The rooftop lights shimmered against the skyline as the elite circle began to break into smaller groups—some heading for the billiards table, others drifting toward the glass balcony to sip wine and exchange shallow flattery.
Lin Feng stood near the corner of the lounge, a glass of soda in hand, looking absurdly out of place amidst gold-label whiskey and overpriced cigars. But that, of course, was the point.
"You really didn't touch the Macallan?" a voice asked with mock disbelief.
Zhao Rouran appeared beside him again, arms crossed, eyebrows arched. Her crimson evening dress caught the light, but her expression was more curious than glamorous.
"Not my style," Lin Feng said, eyes still scanning the room.
"Hmm," she murmured. "Neither is being here, I guess. Yet here you are."
[System: Ding! Host has successfully attracted the attention of a capital-grade tsundere. Proceed with caution—or popcorn.]
Rouran leaned against the railing beside him. "People are watching you, you know. Not just the small fry from campus forums. Some of these guys… their families own entire industries."
"And?" Lin Feng replied, sipping lazily. "I came for the free food."
That earned a soft laugh from her, but the moment didn't stay light for long. Just across the lounge, Luo Zixuan was watching them. Again.
His suit was crisp, his smirk even sharper tonight—but the edge in his eyes gave him away. The public humiliation from earlier still hadn't left him.
"Looks like your fan club president is getting jealous," Rouran commented, nodding toward Luo.
"I should get him a badge," Lin Feng said dryly.
Their banter faded as someone approached. It was an older man, silver at the temples, but his posture still upright like a military officer. He held out a hand.
"You're Lin Feng, right? I'm Mr. Qiu. My son's been trying to reach you through the Heavenly Group chat."
Lin Feng shook the hand. "He did mention something about a studio lease."
Mr. Qiu smiled. "Actually, I wanted to meet you myself. You're… interesting. People say you come from nowhere and yet move like someone who owns the map."
[System: Compliment detected. Host now has 'Elite Suspicion Level +2' and 'Mysterious Aura +5'. Please don't ruin it by ordering instant noodles.]
The conversation drifted, but Lin Feng remained sharp. Every polite smile, every glass raised in his direction—it all had weight now. These people didn't laugh unless they wanted something. And judging by their eagerness, they wanted a lot.
As the night wore on, he excused himself and stepped out onto the quieter balcony edge. A notification pinged on his phone—Guo Yuwei.
[Yuwei]: Everything okay? You disappeared after class.
[Yuwei]: By the way… thanks. I know it was you who fixed the sponsorship mess.
Lin Feng tapped back a reply.
[Lin Feng]: Just helping a friend. Call it repayment for letting me copy your notes that one time.
Another ping. Jiang Yue'er this time.
[Yue'er]: That lounge looked expensive. Don't let the gold-plated idiots talk you into anything.
[Lin Feng]: Too late. I already sold them a dream.
He chuckled quietly, slipping his phone back in his pocket. For now, the elite world didn't know what to make of him. He wasn't trying to conquer it. Just passing through, leaving cracks in their perfect facades.
Behind him, the doors opened again. Luo Zixuan stepped out, alone. His footsteps echoed across the stone floor, stopping a few feet away.
"You know," he said, voice low, "you don't belong here."
Lin Feng didn't turn. "That's what makes it fun."
The air crackled between them.
"You think you can keep playing both sides? Helping poor girls while charming rich ones? That won't last," Luo said, venom laced behind his polished tone.
Lin Feng finally turned, calm as ever. "It'll last as long as I want it to. And when it stops? I'll still sleep just fine."
Luo's expression darkened, but he didn't push further. Not tonight.
He turned and walked away, but not before muttering under his breath, "This isn't over."
[System: Ding! Rivalry escalation confirmed. Prepare for passive-aggressive sabotage, expensive insults, and the occasional anonymous forum post.]
Lin Feng leaned back against the railing again, wind tugging at his hoodie.
He was playing a dangerous game now—balancing the elite circle's curiosity, the campus's gossip, and the quiet gratitude of those he helped. But as long as he stayed true to his own rules… he didn't mind the risks.