"Miss Su, worried Lu Chengzhou might go hungry? How *thoughtful* of you," Meng Wanyu said, shifting her gaze to Su Qiaoman.

A slight shiver ran through Su Qiaoman under that stare.

"Sister Meng, Ah Zhou and I grew up together. Isn’t caring for him only natural?" Su Qiaoman forced the words out, cheeks tight.

"Oh? Then by all means," Meng Wanyu replied, smile not reaching her eyes.

She’d watched yesterday’s entire scene. Saw right through Su Qiaoman’s act. One glance at the tray—clearly a single portion. This wasn’t about delivering food. Pure victim-play. *Tea art*, plain and simple.

Meng Wanyu’s eyes turned subtly sharper.

"Sit, Miss Su." She didn’t shoo her away.

"Thank you, Sister," Su Qiaoman murmured—but a trace of triumphant pride flickered in her eyes.

Lu Chengzhou glanced at the tray. One portion. No way he’d eat it. Even if it were two, he’d still refuse. Eat the female lead’s meal *in front of the male lead*? Which supporting character’s that reckless?

"Ah Zhou, don’t be shy! Skip lunch, and how’ll you focus this afternoon?" Su Qiaoman pressed with false warmth.

"No need—you eat. Really!" Lu Chengzhou kept his tone firm, putting distance between them.

"Ah Zhou, you—"

Just then, the long-awaited bento arrived.

Lu Chengzhou’s eyes widened inwardly. *Whoa.* That box screamed luxury—definitely five-star hotel takeout. Meng Wanyu even opened it herself, handing him chopsticks and a drink.

Su Qiaoman and Lin Chen stood frozen. *Miss Meng… personally serving this utterly ordinary guy?!* Were *they* hallucinating? Or had *she* lost her mind?

Meng Wanyu seized the moment: "Miss Su, so kind of you. But I’ve already prepared lunch for Lu Chengzhou. Enjoy your own."

Su Qiaoman’s face darkened. Her fish-flavored shredded pork, tomato scrambled eggs, seaweed egg-drop soup—*pathetic* next to *that*. Damn it.

"Lu Chengzhou," Lin Chen drawled, voice dripping sarcasm. "You’ve got moves." Honestly? He felt sour as vinegar.

"School rules forbid dating—and overly close contact between leads. You *know* that, right?"

Lu Chengzhou frowned. *Yeah, I know.* But he wasn’t *trying* to date! He was just… stuck here. Broke after buying that bouquet. Free lobster? Free abalone? Who says no? And wow—Miss Meng’s bento *was* elite. One bite, unforgettable.

As Lu Chengzhou ate quietly, Meng Wanyu shot Lin Chen a cold look. "Lin Chen. Nothing better to do? Go jog. Don’t clutter the view."

"Meng Wanyu!" Male lead dignity shattered—*again*. Lin Chen gritted his teeth. "Don’t think just because you’re… you’re…" *Jingzhou’s little princess*—he choked the words back.

Meng Wanyu covered a laugh, phoenix eyes crinkling slightly. "Yes. I’m bullying you. Problem?" She’d bullied dozens. One more? Barely a footnote.

Su Qiaoman shot up. "Sister Meng—the Lin family’s a major power in Yi City!" she whispered urgently. "Their reach spans light and shadow. Cross Lin Chen, and you won’t last here."

Meng Wanyu’s smile deepened. "Oh? Then let him *bring it on*. I’d love to see it."

Lin Chen heard none of it. *If he had*, he’d call Su Qiaoman foolish. Could the Lin family rival the Mengs of Jingzhou? He was barely holding face—*zero* intent to challenge them.

Meng Wanyu watched him stand stiffly. Didn’t offer a seat. And terrifyingly—he *didn’t dare* sit without permission.

Lu Chengzhou finished the crab fried rice, moved to lobster. Glanced up. *Wow.* Still standing tall. Stubborn pride = self-inflicted pain. Watching others eat while holding your bowl? Lifetime humiliation material.

*Wait.*

Lu Chengzhou froze. *I’m the supporting character!* How could he lounge between two girls, munching lobster, sipping iced tea, *enjoying* the male lead’s misery? Too much aggro. What if Lin Chen ambushed him later?

He started to rise—

Meng Wanyu’s hand clamped his wrist. Queen-like aura sent his pulse racing. Worse: under the table, her foot *teased* his ankle. Light. Deliberate.

As a healthy guy? *Unbearable.* Heart hammered. Breath hitched.

"I haven’t eaten. Where are you going?"

"I… bathroom," Lu Chengzhou stammered—the universal escape.

"Not allowed."

He shot Lin Chen an apologetic look. *Bro. Don’t blame me. Truly. Forced.*

Lin Chen’s jaw twitched. Words died unspoken.

Meng Wanyu slid her bento toward him, chin propped, smiling sweetly. "Peel my shrimp."

"…"

No choice. Not for her status—but he’d *eaten her food*. Mouth that eats grows soft; hand that takes grows short. He pulled on gloves and began.

Seeing his obedience, Meng Wanyu’s mood lifted. Then she glanced at Lin Chen—expression souring. *Ugh.* This overconfident, uncultured rich boy. Why keep staring at *her* Lu Chengzhou? Pure nuisance.

"Lin Chen," she said lightly. "Still here?"