Chapter 49: The Canary’s Self-Cultivation (14)

Ling Qiong let go, but did not step out from behind him, still only showing her head.

"What are you up to now?" Shen Han Deng frowned slightly, sounding impatient.

"Look at that person."

Ling Qiong motioned for Shen Han Deng to look at Zhao Yun Ye.

Shen Han Deng glanced over. Zhao Yun Ye was looking their way, and their gazes met briefly.

Zhao Yun Ye knew Shen Han Deng.

When Shen Han Deng was in his first year of high school, they were in the same class, though Shen Han Deng stopped coming to school after just a few days. Years had passed, and Shen Han Deng’s appearance had matured, but not changed much.

From Shen Han Deng’s eyes, Zhao Yun Ye saw only unfamiliarity and coldness—he probably didn’t remember him at all.

Zhao Yun Ye’s target was Ling Qiong. “Miss Ye, I mean no harm. I just have a few questions to ask you.”

“I don’t want to answer your questions.” Ling Qiong urged Shen Han Deng, “Let’s go.”

Shen Han Deng lowered his gaze and walked out.

Ling Qiong followed close behind, and Zhao Yun Ye didn’t dare chase after them.

“What did he want to ask you?” Shen Han Deng finally spoke after they’d walked a distance.

Ling Qiong muttered, “How would I know? He just suddenly popped up wanting to ask me questions—scared me to death.”

Shen Han Deng gave her a sidelong glance, his voice gloomy: “Let’s hope so.”

...

On Shen Han Deng’s second day at school, he quickly became a sensation in every circle.

That face alone was enough to make him stand out.

As a result, wherever he went, people took out their phones, snapping photos.

Girls passing by struggled to contain their excitement, unable to walk straight.

Young Master Shen kept his eyes forward, passing through the crowd as if walking a red carpet.

“Why did you call me over?” Ling Qiong asked.

Before, Shen Han Deng always waited for her in the car, but today he summoned her here.

Something was off!

Shen Han Deng said nothing, walking ahead in silence.

“…”

Ling Qiong thought he had something important to discuss, but it turned out they were just going to the cafeteria for lunch.

“Are you alright?” Ling Qiong tried to touch Shen Han Deng’s forehead, but he brushed her hand away coldly.

“You used to have Kelly deliver meals—why eat here now?” Is he sick?

Shen Han Deng maintained a dignified silence, completely ignoring Ling Qiong.

Fine.

Dad doesn’t care to talk to you anyway.

Shen Han Deng seemed to be inspecting the cafeteria rather than eating—the food on his plate barely touched.

Ling Qiong was picky too, so…

Shen Han Deng watched as she kept picking from his bowl. “Are you the young master or am I?”

Ling Qiong replied thoughtfully, “The young master should eat more.”

Shen Han Deng: “...”

You’re not eating, and you want me to eat more?

Who gave you the nerve?

Ling Qiong was ready for Shen Han Deng to get angry and prepared to flee.

But after staring at her gloomily for a few seconds, he didn’t explode. Instead, he picked up his chopsticks and took a bite.

After two bites, Shen Han Deng put them down. “Come with me somewhere tonight.”

Ling Qiong: “Me?”

Shen Han Deng: “Is there anyone else here?”

Ling Qiong: “Where?”

Shen Han Deng: “You talk too much.”

Ling Qiong poked at the bottom of her bowl with her chopsticks. “If I don’t ask, what if you sell me off?”

Shen Han Deng looked at her with slight disdain, as if saying, "How much could you possibly be worth?"

Ling Qiong wanted to shove his head into his plate.

She gritted her teeth and forced a smile, suppressing the urge. Be magnanimous, she thought—why argue with a paper person?

If he’s just a brainless pretty face, isn’t life easier!

...

The Lantern Festival.

It was a city tradition, held every year with a different theme. This year’s theme was "Descendants of the Dragon." Under the brilliant, colorful lights, crowds surged, lively and bustling.

Ling Qiong and Shen Han Deng entered through the gate.

The crowd clearly made Shen Han Deng uncomfortable; his body was tense.

Ling Qiong looked around, her dark, lively eyes reflecting the dazzling lights.

“Miss, could you help us take a photo?” A few young girls came over with their phones, asking Ling Qiong to take their picture.

Shen Han Deng refused first. “No.”

Ling Qiong replied, “They asked me, not you.” Why butt in—so self-important!

Shen Han Deng frowned, placed his hand on the back of Ling Qiong’s neck, and steered her forward, unreasonable and domineering. “I said no, so it’s no.”

“Oh, you…” The girls watched as Shen Han Deng led Ling Qiong away.

After a moment, they snapped out of it, clutching their faces with starry eyes. “He’s so handsome…”

“Handsome, but it’s not like we have a chance.”

“Can’t we at least look?”

...

At the festival’s center stood a giant dragon. Shen Han Deng, arms crossed, stood at the edge, watching.

Ling Qiong was distracted by something else and didn’t pay attention to him.

When Shen Han Deng returned with an ice cream and handed it to her, Ling Qiong instinctively looked up at the sky.

No rain.

Was Shen Han Deng’s mind really intact?

With his temper—always telling people to get lost—he actually bought her ice cream?

Was this ice cream safe to eat?

Could he have put something in it?

Ling Qiong hugged the ice cream, pondering for a moment. Perhaps this was the power of spending money.

Shen Han Deng didn’t like her staring. “What are you looking at?”

The girl smiled, “Young master, you’re good-looking.”

“…”

Shen Han Deng stared at her for a few seconds, but didn’t get angry.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked toward a quieter area.

Ling Qiong, eating her ice cream, followed slowly behind.

“Watch out!”

“Ah!”

It happened in an instant—a lamp post ahead suddenly toppled.

Shen Han Deng was directly beneath it.

He heard the sound and turned toward the lamp post, but it was too late to dodge.

The light in his pupils widened abruptly.

In a flash, Shen Han Deng felt himself shoved sideways by a force, his back hitting the ground as he rolled twice and stopped.

He was on top; Ling Qiong was underneath.

In the dim light, the girl’s expression was hard to see.

“Why am I always the one cushioning you?!” Ling Qiong snapped, “Get up, it hurts—a lot. You’re heavy.”

Shen Han Deng: “...”

He pushed himself up and, for once, didn’t wait for her to shout—instead, he helped her up.

This wasn’t the villa, with thick carpets.

Ling Qiong’s arms and legs were scraped, blood oozing out.

“Are you alright?”

“Are you hurt?”

Staff rushed over. Seeing Ling Qiong injured, they quickly called someone to take them to the hospital.

Shen Han Deng gripped Ling Qiong’s arm, supporting her with his body. “Can you walk?”

“Carry me.”

Ling Qiong said it as if it were only natural, almost like an order.

Shen Han Deng frowned.

“Hurry up.” Ling Qiong pressed his shoulder. “Who did I get hurt saving?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

Ling Qiong gave a fake smile, “Oh, so it’s my fault then.” Not cute at all, don’t want to care for him anymore, annoyed!

“...”

Shen Han Deng glanced around; too many people were watching.

He took a deep breath and crouched down, letting Ling Qiong climb onto his back.

——Little Theater——

Shen Han Deng: You dared to make me carry you!

Ling Qiong: Hmm?

Shen Han Deng: It’s my honor.