“Dull as a puppet.”

That was Chen Yaoyi’s sole remark. He set the first-aid kit on the highest step of the cafeteria entrance, then returned to gently guide the dazed Lu Zixuan back to sit.

At first, she resisted—but her strength was no match for his. After two half-hearted struggles, she lowered her head and let him lead her without protest.

A men’s suit jacket lay spread on the ground—clearly his. After a moment’s hesitation, Lu Zixuan reluctantly obeyed and sat upon it.

The soaked hem of her skirt brushed the thin fabric between her and the cold ground, sending an icy sting through her. Only then did she notice the faint cuts on the underside of her thighs.

Of course. She’d collapsed straight onto the shattered vase. To have only her palms injured would’ve been lucky. But Lu Zixuan had never been a lucky person.

She wasn’t blind to the truth: she was a puppet. Yet even knowing she was a marionette changed nothing. Once the strings were tied, escape was impossible.

So better to pretend ignorance—spare herself the pointless frustration and regret.

Let others call it cowardice. Cowardice was shameful, yes—but it worked.

“Hiss—”

Flashlight clenched between his teeth, Chen Yaoyi used tweezers to extract the last shard from Lu Zixuan’s palm. The moment it pulled free with the blood, her face twisted in agony, a choked gasp escaping her lips.

He merely glanced at her sweat-drenched forehead and contorted expression before returning to his task.

Truth was, the school infirmary could’ve handled this—but it was empty today. No choice but to do it himself.

He’d sent Lu Zixuan to wait at the cafeteria entrance while he checked the infirmary first. He hadn’t expected things to escalate like this. Making her wait there was just to intimidate Liu Yiyi.

After all, it fit Lu Zixuan’s role as the villainess—what harm in letting some blond side character use her?

But Chen Yaoyi never imagined *she’d* be the one hurt. And bound by his role, he couldn’t intervene openly.

He had to maintain his butler disguise until next Saturday—when Liu Yiyi stayed overnight at Xia Tianle’s. That night, a “drunken” Chen Yaoyi would enter her room and sleep with her before Xia Tianle arrived.

Xia Tianle would catch them, beat the butler senseless, and exile him from Shangjing City.

In this revolting plotline, Xia Tianle would then propose to Liu Yiyi and annul his engagement to Lu Zixuan. But until now, Lu Zixuan hadn’t done anything truly despicable enough to turn everyone—including the Xia family—against her.

The Xia family didn’t care who the fiancée was, as long as she was female and could bear children. Even if Lu Zixuan was a spendthrift with poor morals and hidden secrets—it wouldn’t matter.

They wouldn’t break the engagement. The Lu family was too wealthy.

So Lu Zixuan’s actions had to reach universal outrage. Only then would the Xia family agree to annul it. After that? None of Chen Yaoyi’s concern.

All he needed was to assault Liu Yiyi next Saturday night, then name Lu Zixuan as the mastermind. That alone would make Xia Tianle end the engagement.

Yes—no pretending this time.

Not some cliché “wrong room, wrong person” fantasy. This was deliberate. Until Saturday, his identity must stay hidden.

Helping Lu Zixuan in front of Xia Tianle today? He’d be fired before week’s end.

And he’d already recorded everything—from the moment he propped his phone on the rooftop before heading to the infirmary.

This mission couldn’t fail. Lu Zixuan was just a tool. Nothing more.

Lu Zixuan stared blankly as Chen Yaoyi wiped the blood from her palm and pulled out an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

“Bite down.”

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing sun-kissed, toned arms, and offered his forearm to her lips.

Arms honed by relentless training—strength Xia Tianle and other men could never match.

Unbeknownst to anyone—even herself—a flicker of uncertainty stirred in Lu Zixuan. Not from fear. But because… this kind of man was undeniably handsome.

Compared to frail, heavily made-up boys, a man who could protect her had always been more attractive.

“What? Don’t bite, and I’m applying the alcohol straight on.”

Chen Yaoyi knew she feared pain.

“Mm…”

She nodded hesitantly, still reeling from Xia Tianle and Liu Yiyi’s betrayal.

“Mmph…”

She tentatively bit down. Her soft lips sent a faint tickle across his skin. Chen Yaoyi watched her numbly gnaw at his arm, her expression still hollow with despair.

Without a word, he dipped the cotton ball deep into the bottle, saturated it fully, and pressed it hard onto her palm—

“Mmmph!?”

She hadn’t expected *this* much pain.

Pain was the one sensation that screamed *you are alive*—sharp, vivid, undeniable. Some even sought it as proof of living.

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. Only now did she understand why he offered his arm. She’d thought it was just a pervert’s whim—but it was to muffle her cries.

A searing stab shot from the three-centimeter wound straight to her brain. She wanted to thrash, to roll—but Chen Yaoyi pinned her legs with his thigh, meticulously cleaning the wound while she writhed helplessly from the waist up.

Then came wiping the excess alcohol, then bandaging.

He’d already pulled his arm free—leaving silvery strands of saliva and vivid red bite marks behind.

Overwhelmed, the delicate girl slumped limply into his arms.

“You did that… on purpose…”

After a long silence, she struggled to sit up. He released her without resistance.

Propping herself up with her uninjured hand, sweat-soaked clothes clung to her cascading hair. Pale lips accentuated her disheveled state.

“Yes.”