In the evening, Luo Heng and the others returned from the mountains after picking mushrooms. Feng Chi handed the mushrooms over to the chef to deal with.

The mountains were at high altitude, and the local area was rich in highland goats. That night, they used local ingredients and everyone ate a mushroom and mutton hot pot together.

The result was that the whole group turned out to be Ye Gong who loved dragons—when picking mushrooms, each one of them was more enthusiastic than the next, boasting to the skies. But once the mutton hot pot was served, they pushed and shoved one another, none of them daring to eat, afraid the mountain mushrooms might be poisonous.

“No, I can’t. My family has had a single heir for nine generations, I haven’t left descendants yet. I can’t let my parents down.”

“I can’t either. Someone like me, a heaven-chosen ox-horse at the bottom of society, still has to devote myself entirely to society, can only end up wrapped in horsehide on the battlefield—I can’t die of poisoning.”

“Pah! You’re using idioms all wrong. The Earth really wouldn’t be lacking anything if it were short one illiterate like you!”

…

A bunch of grown men, too scared to even eat mushrooms—Si Tian found this utterly contemptible. She was just about to set an example for them, to let them see what a true heroine was like, when she saw Meng Yanxi ladle himself a bowl of soup and calmly drink it.

The group immediately stopped arguing and all looked at him in unison.

Meng Yanxi took a sip and commented, “The taste is pretty good.”

Jin Zhao felt deep admiration for him, and Zhao Yu voiced what she was thinking: “Is the big shot also this careless about his life?”

Luo Heng immediately went with the wind: “Since that’s the case, then I’ll accompany one!”

“That’s right. Meng Yanxi has already tested the poison with his own body, what does a mere ox-horse like me have to fear? I’ll accompany one too!”

Jin Zhao watched from the side, dumbfounded. After all these years, how were these people still like the chuunibyou boys of their youth? It was just a meal, how had they managed to eat with such a sense of facing death with heroic resolve?

Those who knew understood they were eating mushrooms; those who didn’t would think an imperial decree had been issued granting poisoned wine.

Noticing her gaze, Meng Yanxi turned to look at her.

Warm-colored light fell from overhead, casting shadows from his long lashes, making his peach-blossom eyes look very deep.

Jin Zhao felt guilty and hurriedly offered a random bit of flattery: “You’re very brave.”

Meng Yanxi froze for a moment, then quickly raised an eyebrow. He didn’t say anything, just turned and finished the bowl of mushroom soup in one go.

Lu Jingyue, who had witnessed the entire process from the side: “……”

He’d managed to show off again.

The truth was, even if you lent Feng Chi ten times the courage, he still wouldn’t dare serve problematic mushrooms. Put it this way: if Meng Yanxi fell here tonight, before dawn tomorrow the Feng family would be finished.

Most likely those mushrooms had been specially selected by professionals; before being served, the head chef and Feng Chi had even taken turns testing them for poison.

Modern people get energetic once night falls. After dinner, the group gathered again to play UNO and mahjong.

Jin Zhao felt that, in a way, Li Jin’s stereotype of her wasn’t entirely off. Her personality really was rather boring. She didn’t know how to play games, didn’t know how to play mahjong. As it turned out, this group must have been crazy—she had only just said, “I don’t know how to play UNO…”

Zhao Yu grabbed her and dragged her to the mahjong table. “Alright then, you come play mahjong!”

Jin Zhao: “?” Is this some kind of mutually exclusive option?

“I don’t know how to play mahjong either,” Jin Zhao hurriedly added the second half.

But over on the mahjong side, Luo Heng, Lu Jingyue, and Zhao Yu were already seated at the table, three short of one and howling for a fourth. No one had any intention of letting her go.

Lu Jingyue: “It’s very simple. Once I explain the rules, you’ll know how.”

Jin Zhao had zero trust in Lu Jingyue.

To this day, she still remembered that night nine years ago—Lu Jingyue had used the same sincere tone to tell her that Dou Dizhu was very simple, then turned around and crushed her, and even maliciously asked her whether she would save Meng Yanxi or one million if they both fell into the water at the same time.

“I’d better not…” Jin Zhao stood up, wanting to run.

Zhao Yu pressed her down with one hand. “Don’t be like that, just play for a bit!”

Lu Jingyue looked at her with a half-smile, then added meaningfully, stabbing one more knife in: “Relax, we’re not playing Truth or Dare today.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

In the end, naturally, she was stuck riding the tiger. After her disastrous defeat at Dou Dizhu nine years ago, Jin Zhao was once again forced to play mahjong.

By the time Meng Yanxi disengaged from the card game over there and came to look at her, she had already lost so badly it was hard to look at. There was almost nothing left of the chips in front of her, while the pile in front of Lu Jingyue was stacked like a small mountain.

Meng Yanxi stood behind Jin Zhao and cast a calm glance at Lu Jingyue across from them.

As for Jin Zhao, she had already reached the point of being a dead pig not afraid of boiling water—completely flat, just wanting to hurry up and lose so she could go back to her room and sleep. But Meng Yanxi suddenly came over and lingered behind her, and she couldn’t help but become flustered again.

No one wants to look like an idiot in front of the person they like.

Unfortunately, Lu Jingyue had not the slightest intention of showing adult consideration, and instead seemed to deliberately oppose her, pressing her relentlessly. Jin Zhao racked her brains and barely drew a seven of bamboo, just about to discard it.

“Don’t move.”

Meng Yanxi suddenly bent down and pressed her hand.

A warmth that didn’t belong to her appeared on the back of her hand. At the same time, the cool scent of mountain pine and mist wrapped around her from behind. Meng Yanxi stood at her left side, his right hand circling from behind her, his whole body leaning toward her in a posture like drawing her into his arms from behind.

Although aside from her hand, he maintained strict restraint and didn’t touch her body anywhere else, the posture was still far too intimate. Jin Zhao only felt that the thin layer of air between them suddenly ignited, and in an instant her mind was burned blank.

“Bang!”

The red dragon hit the mahjong table.

“Play this one.”

Meng Yanxi tilted his head slightly, his voice slipping in from the roots of her ears. At the same time, he straightened up, his body returning to an upright stance.

The entire process was smooth and flowing, completed in a flash, leaving only Jin Zhao in utter chaos.

Without any suspense, Meng Yanxi played out the rest of this round.

Later on, he simply didn’t even stand up anymore, maintaining a slightly bent posture—one hand braced on the tabletop, the other reaching in front of her to draw tiles, discard tiles, and take tiles.

Jin Zhao couldn’t help staring at his hand.

Cool white skin, fingers especially long, knuckles prominent—her gaze involuntarily fixed on the sexy blue veins on the back of his hand.

She forgot where she had read a study saying that a man’s secondary sexual characteristics, in a certain sense, included not only the Adam’s apple, but also the veins on the back of the hand. Because usually such men represent frequent exercise, low body fat, and good stamina. Or, put more bluntly, strong sexual capability.

Thump, thump—the sound pounded in her ears, fast and heavy. In her daze, Jin Zhao couldn’t tell whether it was her own heartbeat, or the sound of mahjong tiles striking the table.

With Meng Yanxi’s help, Jin Zhao finally won this round. Yet there wasn’t a trace of joy in her eyes at winning money—she felt as though her entire body was soaked through.

Even though the air conditioner was on.

As soon as this round ended, Jin Zhao immediately stood up and let Meng Yanxi take her place.

Lu Jingyue really was incorrigibly bad—at this moment he was still stirring things up, asking with a troubled expression, “Then how do we count the money? Count it as yours, or as Meng Yanxi’s?”

Luo Heng laughed and chimed in, “Yue-ge, listen to what you’re saying—do you think this is you and me? Drawing such a clear line.”

Jin Zhao: “……” Why don’t you two go do cross talk together?

Meng Yanxi looked at her and said, “If I lose, it counts as mine. If I win, it counts as yours.”

How could Jin Zhao accept that? She hurriedly said, “No need, no need. I was already about to lose everything anyway—if I lose, count it as mine; if I win, count it as yours.”

She felt this arrangement of hers was really quite fair. Although she wasn’t wealthy either, this trip had all been arranged by Meng Yanxi and the others—losing a bit of money could count as going Dutch. But when Meng Yanxi heard this, he raised an eyebrow and asked unhurriedly, “Do you think I’ll lose?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

Such a well-hidden reverse scale—caught completely off guard!

She couldn’t afford to offend any of these people and decisively chose to go back to her room to sleep. Naturally, she didn’t see that once Meng Yanxi sat down, he won three rounds in a row, ruthlessly crushing Lu Jingyue’s momentum.

In the blink of an eye, the chips in front of the three of them were reduced by half, all piled over by Meng Yanxi’s side.

Zhao Yu was completely convinced. She hadn’t even processed what had happened and could only ask, shocked and offensively, “Big shot, did you cheat?”

Luo Heng didn’t even entertain such delusions. With heartfelt admiration, he gave him a thumbs-up. “Worthy of the God of Wealth—anything that touches money, there’s no game you can’t win!”

Only Lu Jingyue glanced in the direction Jin Zhao had left and asked with a roguish grin, “How does it feel? Pretty much like parading in brocade at night, huh?”

Meng Yanxi gave him a blank look. The next moment, a mahjong tile in his hand suddenly went “whoosh” and flew at him.

Lu Jingyue barely caught it, he nearly got hit in the face. He wisely shut his mouth and didn’t dare lightly tease the tiger again.

After returning to her room, Jin Zhao went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Although everyone called them rooms, the rooms here weren’t hotel-style standard rooms. Each one was an independent suite. For example, Meng Yanxi’s was a small courtyard in the mountains; Jin Zhao and Si Tian also lived in a suite, just built to take advantage of the natural cave terrain, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea of clouds at sunrise and the rolling mountain ridges.

When Jin Zhao finished showering and came out, a fine rain had begun to fall outside. Si Tian was back as well, sitting cross-legged on the living room sofa, fiddling with her phone.

Seeing Jin Zhao come out, she excitedly waved her phone. “Zhao Zhao, come quick and look! I won 816 yuan tonight!”

Jin Zhao smiled and walked over.

Si Tian hugged the phone to her chest. “Even though I know gambling is wrong, this is really the only happy thing I’ve had all year!”

Jin Zhao laughed. “That’s not that exaggerated.”

Taking the opportunity, Si Tian launched into a fierce rant about the misery of being a working stiff.

Doctors were a typical essential-support industry. When others rested—whether National Day or Spring Festival—they were always on duty. Even these seven days off were something Si Tian had wrung out of the department director by pestering him relentlessly, using the excuse that she needed to go on blind dates.

“It’s all Luo Heng’s crow mouth—he kept calling me miserable, and now look, one word becomes prophecy.” Si Tian summed it up neatly. “Killed and burned people in a past life; studied medicine in this one.”

“You’re the more clear-headed one. You decided to be a teacher from a young age,” Si Tian said, then abruptly changed the topic. “By the way, there were a lot of people today, and I never found a chance to ask you—why did you suddenly go abroad in your third year of high school? You never mentioned it before. We all thought you’d go to university in China. We had no mental preparation at all—especially Meng Yanxi. When you didn’t show up at the start of senior year, he even went to ask Shu-jie. Shu-jie said you’d gone abroad. You have no idea how bad Meng Yanxi’s temper was during that period. He’s usually cold and doesn’t like dealing with people, but back then it wasn’t just that—when he looked at people, his eyes were like knives. No one knows how Ji Haoxuan provoked him; he directly beat him up in the classroom.”

“Meng Yanxi beat up Ji Haoxuan?” Jin Zhao’s eyelid twitched.

“Yeah. He went at him really hard. There were so many people in the classroom at the time, no one could stop him. Luckily, Shu-jie showed up in time. After that, the parents were called in; Uncle Meng even came to the school. I don’t know how they talked it out, but in the end Ji Haoxuan transferred schools, and Meng Yanxi, because he assaulted a classmate and also refused to do a self-criticism under the national flag, had his recommendation-based admission qualification canceled.”

Jin Zhao’s vision went black. “You’re saying… Meng Yanxi had his recommendation-based admission qualification canceled?”

They had all slogged through mountains of books and seas of exam questions. Putting herself in his shoes, Jin Zhao didn’t dare imagine what she herself might have done.

“It was canceled. But it turned out okay, later Meng Yanxi took the college entrance exam normally and still got first place in the entire city.” Si Tian sighed. “Sure enough, the strong never complain about their environment. But he seemed unwilling to leave Suiyi. With such a high score, he neither went to Qingbei nor accepted the olive branches from famous overseas universities, and ended up studying at Suida.”

Only then did Jin Zhao feel a little better, though Meng Yanxi beating Ji Haoxuan might not necessarily have been related to that matter.

Si Tian looked at her and asked cautiously, “Zhao Zhao, when you suddenly went abroad back then—was it related to Ji Haoxuan?”

Outside the window, the wind picked up. The wind and rain weren’t heavy, but mountain winds were always full of low, wailing sounds, inexplicably unsettling.

Jin Zhao sat beneath the lamp. The light was warm and soft. Her apricot eyes lowered as she hid the gloom in their depths.

She didn’t speak for a long while. Si Tian immediately took the hint and was about to change the subject when Jin Zhao suddenly said, “I didn’t go abroad. That year, I just transferred schools.”

“Transferred schools?” Si Tian was startled. “Transferred where? If it was just a transfer, then why say you went abroad?”

Yes—clearly it was just a transfer. Why, then, had she done it in secret, telling everyone she had gone abroad?