t just the midterms, but also the annual Sports Meet.

The homeroom teacher, Wan Qianghai, placed great importance on class honor. Whenever such an event occurred, he urged everyone to sign up and win glory for the class.

But most students in Class 1 were “academic soldiers” who had no interest in athletics. Three days into registration, many slots remained empty.

Still, the school required at least one student per event from every class.

The Sports Rep, Hu Jun, was losing his mind. If it weren’t for the rule that a student could only enter three events, he would have signed up for everything himself. In desperation, he went around “begging” his classmates like he did every year.

During a break, Hu Jun slid a registration form in front of Qiao Muyu with a fawning smile. “Hehe, Monitor, how about signing up?”

Qiao Muyu had no intention of joining. First, he wasn’t athletic—signing up usually just meant winning a “participation prize.” Second, he didn’t want training to eat into his midterm review. He hadn’t given up on reclaiming his throne from Lu Zhen.

“Count me out,” Qiao Muyu sighed theatrically. “You know I’m a sports dud. It’s hard enough for me to show up for morning calisthenics. I shouldn’t go out there and embarrass us.”

“It’s about the spirit of participation!” Hu Jun pleaded. “And Xiao Yu, you’re the Monitor. You can’t just wash your hands of the biggest event of the term! Old Wan said the class committee needs to lead by example!”

Qiao Muyu was trapped by logic.

After a moment, he volunteered: “How about this? I’ll handle the logistics and security for the class. As for competing, go ask someone else.”

He figured if he couldn’t compete, he could at least work hard behind the scenes. Hu Jun sighed in relief. “That’s perfect! I can rest easy with you handling the supplies.”

Hu Jun then moved to the next seat to harass a new target.

“Hehe, Academic God Lu, sorry to bother you. Interested in an event?”

Qiao Muyu’s pen paused. A plan was formed.

I might be off the hook, but Lu Zhen shouldn’t get away so easily. Why not nudge him to sign up for a few things? That should distract him from his studies.

He turned around to join the “persuasion.”

“Sports Meet?” Lu Zhen looked over the form.

“Yeah, it’s at the end of the month. It’s fun!” Hu Jun, not knowing Lu Zhen well, asked, “By the way, Brother Lu, how are you at sports?”

“I’m alright,” Lu Zhen said.

Seeing that Lu Zhen hadn’t immediately refused, Qiao Muyu patted Hu Jun’s shoulder and chimed in with exaggerated enthusiasm: “Oh, that’s a big deal! When Lu Zhen says ‘alright,’ it means he’s a pro! Last time I asked about his grades, he said ‘alright’ and then took first place. Hu Jun, don’t let this dark horse slip away!”

Hu Jun’s eyes lit up. “Brother Lu, how about a sprint? You’ve got long legs, it’s perfect for you!”

Lu Zhen didn’t mind. “Sure.”

“Wait, one isn’t enough,” Qiao Muyu added. “What else is empty? Put Brother Lu down for those too!”

Hu Jun checked the list. “No one’s signed up for the long jump or the 1500-meter.”

Qiao Muyu waved a hand grandly. “Sign him up!”

“Well…” Hu Jun was tempted but hesitant. The 1500-meter was a nightmare; usually, he had to beg on his knees to fill that slot. He looked at Lu Zhen carefully. “Is that okay, Brother Lu?”

Lu Zhen raised an eyebrow at Qiao Muyu, seemingly sensing the ulterior motive.

Qiao Muyu just crinkled his eyes and gave him a harmless, “encouraging” smile. “I believe in you, Brother Lu. Good luck.”

Lu Zhen didn’t ask questions. He picked up the pen and signed. “Whatever.”

“Awesome!” Hu Jun almost cried. “Brother Lu, you’re my savior!”

With his plan successful, Qiao Muyu turned back to his desk, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips.

Run, run away, my little prince. Let’s see how tired you get.

…

Late October in Nanjian brought crisp, perfect weather. The long-awaited Sports Meet arrived on Thursday and Friday.

On Thursday morning, Qiao Muyu, as the acting “Logistics Manager,” dropped his bag and headed to the school store with his assistants, Du Jingfei and Xu Rongcan, to buy supplies.

As they reached the school gate, two black sedans pulled up.

Du Jingfei’s eyes bugged out at the logo. “Holy crap! A Bentley!”

“That car looks familiar,” Xu Rongcan muttered. Two seconds later, it hit her. “Wait! That’s Lu Zhen’s car!”

The passenger door opened, and a middle-aged man in a professional suit stepped out. He straightened his tie and reached for the rear door, but it was pushed open from the inside first. A shock of yellow hair emerged.

The man in the suit looked dejected. “Young Master Zhou, opening the door is my job.”

“I have hands,” Zhou Shengyuan said, annoyed. “And for the last time, don’t call me that. It’s weird.”

He grabbed his bag and marched into school. The butler sighed and watched him go.

Lu Zhen stepped out next and locked eyes with Qiao Muyu and his friends.

Xu Rongcan waved excitedly. “Morning, Academic God Lu!”

Lu Zhen whispered something to the butler, who nodded and walked over with a friendly smile.

“Hello,” the butler bowed slightly. “I am the Lu family butler, my name is Wang. You must be Young Master Lu’s classmates?”

Qiao Muyu suddenly sympathized with Zhou Shengyuan; “Young Master” really did sound like something out of a cringey drama. But Lu Zhen just stood there with a cold, neutral face, clearly used to it.

“Hello, Mr. Wang,” Qiao Muyu replied with a smile. “Is something the matter?”

“The thing is, I heard Young Master Zhou had a dispute with a student in your class and accidentally hit someone. Mr. Lu and Mrs. Xie wanted to apologize in person, but they are too busy. They sent me in their stead. I am truly sorry.”

Butler Wang bowed sincerely. “Please don’t hold a grudge against Young Master Zhou. He has a bit of a temper, but he is not a bad person at heart.”

The trio was taken aback by the formal apology. “It’s—it’s fine!” Du Jingfei stammered. “Hu Jun is tough. He was fine after two days. He definitely hasn’t taken it to heart.”

“Yeah,” Xu Rongcan added. “We don’t think he’s bad. He’s just a bit of a tsundere. Maybe we’ll even be friends later, haha.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Wang said. “Also, Mrs. Xie heard about the Sports Meet and prepared some supplies for your class as a token of her appreciation.”

“Supplies?”

“Yes, mostly for the athletes.” Wang adjusted his glasses and listed them off. “Sports drinks, glucose water, towels, wristbands, and of course, band-aids, bandages, and antiseptic—just in case of injuries. Oh, and some snacks for the spectators. I hope you like them.”

Qiao Muyu was stunned. These were the exact items they were about to go buy. It saved him a massive amount of effort. “Mr. Wang, you’re too kind. Please thank Mrs. Xie for us.”

“You’re very welcome,” Wang smiled. “Please follow me.”

Qiao Muyu expected a small box from the trunk. Instead, Wang waved at the second sedan. “Old Wu.”

The driver unlocked the doors. Wang opened the trunk and the back seat. Qiao Muyu was nearly rendered speechless by the sheer volume of supplies filling the entire car. “This much?”

Everything was individually packed in exquisite gift bags, looking more like wedding favors than school supplies.

“It’s not that much,” Lu Zhen said, standing by. “The non-athletes’ bags only have snacks and drinks. Old Wang prepared enough for two classes—half is for Zhou Shengyuan’s class. Our class only has 48 sets.”

48 sets is still insane!

Qiao Muyu felt a headache coming on. I’m not an octopus. How the hell am I supposed to carry all this back? Rich people’s social etiquette was truly beyond him.

Seeing Qiao Muyu staring at the mountain of gift bags in deep thought, Lu Zhen asked, “What’s wrong?”

Qiao Muyu looked up with a deadpan expression. “Can you find me a burlap sack? I’m going to have to drag these back.”

Lu Zhen: “…”