The atmosphere turned awkward.

Yet Hu Ming’s expression remained open, seemingly unaffected by the incident.

He gave Han Litian a slight bow before heading toward the gate.

“I’m truly grateful for your guidance all these years.”

Hu Ming’s final words made Han Litian whirl around—but Hu Ming had already vanished around the corner.

A hollow emptiness filled his chest.

*After all… he’d raised that child for over a decade…*

Han Litian lost all heart for his morning exercises. Then a voice sounded behind him.

“Father?”

He turned to see Han Shuyi standing there.

Pushing his worries aside, Han Litian focused on making up for lost time with his long-lost son.

“Up so early, Shuyi?”

“Mm. Back in the village, I’d be working the fields before dawn.”

Han Shuyi stated it calmly, like a simple fact. His words only deepened Han Litian’s ache.

Han Litian stepped forward, gently ruffling Han Shuyi’s hair.

“Sleep in whenever you like now. The maids will wake you.”

“Okay.” Han Shuyi nodded obediently, accepting the words without argument. His gaze drifted past Han Litian. “Was someone just here?”

“Oh, Hu Ming came back last night. He’s already off to school.”

“Does he… not want to see me?” Worry flickered across Han Shuyi’s face.

Han Litian patted his shoulder. “Even if Hu Ming isn’t our blood, we raised him. We have history. Just think of him as another brother, alright?”

Han Litian had braced for resentment—after all, Hu Ming had lived Han Shuyi’s life for years. But Han Shuyi’s quiet acceptance only twisted the knife deeper.

“I won’t,” Han Shuyi promised softly. “I’ll treat him like a brother.”

“Good.”

Watching his son’s earnestness, Han Litian could only hope Hu Ming wouldn’t stir conflict. Peace was all he wanted for this fragile family now.

He walked toward the backyard for his exercises.

Alone at the corner, Han Shuyi’s gentle smile vanished. His eyes narrowed slightly.

*Hu Ming seemed easy to handle… but he’s not what I expected.*

School fools fell for his act easily. Yet this family clung stubbornly to bonds. He couldn’t displace Hu Ming overnight.

*Guess I’ll need another approach…*

Han Shuyi turned sharply and strode straight to his room.

He didn’t notice the figure watching his every move from another shadowed corner.

***

Hu Ming arrived early at school.

As he stepped out of the car, he nearly collided with Ye Qiuxue.

Her mind flashed back to yesterday’s conversation as she looked at him.

“President, good morning,” Hu Ming greeted her warmly.

Ye Qiuxue’s face stayed calm, but she delivered her promised reply.

“I said I’d give you my answer today. Wait for it during morning exercises.”

“Oh? Then thank you, President.” Hu Ming accepted gracefully.

But the moment he entered the gate, the Student Council President’s aura hit him.

Ye Qiuxue turned slowly, clipped her armband on with practiced ease, and stood rigidly by the entrance.

She pulled out a notebook and pen, ready to record. Her strict, by-the-book demeanor sent chills down even Hu Ming’s spine. *How did the original owner of this body ever pick a fight with her?*

***

Time flew fastest during breaks.

Hu Ming watched classmates trickle into the classroom. Some were already scrambling to copy homework.

Don’t think honor students never cheated—they just tweaked details to avoid detection.

“Han Huming, need homework copies? Same price: ten bucks a set.”

A boy’s voice cut through the chatter. He stood before Hu Ming, chin lifted like he was granting a favor.

Hu Ming raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Ten bucks a set? Will you write it for me?”

“Hah? Ten bucks and you expect me to *write* it? Be grateful anyone’s offering! Look around—no one else will help you.”

The boy gestured broadly. Indeed, no one neared Hu Ming’s desk.

Hu Ming tapped his chin, studying the boy with amused interest.

“How about this: I’ll pay you an extra hundred. Just name everyone who messed with my desk yesterday. Cash on the spot.”

His voice carried deliberately across the silent classroom.

Every head turned. The boy’s smirk vanished, replaced by panic.

“I didn’t see anything yesterday!”

“Didn’t see? Fine. I’ll pay one hundred per name. Point out a few people—easy money, right?” Hu Ming’s tone was generous, the careless heir everyone remembered.

Han Shuyi glanced back from his seat. *Is he truly this reckless… or playing a deeper game?*

The boy’s eye twitched. “Money? Whose money is this anyway? It’s Han Shuyi’s cash!”

Hu Ming pulled a thick stack of bills from his bag and slapped a thousand yuan onto the desk.

Silence crashed over the room.

This was the real Han Huming—the one no one dared provoke. Yesterday’s meek ghost was gone.

Hu Ming’s eyes locked with Han Shuyi’s, his smirk sharp with challenge.

Han Shuyi’s face darkened. *Blatant provocation.*

But he couldn’t react. If Han Litian learned of Hu Ming’s “suffering” at school, his parents would cling even tighter to their adopted son.

The boy stammered, “Freak!” before fleeing to his seat.

Hu Ming left the money on the desk. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the wood, shattering the quiet again.

“Anyone can speak up. Before the morning bell rings—tell me who did it, and this cash is yours.”

He added with a light chuckle,

“No extensions.”