Cheng Yu hadn’t actually wanted to say so much.

A quiet guy like him, having just shown off in front of classmates, then lecturing them—it’d only make him seem arrogant. Worse, like he was gloating after a lucky break.

But Zhao’s earlier words sparked a grim suspicion.

Zhao had said: *If Cheng Yu hadn’t stepped in, he might’ve fought Tiger Cub’s gang in a blind rage.*

So… if Cheng Yu hadn’t come to the bar tonight? Would tragedy have already struck?

In that instant, Cheng Yu understood why the system had nudged him here. Zhao gets hurt. Then other classmates. The whole class dragged in. A butterfly effect. Another death-by-cleaver ending. Game over.

…Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

He had to protect himself *and* those around him. Avoid butterfly effects leading to cleaver endings.

*That’s* why he’d lectured them. Hoping they’d cause less trouble. Stir up less chaos.

“Why does my mission keep getting harder…?”

Cheng Yu sat on the bar’s front steps, muttering under his breath. He sighed, his face etched with gloom.

A slender hand appeared before him. Holding a Budweiser.

“Thanks,” Cheng Yu mumbled automatically, reaching for it—then froze. A faint camellia scent brushed his nose.

He snapped his head up. A delicate face hovered inches away. The girl blinked in surprise at his sudden movement, then melted into a tender, sweet smile.

More captivating than a moonlit night-blooming cereus.

Cheng Yu jolted back as if electrocuted. Stammering:

“L-L-Linsw Lin!?”

“Why look at me like I’m a ghost?” She pouted, feigning hurt. “I came to thank my hero. You’re crushing my poor heart.”

Cheng Yu forced himself to stay calm. After a pause, he took the bottle.

She’d gone this far. Even if he wanted to avoid her, outright rudeness wouldn’t do.

But Linsw Lin didn’t leave. She plopped down beside him on the steps, propping her chin on one palm. The other hand held her beer. She grinned.

“Clink?”

“Thanks, Cheng Yu.”

*System! Where’s the system?! Help!*

The ever-chatty system had gone silent the moment Blade Brother left. No options. No prompts.

Without it, Cheng Yu had no idea how to handle Linsw Lin. He numbly clinked bottles and gulped down a bitter mouthful.

Silence stretched. Linsw Lin just watched him, chin still in hand.

Camellia fragrance drifted on Beijing’s night breeze. Tempting him to look at the girl beside him. Cheng Yu stared rigidly into the distance.

“You… weren’t hurt earlier?” he finally asked, voice stiff.

“Me? They never came for me.” She giggled. Paused. Then softly:

“Besides… didn’t I have Cheng Yu here?”

The same words others had said. But from her lips, they made his heart hammer like ten thousand stampeding alpacas.

*She’s the girl I once chased.*

Then reality crashed back. *She’s the girl who’s cleavered me a hundred times.*

Inside, a chorus of warnings screamed: *DON’T YOU DARE COME CLOSER!*

Cheng Yu’s throat locked. Words died. He chose silence.

He didn’t see Linsw Lin’s expression shift—playful curiosity deepening into something warmer. A blush bloomed on her cheeks.

She curled in on herself, inching closer. Her whisper barely carried:

“The wind’s… really strong tonight.”

*Yeah. And potato chips are half-price next door.*

Cheng Yu deadpanned internally, forcing calm. He glanced at her thin clothes.

“Linsw Lin… bundle up. It’s freezing. Don’t catch a fever—”

His voice choked off.

A forgotten memory surged—sharp, urgent.

Cheng Yu’s face drained of color. He dropped the beer, shot upright, and sprinted back into the bar.

Classmates watched, startled. But he barreled past them, yanked open his backpack at his seat, and grabbed Zhou Weihua from the booth.

“Everyone—I have to go! Head home early! Goodnight!”

He bolted out without another word, brushing past Linsw Lin.

“Cheng Yu…” she called after him.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t pause. Just dragged Zhou Weihua into the night.

Linsw Lin watched his fading silhouette. Her voice was a wistful murmur:

“Cheng Yu… ran away again…

Why does he always do this? Every time I try to get close… he flees. Never looks me in the eye.

Always treated like this…

Cheng Yu…

…really *is* different from other boys.”

Her wistfulness melted into raw fascination. She pressed burning palms to her flushed cheeks as his figure vanished into Beijing’s neon-lit streets.

“Ahhh… I want to make Cheng Yu all mine. The more he runs, the more I want to chain him to my side.

I want to see this cold Cheng Yu flustered for *me*. Learn every secret he hides. Make him *mine* alone.

I… want to own every piece of Cheng Yu~♡”

Streetlight glinted off her dilated pupils—two feverish stars mirroring her obsession.

“No matter how far you run… I won’t give up.

Because you… are *my* prince~♡”

…………

Meanwhile, the “prince” himself was sprinting down the boys’ dorm hallway, roommate in tow.

Two familiar figures slumped like wet sandbags outside their dorm room. Seeing Cheng Yu and Zhou Weihua, they raised drunken hands in greeting:

“Brother Cheng… Brother Hua… heheh… you’re back… forgot keys… no one answered…”

“Quiet! QUIET!”

Cheng Yu fumbled his key into the lock, panic clawing his throat.

*How could I forget something so vital?*

*How could I forget something that could kill?*

He threw the door open, ripped a bag from his backpack, and yelled:

“LIN JIE!!! WAKE UP!!! I’VE GOT THE MEDICINE!!!!”

Darkness swallowed the room. Only hallway light spilled in, catching a trembling hand reaching weakly from a bed.

A voice rasped—dry as ancient bones, burning its last strength:

“…medicine————”

The hand dropped. Lifeless.

““LIN JIE!!!!!””

The scream tore through the dormitory. Raw. Grief-stricken. Enough to make strangers weep.

That night, Lin Jie’s fever hit 40°C. Cheng Yu and the others rushed him to Beijing Third Hospital. Lin Jie spent the entire weekend recovering.

The incident ended with Cheng Yu’s apology—and a promise to fetch Lin Jie’s cafeteria meals for a week.