Shadow Heir II: Dark Glory - Chapter 15

A small crowd had already gathered, murmuring in hushed voices as they waited to witness the live execution of a scumbag.

Especially since the girl standing there looked so… pure.

That untainted aura—it wasn’t an act. It radiated from her very bones, the kind of innocence that couldn’t be faked.

Girls like her could melt any man’s heart.

Regardless of age.

More than a few of the onlookers were already glaring at Su Wuji with undisguised contempt—and a flicker of envy.

Su Wuji stumbled back step by step. “Miss, I swear, I’m not the type to pull up my pants and pretend nothing happened—I mean, I never even took off my pants with you in the first place!”

“Wuji-ge, it’s me—Song Zhiyu!”

“Song Zhiyu? That name… sounds familiar…”

The girl pulled out a thick stack of letters from her backpack. “Wuji-ge, look. These are all the replies you sent me.”

Su Wuji stared at her for several seconds before finally saying, a bit uncertainly, “You’re that little girl from Liangshan? You’ve grown up this much already?”

Zhiyu beamed. “Wuji-ge, I got into Linjiang University. Today was the first day of military training…”

The surrounding girls, who had come to watch the drama, were all dressed to the nines—flirty, curvy, seductive. But next to Song Zhiyu’s unadorned, fresh-faced innocence, they suddenly looked gaudy and artificial.

Even Mu Qianyu was stunned. “So this… isn’t a love debt?”

Despite all her wild imaginings just moments ago, donating to help poor students had never crossed her mind.

Su Wuji scratched his head and let out a sheepish laugh. “Ahahaha, I’ve been so swamped lately, didn’t even realize you got into Linjiang. Congrats!”

Xiao Pang chimed in helpfully, “Boss, before school started, you had Finance donate to Linjiang anonymously—covered the living expenses for all the underprivileged freshmen. You even told the school to keep an eye on Song Zhiyu—”

“Why is your memory so damned good?!” Su Wuji stomped his foot in frustration. “Did I ask you to speak?”

Song Zhiyu couldn’t help but giggle, but in the next instant, her eyes turned red.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

—

In the penthouse suite of the Empress Bar.

Thick soundproofing muffled the chaos below. Up here, far from the drunken revelry and neon sleaze, it felt like a different world.

Mu Qianyu and Song Zhiyu sat side by side on the sofa.

The difference was obvious—Zhiyu sat stiff and straight, knees together, hands folded primly on her lap, back never touching the cushion.

Side by side, the two looked like twin blossoms: one rich and fragrant like cassia and orchid, the other cool and delicate like jasmine in early spring. Both are breathtaking in their own way.

Xiao Yinglei and Xiao Pang stood quietly to the side.

Seeing how tense Zhiyu was, Mu Qianyu gently handed her a glass of water. “Here, Zhiyu. Drink a little. No need to be nervous.”

She spoke as if this wasn’t her first time in this room.

“Thank you, jiejie.” Zhiyu accepted the glass with both hands, took a careful sip, and placed it back on the table.

Then, as if remembering something, she opened her heavy canvas backpack. “Wuji-ge, I brought these from back home.”

A full pack—at least thirty to forty jin—bursting with pomegranates and apples from Liangshan.

Su Wuji picked it up and gave it a test heft, his brow furrowing. “That heavy? You carried this from Liangshan by yourself?”

He’d been to Zhiyu’s home before. He knew how remote it was. To get to Linzhou, she’d have had to cross mountains on foot, ride a scooter taxi, catch a bus, transfer to a slow train—at least a three- or four-day journey.

“It’s not that heavy,” Zhiyu said with a smile.

That smile was like a shy mimosa, blooming quietly, dew still clinging to its leaves.

Su Wuji frowned. “Don’t do dumb things like that again. You think Linzhou’s short on fruit? What kind of fruit can’t you buy here?”

“…Okay.” The cheer on her delicate face tightened slightly. Her knees pressed even closer together.

Xiao Yinglei smiled knowingly. She was used to her boss’s ways.

Mu Qianyu, on the other hand, gave Su Wuji a soft glare and reached over to pat Zhiyu’s hand. “Your Wuji-ge’s just worried about you. He doesn’t know how to say things nicely—don’t take it to heart.”

Su Wuji shook his head. “I’m just saying it’s foolish. There’s no need.”

Zhiyu lowered her gaze and murmured, “Mm.”

Su Wuji grabbed an apple, didn’t even wash it, and took a big bite. “Not bad. Sweet, crunchy, plenty of juice.”

He tossed another to Mu Qianyu and called out, “Everyone, try some.”

Mu Qianyu didn’t bother washing hers either. She just wiped it on her skirt and took a decisive bite. “Tastes great.”

Seeing that, Zhiyu visibly relaxed. A smile broke across her face—one of quiet satisfaction.

Xiao Yinglei walked over, bent down, and hefted the entire bag of fruit. “Boss, I’ll make a fruit platter.”

As she bent over, the curve of her hips and thighs beneath the cheongsam, accentuated by the high slit, sparked a surge of instinctive curiosity.

Mu Qianyu tore her gaze away from that shapely waist and turned to Su Wuji. “With a beauty like Manager Xiao by your side every day, I’m surprised you haven’t gone feral.”

Her tone carried an edge—half teasing, half probing.

After all, in most people’s eyes, what more needed to be said about a lascivious boss and a sultry female subordinate?

Su Wuji waved her off. “Please. Yinglei’s old news. You, Qianyu—you’re much more my type.”

Xiao Yinglei nearly walked into the doorframe.

“No outsiders here. Drop the act. Your performance’s a bit much.”

Mu Qianyu was far from naive. She smiled faintly, then turned to Zhiyu. “Zhiyu, tell me how you and Wuji-ge met. I’m curious.”

Perhaps she didn’t realize it herself, but every question she asked now subtly traced the outlines of Su Wuji’s past.

The light in Song Zhiyu’s eyes brightened. “Four years ago, I was still in junior high. Wuji-ge came to our town as a volunteer teacher… If not for him, I probably would’ve dropped out to work.”

“You did volunteer teaching in Liangshan?” Mu Qianyu looked at Su Wuji with new interest. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

Zhiyu nodded. Wuji-ge stayed for a whole semester. He taught English, and sometimes PE too. He was popular at our school.”

“You taught for a full semester? And taught English?” Mu Qianyu’s eyes widened.

Nowadays, most people go on volunteer stints just for show—stay a few days, snap some photos, then leave. Sticking it out through a semester in that kind of backwater? Rare.

If the people of Linzhou found out that the notorious nightclub brawler Su Wuji had once been a beloved rural schoolteacher, their jaws would collectively hit the floor.

Su Wuji grinned, chewing his apple. “Got in trouble abroad back then. My dad exiled me to Liangshan to cool off. Don’t make me sound so noble.”

Mu Qianyu’s smile deepened, her voice drawn out in disbelief. “Ohhh, is that so~”

She didn’t believe a single word.