Chapter 239

Jie Zong still stuck to his usual routine: questioning and warning.

He claimed verbally he didn't care, yet threatened to call the police, asked friends to trace the IP, and vowed to uncover the person behind this "clown."

Jiang Nian looked at his phone and chuckled—who was he supposed to ask?

Police?

To be fair, let's not even consider whether Jienigui could find connections.

Even if he did, what then? This alternate account isn't registered under Le Zhi's real name.

Unless he hires a Conan, follows the clues step by step, deciphers everything, and finally traces it back to Young Master Le Zhi at the police station—only to realize he's flooded his own father's temple.

Laughable.

Jiang Nian scrolled to the end of the chat history and replied with one message.

"IMback (I'm back)."

"Ding ding ding! Super Million Q&A begins—truth or dare?"

Then he opened Zhou Yuting's chat window.

Compared to Jie, Zhou Yuting had no power to rely on, but was relatively calmer—she sent several long-winded messages, four or five hundred characters each, absurdly lengthy.

She rambled on and on, but the core was just five words.

Others did it too.

Jiang Nian struggled to keep a straight face—Zhou Yuting's absurdity was on par with Jienigui's.

Jienigui: I'm gonna find someone to catch you.

Zhou Yuting: Others did it too—why are you targeting only me?!

Every time he saw it, he laughed again.

Jiang Nian forwarded the same script he'd sent to Jie to Zhou Yuting—not because he couldn't customize it, but because it was unnecessary; they were too low-tier.

Wait until the Six-City Mock Exam—then hit them with something bigger.

By then, Le Zhi would have improved his scores dramatically, fully immersing himself in the scheme: infiltrating the answer group for a month, gathering evidence, and voluntarily reporting the criminal ring.

What? Le Zhi did it too?

But the scores are real—he could've solved every question on the test anyway.

Clearly, it's Young Master Le Zhi's talent and hard work.

So, how it's ultimately handled depends entirely on whether Le Zhi tries hard. If he slackens, reporting or not makes little difference—he'll still be socially dead.

This was also a bit of a test—to see if they'd still log into the alternate accounts.

What if they delete the accounts and run away?

Then there's nothing to be done—can't just take down Le Zhi along with them, can we?

These alternate accounts were given by Le Zhi—they're essentially handing Jiang Nian the self-destruct button. Men understand: backup hidden energy must never be shown lightly.

I put my buddy in my pocket, then kicked him into the ditch.

If he really did that, Le Zhi would remember it forever—before dying at seventy or eighty, he'd still whisper to his children beside the bed:

"He—damn it—the wound of betrayal never heals."

Right or wrong, Jiang Nian didn't care.

He wasn't Superman—he was one in a hundred thousand Zuzu.

His moral cultivation was near the bottom of Class Three—the floor was someone, he didn't know who, but someone definitely existed.

In short, this whole thing was about luring the willing and edge harassment.

The bell rang—it was the last evening self-study session, with periods three and four back-to-back.

In a flash, an hour passed.

Jiang Nian lifted his head again from the pile of test papers—only twenty minutes remained until dismissal. He paused his writing for a brief rest.

He propped his head on his hand, thinking about tomorrow's free wedding banquet—wondering how to handle it, he drifted into thought.

Li Hua stole Ma Guojun's eyeglass cloth and was carefully folding it into a tofu-block blanket.

In the front row, Ceng You tore open a Kissing Burn.

Ma Guojun played with a used correction tape, placing it on the desk like a dog on a leash—the rewound tape squeaked loudly when pulled.

Wu Jun Gu was reading Vista View—the magazine wasn't popular at Zhennan School.

It was too highbrow; the class didn't want to see the world—they just wanted weird folk tales, something lowbrow to laugh at.

He didn't care that his ex-girlfriend had been elected psychological committee member—since the breakup, they were strangers.

In fact, Wu Jun Gu wanted to laugh inside.

Could someone with a twisted mind become a psychological committee member? She had her own pile of negative emotions—how could she possibly help others eliminate theirs? She'd explode eventually.

Come to think of it, if he hadn't broken up with her, he'd be going to the wedding banquet with her tomorrow. Now he'd just have to make do—with his dead-end roommate.

He flipped the page gently, calm and elegant.

He thought: the whole world was full of idiots.

Fifteen minutes remained until evening self-study ended.

The entire classroom was restless; the back rows were showing off their own tricks.

Huang Cailang, across from Zhou Yuting, passed a note to Yang Qiming in the same row.

"Bro, are you eating breakfast tomorrow?"

Yang Qiming's eyelid twitched—he guessed Huang Cailang's intention. Tomorrow's wedding banquet? He'd probably be crawling in and out, clinging to the walls.

Young Master Yang was a respectable man; after the breakup, his allowance was more than enough—he didn't need to do this.

Besides, honestly, the wedding banquet food wasn't that great.

But could he say that?

Of course not—it would hurt Huang Cailang's pride too much. As the saying goes, through glory and ruin, I've been by your side; we've never lost. True brothers stand together through thick and thin!

Thinking of this, Yang Qiming smiled.

"I'm not eating."

Huang Cailang scratched his cheek, but ultimately didn't say, "Then, Brother, can I have your breakfast?"

"Then neither of us eats?" Yang Qiming shrugged, nodding.

"Fine."

How hungry can you get by skipping breakfast?

After school.

The whole class surged to their feet to leave; Yang Qiming instinctively called out to Huang Cailang.

"Let's go get some night snacks."

Huang Cailang refused: "Brother, I'm not hungry."

Yang Qiming couldn't hold back anymore: You little bastard are this insane—you're saving yourself for a big meal tomorrow noon, aren't you!

Fine, fine, fine.

He'd planned to treat him, but the words stuck in his throat. Would he overthink it? What if Cailang thought he looked down on him?

Forget it. Let's stand together.

How hungry can you get by skipping night snacks? Sleep it off! Tomorrow, wake up, go to class, and before you know it, it'll be noon.

Night was deep at the school gate.

Jiang Nian strolled lazily with Xu Qianqian as they turned onto the street beside the campus. At this hour, there were almost no cars, and people had gone to bed early; only the dim yellow streetlights remained.

"I ate at a new shop by the school's main gate this afternoon. Guess what?"

"Delicious?" Xu Qianqian asked.

"The first bite, I wanted to die. The second bite, I wanted to stab the boss." Jiang Nian walked under the streetlamp, backpack on his back, hands in his pockets.

"Then why did you take a second bite?" Xu Qianqian was baffled, unable to understand what boys were thinking. "Couldn't you just spit it out after the first bite?"

"Spit it on the boss's face?" Jiang Nian asked.

"You're stupid—he'd beat you up," Xu Qianqian offered a better idea. "Just stand up and spin around spitting—spit on the wall."

"If it were Xia Tian, I'd spit it into the air conditioner vent. If I were a customer in that shop, I'd never eat another bite."

Hearing this, Jiang Nian gave her a thumbs-up.

"That's why they call you a venomous woman."

"Get lost!" Xu Qianqian shoved him, angry. "I'm helping you analyze, and you still insult me—you despicable, shameless little man."

"I did spit it out, actually—into the bowl," Jiang Nian said. "But it's not my fault—it was that disgusting. There was a whole table watching me."

"I felt awkward, so I asked the boss if he had an antidote."

Xu Qianqian: "."

"No, I have to ask—why are local people's moral standards so low?" Jiang Nian lamented. "I don't understand why they can't just make it tasty."

Xu Qianqian glanced at Jiang Nian but said nothing.

"Setting aside your own loss, your moral standard is only slightly better than the boss's."

Jiang Nian walked backward in front of Xu Qianqian, arms spread.

"Anyway, I don't recommend you eat there."

Xu Qianqian snorted, but she noted it down anyway.

Though she didn't lack money, no one's money blows in from the wind. Spending cash to eat a mouthful of pig feed is unnecessary—if worse comes to worst, she could just eat Chi Shi.

But pig feed isn't even that expensive; comparing it to that almost insults pig feed.

It felt like spreading false rumors about pig feed.

Before going upstairs home, Xu Qianqian suddenly stopped him.

"By the way, here's something for you."

"What?" Jiang Nian turned.

In the stairwell, Xu Qianqian expertly stomped her foot—the voice-activated light lit up instantly.

She rummaged in her bag, pulled out something wrapped in a tissue. Under Jiang Nian's puzzled gaze, the tissue slowly unfolded.

A Three Kingdoms Magic Mage crispy noodle card—a Warlord Hero card.

"Here."

"Holy shit? Where'd you get this?" Jiang Nian took the card and stared at it under the stairwell light for a long time. "The glowing Ma Chao—I spent years as a kid trying to collect him."

"The teacher gave it as a snack reward. I ate the noodles and gave them away," Xu Qianqian tilted her head. "I remembered you always bought these, so I kept the card."

"The distributors sell them regionally—each place has different rare cards," Jiang Nian clutched it lovingly, his smile never fading.

"Hey, didn't you just complete the set today?"

Actually, collecting the whole set wasn't that hard—you could just find a group on the forum and order it. But if you bought the whole set at once, the joy of collecting vanished.

The greatest joy in stamp collecting is the process, the thrill of opening a pack—not the moment you complete it, then shove it into a drawer to gather dust, with no urge to even show it off.

As the saying goes: Use it often, keep it fresh—old fool.

"Now I really have to thank you—even though I didn't open the bag myself," Jiang Nian mumbled. "But since you got it, it's as if I got it."

Hearing this, Xu Qianqian raised an eyebrow.

"So how are you going to thank me?"

"Oh, oh, anything you want!" Jiang Nian started squirming. "But I don't have anything good—how about—"

Xu Qianqian froze for a moment, then turned and walked upstairs.

"How dare you repay kindness with betrayal!"

Jiang Nian sighed and shook his head.

"How can you not get my humor?"

He went upstairs to return home and quickly took a shower.

After drying his hair and returning to his room, he sat on the chair, staring blankly at the card on the desk.

Back in elementary school, he often collected and traded cards with his friends. He chewed on crispy noodles so hard his mouth bled, yet still insisted on eating only one serving a day.

Back then, the friend who went to Australia to become an Aussie boss had the most cards. He always had to play marbles with him to trick the cards out of his hands.

"Come to think of it, I wonder if Tree Boss has gotten his silver yet."

(End of Chapter)