Han Juyou’s hand was cool to the touch, her palm smooth and delicate like a polished piece of Hetian jade. Yet Liu Muye could distinctly feel the callus between her ring and middle fingers.
How could a girl’s hand have calluses?
Did she cook at home?
Did no one help her carry heavy things?
Was she working to earn money…
After pulling Liu Muye out of the classroom, Han Juyou only let go of his hand once they’d walked some distance away.
Liu Muye glanced at his hand, then at her, and asked, “That girl just now…”
Han Juyou said, “She’s from our dorm, Sun Zihan.”
Sun Zihan and Zhang Ning were the other two roommates in the four-person dorm shared by Han Juyou and Shangguan Yurou.
In the original novel, Liu Muye had barely written any scenes for these two girls, mentioning their names only in passing.
Liu Muye asked, “You don’t get along with those two roommates?”
“It’s not that we don’t get along,” Han Juyou mused. “Sun Zihan and Zhang Ning come from well-off families, so they usually stick together. Yurou and I are closer, probably because our family backgrounds are similar.”
Since Shangguan Yurou had hidden her true identity, Han Juyou mistakenly assumed they were on the same financial level.
Liu Muye couldn’t help but laugh. “Four people in one dorm split into two factions—girls’ dorm dynamics are so complicated.”
Han Juyou shrugged. “At least we don’t have a dozen separate group chats.”
“Ha.” Liu Muye gave a dry chuckle.
Han Juyou gritted her teeth and blurted, “If Sun Zihan tries to pursue you… you’re not allowed to say yes!”
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Liu Muye was handsome, rich—wasn’t it normal for girls to chase after him? She had no right to meddle in his affairs. It made her seem nosy.
“Oh, got it.”
Liu Muye’s casual response surprised her. She turned to look at him, thinking, Why is he suddenly so obedient? Did he answer so firmly because he already likes someone…?
Liu Muye, however, wasn’t overthinking it.
He wasn’t even interested in the novel’s most sought-after female lead—why would he fall for a minor side character with barely any screen time?
The two ate dinner together in the cafeteria. Checking the time, Liu Muye sighed inwardly—today was only Wednesday. Four more days of this “broke rich kid” act before his funds were unfrozen.
As the saying goes: Accustomed to frugality, luxury comes easy; accustomed to luxury, frugality is agony.
After days of lavish spending, having his accounts frozen was a harsh adjustment.
Just then, Liu Muye received a message from Instructor Zhao, summoning him to the office after dinner.
Probably another trivial task.
Such was the life of a university class president—endless chores.
He parted ways with Han Juyou at the cafeteria entrance.
Walking to the office, Liu Muye grew increasingly unsettled…
He’d transmigrated into this novel, failed at playing the rich heir, messed up the plot, somehow became class president, and now had to deal with mundane duties—how did any of this make sense?
This is absurd!
Me, the young master of Siliya Academy, reduced to a lackey for some lowly instructor?
Screw this. Whoever wants to be class president can have it—I quit!
Having made up his mind, Liu Muye strode briskly to Zhao Chang’s office.
He pushed the door open and announced, “Hey, Zhao, listen up—I’m done being this damn class presi—Dad?!”
His words died in his throat as he spotted Liu Chenghan inside.
The office staff were fawning over his father—offering cigarettes, pouring tea, even fanning him—as Liu Chenghan lounged in an armchair like an emperor.
The moment Liu Muye entered, Liu Chenghan waved off his attendants and rushed over to envelop his son in a bear hug.
“Son!”
Liu Muye returned the embrace lightly. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
“Heard you became class president—I’m so proud I had to see you!” Liu Chenghan beamed up at him. “That’s my boy, always excelling! I’ve decided to unfreeze your accounts early and add two more zeros to your allowance as a reward.”
Liu Muye immediately tightened his grip. “Dad, I love you—love you so much!”
“Cough, cough—” Liu Chenghan patted his back. “Ease up, kid—you’re crushing me.”
Chastened, Liu Muye loosened his hold and reined in his excitement.
Liu Chenghan studied him. “You were saying something when you came in?”
“Uh… haha, nothing! Just mumbling!” Liu Muye forced a laugh.
His accidental class presidency had pleased Liu Chenghan—no way was he risking angering him now by quitting.
The secretary chose the worst moment to interject: “Sir, I believe the young master said he didn’t want to be class president anymore.”
“Hmm?” Liu Chenghan’s brow furrowed.
Liu Muye waved frantically. “Misheard! I clearly said, ‘If I don’t lead this class, who will? The presidency is mine to bear!’”
“Now that’s ambition!” Liu Chenghan clapped his shoulder. “Son, your old man believes in you. Manage your class well now, and after graduation, the company’s yours.”
“Yes, Dad.” Liu Muye adopted a solemn expression. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.” Liu Chenghan released him. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Liu Muye nodded eagerly. “Safe travels, Dad.”
“Young master, your car.”
The secretary presented Liu Muye’s keys with reverence.
“Mm. Noted.”
Liu Muye accepted them with practiced nonchalance.
Once his father and the secretary departed, he plopped into Liu Chenghan’s vacated seat—back on top where he belonged.
The fawning staff immediately redirected their attention to him.
Liu Muye eyed Zhao Chang. “Hey, Zhao.”
“Y-yes, Young Master Liu!” Zhao Chang scurried over, bowing. “How may I serve you?”
Liu Muye sipped tea leisurely. “Nothing major. Now that you know who I am, you understand my schedule’s packed. So…”
Zhao Chang nodded vigorously. “Understood! The class requires minimal oversight—rest assured, your presidency will be effortless.”
“Good. Very good.”
Seeing Zhao Chang being so cooperative, Liu Muye was thoroughly pleased. Serving as a nominal class monitor meant no actual work, while also currying favor with his father—it was an absolute win.
Setting down his teacup and grabbing his car keys, Liu Muye left the office.
…
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