Chapter 79: The Transfer Student

"Last night, you were quite wild..."
She glanced at his immaculate suit and ascetic monk-like demeanor, teasing him lightly.
"Ah Hua, how did I serve you?"
"Your stamina was impressive."
Receiving her praise, a glimmer of desire flickered in his eyes. He then placed the breakfast the hotel staff had delivered in front of her.
"I saw you sleeping so deeply just now, I didn’t want to wake you. You must be hungry by now."
"After all the tossing and turning last night, I am pretty exhausted."
She regarded him with newfound respect. No wonder this man was known as a workaholic—after an entire night, he still managed to get up so early.
At her words, Fu Yanyan’s lips lifted almost imperceptibly.
She picked up the knife and fork to eat the steak, but whether intentionally or not, her hands seemed weak and unsteady. She finally tossed the utensils onto the table in frustration.
"This place doesn’t even have chopsticks?"
Zhong Huayan looked up and met the man's gaze before declaring, "What are you looking at? Help me cut it. My hands hurt."
"Alright. But, Ah Hua, is it only your hands that are weak?"
She flashed a wicked smile, quick with her retort.
He meticulously sliced her steak and then, using the knife, skewered a piece and brought it to her lips.
Watching her cheeks filled with food, he felt a rare, contented happiness.
After the meal, Zhong Huayan changed into her limited-edition outfit: a black camisole paired with fitted flared jeans and a denim jacket. The cut highlighted her waist and hips perfectly. Her hair flowed loose, lips painted red—a vision of knife flashes and sword shadows from the water towns of the south, carrying a beauty of the mundane world that made all the diners nearby turn their heads.
Some guests even wanted to approach her, but seeing the Phoenix Joy pendant at her throat, several men lost their nerve before such a stunning woman.
The assistant, holding some documents, entered the room. He caught Fu Yanyan glancing back at him while talking on the phone.
Quickly surveying the room—the messy bed, gardenia petals scattered across the floor, and even toys overturned from the minibar—the assistant felt like crying. He was doomed; he’d forgotten to knock today...

While trying to appear calm, though inwardly trembling, the assistant handed over the documents. Fu Yanyan ended his call, took the papers, and instructed, "Go tell the driver to get the car ready. These report figures aren’t good enough—go back to the company and push them a bit. In a few days, we’re going to Macau. Prepare the subsidiary’s project proposals and meeting agenda, and notify the vice chairman in Macau to attend the briefing. Also, print a summary of all our investment projects during this period. If you’re short on time, delegate some tasks to the secretary."
The assistant was surprised; the boss seemed to be in a good mood today.
It was all routine, and he didn’t even get scolded for not knocking.
He didn’t want to linger a second longer, making a swift exit—thanks to the lady of the house! Long live the lady of the house.
That day, Zhong Huayan went to school.
Jingfu University was practically home to her now; she came and went as she pleased, carrying an air of supreme confidence.
When she entered the classroom during a lesson, the room instantly erupted.
"Li Yanyan! We’ve been waiting for you forever!"
"Did you hear? The Xu family is basically bankrupt. Even Xu Chuyin has dropped out."
"Don’t mention it—Xu Chuyin, my idol, actually quit school... I could cry. Why did this happen?"
"Li Yanyan, you must know the inside story, right? Tell us, where did my idol go?"
The homeroom teacher knocked his book on the podium, pushing up his glasses.
"What are you all here for, to study or to gossip? If you don’t focus, what are you thinking about every day?"
Several girls, busy touching up their makeup, quickly put away their mirrors.
"Teacher, you don’t get it. In Jingfu University, the only guy worth mentioning is Xu Chuyin."
"Exactly. We’re not like those pretty boys at Haichi University—all the guys here are plain. Honestly, school is losing its appeal."
The teacher sneered, tossing his book aside, scattering the makeup products across one girl’s desk.
"What are you doing! Teacher, you—"
"You’re the worst class I’ve ever taught. Later, we’ll have a transfer student join us. Make sure to get along."
The mention of a new classmate instantly sobered everyone. Their eyes gleamed like hungry wolves.
"Who is it? Male or female? If it’s a girl, don’t blame us for hazing her."
"Ugh, why just one? Why not a few more guys? We barely have any boys in this class—the rest are all girls. The class is already small."

The teacher stooped to pick up his book, casually tossing the spilled makeup into the trash bin at the back.
"From now on, anyone caught doing makeup in class will have their things thrown away. Here’s some good news: next month, another new student will transfer in."
The girls began playing with their brightly colored nails, chatting excitedly.
"Fine, toss it. It’s not like I can’t afford more."
"Great, that means this month and next, there’ll be two new transfer students in our class."
"Don’t celebrate too soon. If they’re both girls, I’ll lose my mind."
"Yeah, and even if they’re boys, what if they’re both hideously ugly? I’ll be sick during class."
Zhong Huayan was used to this atmosphere—it was just a bunch of girls from well-off families, killing time at school.
She lay on her desk and pulled out her art materials from the drawer below.
Judging by the timeline, in a few days she’d need to finish her piece for the second round of the global art competition in Macau.
She’d advanced in the first round in Italy, but the competition in the second round would be even fiercer.
Rising to meet a challenge.
Macau… Three years ago, it was still dominated by tourism and gambling. In recent years, however, cultural influences had grown, and restrictions tightened. That’s likely why large companies were investing in art competitions—to dilute the influence of gambling, boost tourism, and attract talent. There must be a mastermind behind the scenes. In places like this, fortune and fate are taken seriously. For so many companies to invest in the arts, there must be something mystical at play.
She was leafing through her art book, searching for inspiration as the period neared its end.
Suddenly, the entire class fell silent, then erupted in screams.
"Oh my God! How did we get so lucky? Did my makeup just blind me?"
"This is insane! Every month something stranger happens, but this is the strangest yet."
Zhong Huayan looked up and saw a familiar face.
A man was wearing the Jingfu school uniform, which should have given him a sprightly look, but on him it conveyed a gentle, fragile elegance.
His pallor was not just from being thin and fair; his face was bloodless, yet his features were delicate. Every movement, even just standing, exuded a certain melancholic aura—somewhat decadent, yet proper, with a touch of frailty that made his presence utterly unique.
Fang Wenjin!