Mo Fan the Scoundrel

The shrill voice had never quite stopped ringing in Mo Fan's ears...

Ai Tutu had actually stormed back to her room in a huff quite some time ago. It was just that her screaming had been so supernaturally relentless that the air itself took much longer to settle.

Mo Fan stretched out on the sofa and let out a long, slow breath.

Zhankong should have put in a word with these people. Even without definitive confirmation that he was alive, they at least hadn't bought into the story circulating outside — that he was utterly and completely dead.

Thinking about it, there had probably been quite a few people worrying about him these past weeks.

That feeling of being missed... it was really something. The breezy philosophy of *I'm fed, so the world can look after itself* was, in the end, just self-deception. Everyone needed to feel their existence mattered. If your life and death meant nothing to those around you — especially to people you were gradually coming to care about — then you might as well be dead. Or start over somewhere new.

The morning was bright and clear. Leaves that had drifted down through the night still carpeted the winding paths of the school and lay gently rippling across the surface of the small lake — an understated, melancholy beauty of early autumn.

Having slept soundly until dawn, Mo Fan set out for Pearl Academy with his two gorgeous housemates at his side. His mood could not have been more light and cheerful.

In all those domineering-CEO dramas, the scene always unfolded the same way: one drop-dead gorgeous girl on his left, one graceful and refined beauty on his right, the male lead striding forward with kingly dominance radiating from his every pore, wearing that devil-may-care smile that made every school bully and academic star bow their heads — his gaze so languid and imperious that anyone foolish enough to step in his path would receive a look that said, *I have a hundred ways to ruin your day, and I haven't decided which one to use yet...*

Mo Fan felt he was very close to achieving that ideal. The only thing missing was that his two lovely companions refused to cooperate in the slightest. Instead of walking demurely at his sides like devoted little followers, they had linked arms with each other and were striding ahead — every inch the haughty young misses they were.

"Sister Mu, look — it's Lin Tingyu! Zhou Shuming's lapdog!" Ai Tutu called out, striding along the main campus road and pointing at a young man ahead.

The young man had sharp ears. He turned immediately and looked Ai Tutu and Mu Nujiao up and down, then cast a glance at Mo Fan trailing close behind the two girls.

"Oh? The great Lady Ai has found herself a new errand boy?" A young male student stepped forward — dressed like a glamorous dandy, groomed to an almost excessive degree. He showed not the slightest concern for Ai Tutu's reputation as the campus little demoness, and his tone was nothing short of brazen. "Next time you trade up, at least find someone fair-skinned and devastatingly handsome. With a face like *that* — are you really sure he'll be useful to you, my lady? Or is he just your new human shield? If that's the case, he'd better actually have some ability behind him. We can't have another repeat of last time, when our boss Zhou Shuming knocked your old one flat in a single move. All show, no substance."

The dandy spoke in a languid, lilting drawl, and a single word surfaced in Mo Fan's mind without invitation: *effeminate*. He mentally stamped it onto the guy's forehead.

Wait — this guy had just insulted *him*.

Mo Fan's temper surged. He crossed the distance in two long strides until he was right in the dandy's face, fixing him with a sharp black stare. The guy was half a head shorter.

"What did you just say?"

The dandy wasn't rattled in the slightest. He tilted his chin up slightly and met Mo Fan's gaze with a sneer. "I said you're an errand boy. Does that bother you? Let me guess — you must be some Noble Clan's prized head disciple, or something along those lines..."

Mo Fan grabbed the dandy by his ornate bow tie and glared down at him. "Open your eyes and look at my face. Tell me *exactly* where I'm not devastatingly handsome!"

Beside him, Ai Tutu nearly twisted her ankle on her high heels upon hearing Mo Fan's indignant demand. She felt an overwhelming urge to smack him.

Mu Nujiao's lips gave a faint, involuntary twitch. She was genuinely speechless.

"Kid, I suggest you let go. Right now," Lin Tingyu said, his voice dropping to something sharp and cold. "Otherwise, I can't promise you won't be walking to the school infirmary with your own hands clenched between your teeth, begging the Healing Element teacher to reattach them."

He let Mo Fan grip his bow tie without attempting to pull free — but his eyes had gone glacial, his bearing utterly transformed from the affected playfulness of a moment ago.

"Impressive attitude. You insulted me. The old me would have thrown you out onto the main road to use as a doormat by now, without giving you a single second chance." Mo Fan had no intention of releasing his grip.

The tension between them hardened into something almost tangible. If aura had a visible form, theirs would have manifested as two turbulent orbs pressing against each other, locked in fierce collision like warring cosmos.

"Remember those words," Lin Tingyu said, his voice pure frost.

He was still speaking when a young man of slightly above-average height approached from the other side.

This person had presence. As he came near, the onlookers parted on their own, their faces wearing the gleeful expressions of bystanders who sensed that someone was about to have a very bad day.

"What's going on, Tingyu?" the tall young man asked, walking over with the effortless ease of someone who always commanded every room he entered. He even offered Mu Nujiao a polite nod and a smile as he spoke.

Clearly, he had come to take charge of the situation.

"Brother Dongfang, you saw it yourself." Lin Tingyu's voice was tight. "I cannot stand anyone touching my bow tie!"

"Some things, you just learn to live with," Mo Fan said pleasantly.

And because Mo Fan simply could not keep his hands to himself — already having poked at the exact sore spot he'd been warned not to touch — he gave the bow tie one last deliberate yank. It tore clean off Lin Tingyu's collar.

Lin Tingyu was about to completely lose it. The only thing that stopped him was the young man with the compound surname physically stepping into his path.

"You're *dead*!!" Lin Tingyu jabbed a finger at Mo Fan, his fury ratcheting up to an entirely different level.

Mo Fan tossed the bow tie aside without a second glance, meeting Lin Tingyu's eyes with a lazy, provocative look. "Men shouldn't wear things like that — too prissy, too frilly. Consider it a favor."

Lin Tingyu's face went an ugly shade of iron-grey.

He started to speak, but Mo Fan beat him to it: "Don't tell me — your other great personal intolerance is being called effeminate."

"I'm going to *kill* you!!!" Lin Tingyu lunged forward. If not for the crowd, he would have gone straight for his magic.

The young man with the compound surname grabbed him at once, physically hauling the furious dandy backward through the parted crowd by sheer force.

The gathered onlookers erupted in a collective murmur of disbelief.

Lin Tingyu had never once walked away from a confrontation, regardless of the setting. So why had he just... left?

Could it be that the person brazen enough to humiliate Lin Tingyu like this was actually someone with serious backing?

...

"That's so strange — they actually just left?" Ai Tutu said, sounding faintly disappointed that things hadn't escalated further.

"Mo Fan — do you know Dongfang Ming?" Mu Nujiao watched him carefully, as though she'd already seen through something.

Mo Fan shrugged, entirely unbothered. "Not really ringing any bells. The number of geniuses who've lost to me — if it's not ten thousand, it's eight thousand."

Some distance away, Dongfang Ming — who had just managed to haul Lin Tingyu clear — visibly stumbled mid-step.

He had come *so close*. One moment further, and Dongfang Ming, who already stood on the very edge of having his Tribunal Agent qualification stripped permanently, would have spun around and gone straight back in alongside the rage-blind Lin Tingyu.