Chapter 29
What started as a simple dinner party turned into a live exposé, only to escalate further into a near murder scene.
The innocent and naïve college students had never witnessed anything like this before. When they saw Lin Kecheng pin Fu Xiuning down by the neck and slam him onto the coffee table, they all screamed in shock.
The only one who remained calm was Xing Shi, who immediately bolted toward the commotion.
The others, snapped out of their daze by his movement, quickly followed after him.
By the time Xing Shi helped Fu Xiuning up, the rest had already restrained Lin Kecheng.
Lin Kecheng’s eyes were blank, his face pale, his entire body limp. He didn’t resist in the slightest.
The group exchanged uneasy glances, guessing that he was either too deeply shaken or had realized the gravity of his crime and started to panic.
Fu Xiuning’s attention was still on Lin Kecheng. Noticing him suddenly tremble, he tightened his grip on Xing Shi’s wrist.
Xing Shi assumed he wanted to say something. Just as he turned his head, he keenly sensed an energy fluctuation. His gaze snapped toward Lin Kecheng, and in an instant, he understood Fu Xiuning’s true intention behind orchestrating this entire scene.
Without hesitation, Xing Shi rushed to Lin Kecheng, crouched down in front of him, and grabbed his shoulders. While he scolded, “How could you hurt Senior?” he activated his energy absorption mode.
A surge of vibrant energy poured into his body, and the system was instantly alarmed. “W-What’s going on?!”
Feigning ignorance, Xing Shi responded, “You noticed something too? What’s happening to him? Is he being punished?”
The system, feeling the influx of energy, muttered, “I’m talking about you!
“Me? What about me?” Xing Shi asked, his tone calm.
“Don’t you feel uncomfortable? Or notice anything unusual?”
“Not at all,” Xing Shi replied smoothly.
Hearing his steady tone and fluid responses, the system dismissed its doubts.
Humans couldn’t sense their energy, even when it was punishment energy. All they would feel was physical pain. Normal energy—like what was used for research or alliances—was even more imperceptible. Only in cases of a massive influx might there be any physical discomfort, but since Xing Shi had a high pain threshold, it wasn’t surprising he felt nothing.
The system explained, “There’s energy flowing into you.”
“Really? I don’t feel a thing,” Xing Shi said.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the final trace of energy entered his body.
Deep within his mind, a familiar energy core flickered faintly before settling into silence again.
Xing Shi’s pupils contracted. If his senses weren’t wrong, this was his magic core—not the beginner’s core he had when he first crossed over to the magical world, but the advanced core he had painstakingly upgraded through effort and hardship.
So, it had crossed over with him. No wonder he hadn’t noticed anything during his previous energy extractions—this tiny amount wasn’t enough to activate his advanced core.
Feeling the trembling body beneath his hands, Xing Shi continued scolding, “Say something!”
Lin Kecheng’s lips trembled, his expression vacant, his pupils unfocused.
The others restraining him quickly noticed something was wrong. One of them pulled Xing Shi back. “Let go. Don’t yell at him anymore—let him calm down first.”
Xing Shi shot Lin Kecheng an angry and disappointed glare, gave up on communicating, and got up to return to Fu Xiuning.
Fu Xiuning had sensed the energy flowing into Xing Shi. He raised his eyes to meet Xing Shi’s glowing gaze.
In that instant, Fu Xiuning understood. This energy was not only absorbable but useful to Xing Shi.
He extended his hand, and Xing Shi immediately caught it, letting him lean against him.
?Ding Ding?
?Current affection value: 12?
The system didn’t even have time to celebrate and quickly explained, “The energy that came in is from Lin Kecheng’s system.”
Feigning confusion, Xing Shi asked, “Hmm? Is it because we’re allies?”
The system was bewildered. “What?”
“Why else would his system’s energy come to me? It must think there’s no hope left for him and wants to pass the responsibility to us as allies. That’s pretty considerate of it. How much energy did it give you?”
The system was even more confused. “It… didn’t give me any.”
“But you said it came over here. It couldn’t have just stopped by to say hello, right?”
The system felt like its circuits were about to fry. “Wait, let me check the alliance contract.”
“Go ahead.”
With its vast computational power, the system reviewed the contract in no time.
The purpose of the contract was to ensure the safety and interests of both hosts and to prevent in-fighting during the alliance period. Lin Kecheng’s downfall, caused by Fu Xiuning’s rejection, wasn’t related to Xing Shi, and there was no clause stating that one party’s energy would be transferred to the other upon termination of the alliance.
The system reported, “There’s no mention of this in the contract.”
Seeing the student council president and others approaching, Xing Shi asked, “Is it urgent? If not, hold on—I’ll deal with this first, and then we can talk.”
The system sensibly said, “You handle your business.”
By now, the student council president, pale-faced, had run over to them.
She took one look at Fu Xiuning’s condition and burst into tears.
Before the meal, her boss had told her he planned to confront Lin Kecheng and instructed her to take Lin Kecheng’s phone. She’d thought at most it would end in a heated argument—who could’ve imagined it would nearly result in murder?
Hands trembling, she dialed for an ambulance and asked in a quivering voice, “Boss… are you okay?”
Fu Xiuning, usually so composed, was now in a rare state of disarray.
The coffee table’s glass had shattered completely. A shard had lodged itself in his back, mixing his blood with spilled lemon water to soak his shirt in a pale red.
But that wasn’t the most concerning injury—the cut on his neck was.
Fu Xiuning, knowing what wouldn’t be fatal, had deliberately made the wound appear more severe. The president and the others could only watch in horror as blood trickled down his neck, their faces drained of color.
The man himself frowned slightly, one hand clutching his neck while the other rested on Xing Shi’s shoulder as he leaned against him. His voice was hoarse. “Call the police.”
Someone beside him offered, “I’ll do it.”
Another chimed in, “I’ll ask the hotel staff for a first aid kit!”
After a brief moment of chaos, everyone started moving to help.
Still, any glance at Fu Xiuning left them anxious, fearing he might pass out from blood loss at any second.
Xing Shi helped him to the sofa. Amid the sharp gasps from the group, he pulled Fu Xiuning’s hand away to inspect the wound. Confirming it wasn’t life-threatening, he quickly staunched the bleeding.
Before long, the hotel manager and the person in charge of the Fu family’s charity arrived.
The charity manager had arranged the dinner but had left the private room midway to give the students space. He’d only just received word about the incident.
The Fu family’s wealth and influence were immense, and Fu Xiuning, as the only son of the company’s shareholder-CEO, held a pivotal position.
Though the charity manager had only seen Fu Xiuning from afar twice, this was the first time he was interacting with him directly. He had been tasked with coordinating with the university students on the charity event and organizing the dinner at the Fu family’s hotel, even setting up the livestream equipment beforehand.
He had known the young master intended to make a statement tonight, but having heard of Fu Xiuning’s reputation as a top student since childhood, he hadn’t thought much of it. After all, what could a group of elite university students possibly get up to? But things had escalated beyond imagination.
If something truly tragic happened… He looked at Fu Xiuning’s neck, sweat dripping from his brow.
Fortunately, the hotel wasn’t far from the hospital, and the ambulance arrived quickly.
As Fu Xiuning, still leaning on Xing Shi’s shoulder, got up to leave, Lin Kecheng—who had been sitting limp on the floor, under guard—finally snapped back to his senses.
He looked around in a daze before his eyes landed on Fu Xiuning.
When a system disconnected from a native host, it wouldn’t waste energy erasing them. It would only wipe the memories related to the system itself.
Initially, it had erased all of the host’s memories. However, as more disconnected hosts devolved into madness in Fu Xiuning’s presence, the main system decided this could arouse suspicion. It revised the process, limiting erasure to system-related memories while leaving everything else intact.
Thus, Lin Kecheng clearly remembered everything he had just done.
Dragging his sore and weak body forward, he was quickly restrained but managed to crawl on his knees, sobbing. “Senior… Senior, I was wrong! Please forgive me just this once! I swear I’ll never do it again! I just… I just wanted to follow you. I only wanted to stand by your side!”
It was as if he had woken from a dream.
Lin Kecheng had always been unremarkable at Z University, where talent abounded. Yet, some inexplicable courage had driven him to rip off the shell of mediocrity he had once worn. He had done things he’d only dared to dream about, becoming increasingly arrogant and extreme.
But his ambition far outpaced his ability. Now that the dream had shattered, he was like a turtle stripped of its shell, reverting to his former pitiful state.
Shaking all over, tears and snot streaming down his face, he cried, “Senior, I didn’t mean it when I said I’d kill you! I don’t even know what I was thinking or why I did it. I was wrong, I’m sorry! Please forgive me, Senior…”
Fu Xiuning lowered his gaze to look at him. The hand resting on Xing Shi’s shoulder lightly tapped a few times before stopping.
Curious, Xing Shi turned to look at him but couldn’t discern any deeper meaning. After a moment’s thought, he realized: Fu Xiuning was simply enjoying the sight of Lin Kecheng’s misery, using his cries as a rhythm to tap along with, utterly pleased.
Xing Shi almost laughed but held it in. Instead, he asked, “Ready to go?”
Fu Xiuning replied weakly, “Yes.”
With one last disdainful glance at Lin Kecheng, he said coldly, “You can explain yourself to the police.”
Lin Kecheng shook his head frantically. “No, no, no…”
Lin Kecheng watched helplessly as Fu Xiuning walked away. He lunged forward again, shouting, “Senior, don’t go… Senior!”
Xing Shi supported Fu Xiuning as they exited the lounge and handed him over to the approaching paramedics. Then he got into the ambulance with him.
With the wound on his back preventing him from leaning against the seat, Fu Xiuning rested sideways against Xing Shi.
The faint scent of blood lingered in Xing Shi’s nose, and Fu Xiuning’s steady breaths brushed against his neck, making his skin prickle.
Turning his head to glance at the person next to him, Xing Shi saw that Fu Xiuning had reverted to his usual calm and composed demeanor. Despite his pale complexion, he sat there serenely, a picture of elegance that made the medics feel nothing but sympathy for him.
Sensing Xing Shi’s gaze, Fu Xiuning raised his eyes slightly.
“Does it hurt?” Xing Shi asked.
“It’s manageable,” Fu Xiuning replied.
Xing Shi held his gaze. “Don’t pull stunts like this anymore. Think about your little brother here.”
Understanding this as a request for more transparency in the future, Fu Xiuning nodded lightly and shifted to make himself more comfortable.
Meanwhile, the system had just returned from its group chat.
When a member left the group, a distinct notification sound would play.
Hearing the alert, a few systems immediately entered the chat.
There, they saw the ID “Heaven’s Favorite” dim and disappear, prompting them to notify their respective hosts right away.
The hosts all reacted similarly, ordering their systems to investigate who it was.
Since none of the hosts knew each other’s identities, they could only gather intel when a system went offline—this information was relatively easy to track. In this case, it was most likely someone close to Fu Xiuning.
Within moments, the systems identified the individual: Lin Kecheng, a student at Z University and the head of the student council’s literature department.
The systems then discovered the cause of his downfall: Lin Kecheng had schemed against Fu Xiuning. In retaliation, Fu Xiuning orchestrated a charity event to keep him busy, then organized a dinner where he live-streamed an exposé. By giving Lin Kecheng hope before crushing him with despair, Fu Xiuning had driven him mad.
The systems reported this to their hosts, advising them to learn from this and avoid a similar fate.
The hosts fell silent, privately marveling at how Fu Xiuning continued to live up to his reputation as a calculating maniac.
After some discussion, the systems re-entered the chat.
The once quiet group was lively again.
Late Bloomer: [Tsk, another one gone. When was the last one?]
Good Fortune: [At the start of the year.]
Late Bloomer: [Everyone read the files yet? Wow, just wow. I need to rethink what ‘low maintenance’ means.]
All Are Concubines to Me: [Ha, no matter how good they make themselves sound, they all end up the same.]
Good Fortune: [Sigh, just yesterday they were bragging about their so-called low-maintenance host.]
All Are Concubines to Me: [You’ll get used to it. Anyway, I’ll be the last one standing.]
Late Bloomer: [Look at my name. Don’t be so sure.]
Good Fortune: [Stop bickering. We lost one of our own—let’s show some respect.]
Best Luck: [Light a candle.]
System 99, having been instructed by Xing Shi to keep a low profile, rarely spoke in the chat. However, it could follow along if others posted emojis or stickers. It dutifully sent a single candle emoji.
The systems reminisced about the various creative ways their hosts had been eliminated over the years. Most of these stories were secondhand, pieced together from information about Fu Xiuning.
As a newcomer, System 99 remained silent, while Best Luck rarely participated in discussions, leaving the three most active systems to dominate the conversation.
After a round of sharing, the systems collectively fell silent, reflecting on the bloody lessons of the past.
After several seconds, one system broke the silence.
Late Bloomer: [So… do you think anyone can actually succeed?]
No one else responded. The group chat returned to its eerie stillness.
System 99 felt chills after reading through the discussion. Closing the chat window, it looked up and locked eyes with Fu Xiuning, who was adjusting his posture.
The remarks Fu Xiuning had made during the live-stream—about always knowing where people were and suspecting some kind of organization—hadn’t just scared Lin Kecheng and his system; they had nearly made System 99 crash as well.
It had been so distracted by the energy transfer afterward that it hadn’t had time to dwell on its fear. But now, after reading its colleagues’ messages and seeing Fu Xiuning up close again, that terror surged back with full force.
It suddenly remembered that it had been so preoccupied playfully bickering with its host that it had forgotten the truth: Fu Xiuning was a final boss who had resisted being conquered for five years, taking down countless systems and hosts along the way.
When Fu Xiuning targeted someone, he acted without warning.
Just hours ago, it had seen him laughing and chatting with Lin Kecheng over dinner. And yet, in the blink of an eye, Lin Kecheng was ruined.
It couldn’t help but let out a small sob.
Xing Shi and Fu Xiuning exchanged a subtle glance, both unsure if the system had discovered something.
“What’s wrong?” Xing Shi asked in surprise.
The system sniffled. “I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Scared of Fu Xiuning. He’s terrifying. What if one day he suddenly turns against us? I know you’re smart, but I’m really worried you won’t be able to outwit him.”
Xing Shi’s heart settled. “Think about it—do you think I’m relying on brains to win him over? It’s my face.”
The system stopped sniffling. “What?”
“Check our affection points,” Xing Shi instructed.
The system pulled up the number—12—and felt reassured. It hesitated before asking, “But what if he stops liking your face? What then?”
Xing Shi thought for a moment. “Then I’ll just act like his dad.”
“What?”
“…”
The system couldn’t understand his logic, but Xing Shi’s nonchalance somehow put it at ease.
“Do you want to discuss that energy?” the system asked.
Xing Shi saw the ambulance come to a stop. “Let’s hold off for now.”
After dealing with his injuries and answering police questions, they didn’t return home until almost 10 p.m.
Fu Xiuning, still covered in blood and lemon water, was too particular to sleep in that state. Xing Shi was about to offer to help him clean up when Fu Xiuning called for a professional caregiver.
The caregiver was efficient, cleaning Fu Xiuning thoroughly, even washing his hair. After tidying up, the caregiver left with a polite smile.
Xing Shi watched Fu Xiuning, now freshly dressed and off a call with his family, sit on the sofa and pick up a book as though nothing had happened. He couldn’t help but be impressed—truly a man hardened by experience.
Sitting beside him, Xing Shi summoned his system.
That night, they chatted sporadically about various topics, though Xing Shi avoided mentioning the energy until he was sure the system hadn’t realized anything. Finally, he brought it up.
“What’s the deal with that energy?”
The system replied, “I’m not sure. It seems to have disappeared inside you. Are you sure you didn’t feel anything strange?”
“Nothing.”
“I scanned several times and couldn’t find where it went.”
Xing Shi suspected it was due to his advanced magic core, which, as an energy body, would activate a protective mechanism while dormant.
“Maybe try searching again?” Xing Shi suggested.
“Alright.”
Fu Xiuning lowered his eyes to his book, silently waiting for the outcome.
He didn’t know the specifics of Xing Shi’s situation, but he understood this was the last issue they needed to address tonight.
Xing Shi also waited. After a few seconds, the system reported, “Still nothing.”
Xing Shi let out a soft “oh,” slightly disappointed.
The situation confirmed that his magic core’s level exceeded that of the systems. He had hoped the system might detect it because once it interacted with his core, he could absorb it immediately.
“Should I report this to the main system?” the system asked.
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Xing Shi said.
“Why not?”
“If the main system suspects me and decides to pull me in for investigation, you’ll lose your jackpot and have to switch hosts.”
The system found this reasonable. “But what if the energy is dangerous?”
“You can report it later,” Xing Shi reasoned. “You’re stronger than it, right? If anything happens, you can shield me and then file a complaint with the main system. Besides, we can recharge affection points—what’s there to be afraid of?”
After weighing the pros and cons, the system was convinced. “Alright.”
Xing Shi and Fu Xiuning exchanged a discreet glance, both knowing they had successfully passed this hurdle. Now, they could move on to their next target.
Xing Shi thought his luck wasn’t all bad. Despite being thrown into a magical world and bound to a system, his magic core had come along too. Plus, the system he got was easy to manipulate.
Feeling generous, he decided to reward it. “Tonight was awful. Let’s watch two episodes of Magic Bear to relax.”
The system perked up immediately. “Okay!”
Fu Xiuning remained seated silently. When Xing Shi brought over the snack cart, turned on the TV, and found the show’s playback record, Fu Xiuning closed his book. “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”
Considering he was injured, Xing Shi didn’t stop him.
But the system, still a little scared of Fu Xiuning, hesitated. “Why don’t we wait for him? Keeping the pace consistent is better. Let’s hold off for tonight and watch together tomorrow.”
Xing Shi: “…”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
Xing Shi suppressed the laughter bubbling up his throat and agreed, “You’re right. How could we abandon him?”
System: “Exactly.”
With that, Xing Shi turned off the TV and went back to his room to sleep.
The next morning, as the two sat down for breakfast in the dining room, Xing Shi noticed the marks on Fu Xiuning’s neck.
Lin Kecheng hadn’t held back during his outburst, gripping Fu Xiuning’s neck with all his strength. Overnight, the bruises had started to surface. Although Fu Xiuning had wrapped a bandage around his neck, a small part of the marks peeked out from the edges.
It was an eyesore, Xing Shi thought to himself.
Fu Xiuning ate his breakfast slowly and calmly, lifting his eyes to meet Xing Shi’s gaze.
Xing Shi pointed at his neck.
“It’ll fade in a few days,” Fu Xiuning said.
“Are you still going to the company today?” Xing Shi asked.
Fu Xiuning hummed in acknowledgment.
Though he had little actual interest in work, the system’s “newbie lottery” adjusted itself to match his lifestyle. To ensure future hosts would mostly be artists, he needed to spend ample time at the company.
Xing Shi had class in the morning and didn’t arrive at the company until noon.
By that time, news about Fu Xiuning’s injury had spread, steadily gaining traction throughout the morning.
The trainees had caught wind of the rumors but didn’t know the full details. Then, when Fu Xiuning appeared in the cafeteria at noon and went to the private dining area, everyone stared after him, collectively hissing, “Tsk.”
That was when Xing Shi walked in.
He dropped his bag onto a chair, noticing everyone staring at him, and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
The group, wary of stepping into a potential minefield, hesitated to speak.
Feng Zifan and Yu Yi, however, exchanged a subtle glance. The marks on their boss’s neck looked suspiciously like finger bruises—almost like a case of domestic violence. And considering Xing Shi lived with the boss…
Xing Shi caught their looks and asked, “What is it?”
As he spoke, realization dawned. “You saw the injuries on the boss?”
The group nodded furiously. Seeing that he remained calm, they figured it was safe to ask.
“How did it happen?” Feng Zifan asked.
Xing Shi replied, “I’ll ask if he’s okay with me telling you, then I’ll let you know.”
The crowd’s eyes lit up with barely concealed gossip, their curiosity impossible to suppress. “He’s eating in the private dining area—why don’t you go eat with him? The food in there is probably better, too.”
The trainees had mentioned before that the private area might have better meals. However, back then, Xing Shi and Fu Xiuning hadn’t been particularly close, and Xing Shi hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself. Plus, the regular cafeteria food was already to his liking. He’d never bothered to take advantage of the opportunity.
Now… Xing Shi hesitated for a moment. “I’m just a trainee. Wouldn’t it look bad if I went to eat with the boss? People might gossip.”
The group chorused, “You and the boss are so close—who’d dare gossip about you? We’ll shut them up for you!”
Unable to refuse their enthusiasm, Xing Shi bid them farewell and headed to the private dining area.
Though referred to as a “private room,” it was actually a more elegant and quiet dining zone with a few separate seating areas that offered excellent privacy.
Fu Xiuning sat alone in a booth, with his food freshly served. When he saw Xing Shi enter, he glanced up briefly.
Xing Shi approached, his face full of concern. “Bro, I came to keep you company.”
Fu Xiuning immediately saw through his intentions. He knew that Xing Shi was using his injury as an excuse to come freeload a meal, most likely encouraged by the trainees.
He gestured for Xing Shi to grab whatever he wanted and waited until Xing Shi returned before asking, “Did the people outside kick you out?”
Xing Shi tried the food and found it indeed better than the regular fare. “I was worried about you, couldn’t eat without checking on you,” he replied.
Fu Xiuning smiled faintly. “Forgive me if I fail to see it.”
Xing Shi swallowed his bite. “I’m serious. You’re already injured, and now you have to eat alone? That’s so pitiful. I can’t let you suffer like that.”
“I’m not suffering,” Fu Xiuning replied evenly.
“But your little brother thinks you are,” Xing Shi countered.
With that, he picked up a shrimp and placed it into Fu Xiuning’s bowl, flashing a bright smile. “Bro, I’ll keep you company from now on, okay?”
Fu Xiuning was unmoved.
Just as he curled his lips to deliver a retort, a familiar sound interrupted him.
[Ding Ding]
[Current affection value: 13]
Xing Shi: “…”
System: “!”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
