Shadow Heir II: Dark Glory - Chapter 17

Su Wujì’s words fell, and a flicker of gloom clouded Song Zhiyu’s gaze.

It felt like ever since Wujì-ge saw her again, he’d been keeping his distance on purpose.

Even the way he expressed concern was laced with frowns and irritation, as though every word was a chore.

Is this how it always is?
When a sponsor meets the one they once supported, distant, guarded, cold?

She couldn’t quite explain it, but something in her gut told her this man… wasn’t the same as the boy from four years ago.

Of course, what she hadn’t realized was—neither was she.

The gawky junior high student had transformed. The changes time had wrought were staggering.

The baton of “campus belle of Linjiang University” had passed from Park Yanxi and Mu Qianyu… straight into her hands.

Su Wujì sensed her sudden silence, and his brows furrowed again.

“That bar’s too chaotic. Fights break out all the time—a dangerous place. Not for someone like you.”

“Oh. Okay.” The gloom in Song Zhiyu’s eyes dispersed in an instant.

She suddenly understood what Mu Qianyu-jiejie had meant—this Wujì-ge cared. He just didn’t know how to speak nicely.

When they got out of the car, Su Wujì popped open the trunk and pulled out a brand-new backpack. He shoved it at her with a stern face.

“There’s a phone and a laptop in here. I already saved my number in the new phone. If you run into anything you can’t handle, call me… Just don’t call too much. I’m busy.”

Song Zhiyu’s eyes shimmered, misted over with emotion. “Wujì-ge, I can’t accept this… You’ve already done so much. I can use my scholarship to buy my own—”

“I said take it, so take it. Don’t start nagging.”
He stuffed the bag into her arms, none too gently.

It was obvious the gifts had been bought in advance. He just liked hiding his tenderness behind that surly scowl.

“…Okay. Thank you, Wujì-ge.” Song Zhiyu didn’t refuse again.

Her eyes were already rimmed red, tears trembling on the verge of spilling.

Seeing this, Su Wujì’s scowl eased into the faintest smile. “Still the same crybaby from back then.”

She laughed softly, but didn’t tell him—when he left Liangshan all those years ago, she’d cried for days.

Vroooom!

A roaring Mercedes-Benz G63 tore around the corner and screeched to a halt right in front of them.

That G-Class, powered by a beastly V8, had been stuck behind several red lights and still couldn’t catch up to their beat-up Passat.

Hot on its heels, a Porsche Cayenne with Linzhou plates pulled up beside it.

The drivers had rounded the corner just in time to see Su Wujì shoving the backpack into Song Zhiyu’s arms.

“Back off! Stay the hell away from Zhiyu!”

A young man in a blue LV summer outfit leapt from the driver’s seat and stormed up to them, planting himself between them before shoving Su Wujì hard in the chest.

Three men and a woman poured out of the car and quickly surrounded Su Wujì.

To everyone’s surprise, he didn’t get angry. He casually brushed the dust off his chest and gave the boy a once-over.

A smile tugged at his lips. “You followed us from downtown in a capital-plated G-Class… just for a little damsel-saving moment like this, huh?”

The young man glared, eyes full of arrogance and contempt.
“You think you can trick Zhiyu just ‘cause she’s new to the city? Driving that busted Passat and taking her to Queen’s Bar—do you even know the minimum spend there per night?”

That got Su Wujì laughing.

The owner of Queen’s Bar himself, accused of not affording its cover charge?
He’d lost count of how many times someone had shouted, “Tonight’s on Young Master Su!” across that very bar.

“I go to Queen’s Bar—what’s the problem?”

The boy scoffed. “If you’re broke, stop pretending to be rich! Don’t ever go near Zhiyu again, got it? Or I’ll make sure you end up worse than a street rat!”

Another shove. Harder this time.

Then he turned to Song Zhiyu, voice dripping with disdain.
“And you, Zhiyu. You just came out of the mountains. Don’t let this flashy city life blind you. Don’t be so shortsighted.”

But Song Zhiyu stepped around him.

She walked straight to Su Wujì’s side, eyes full of concern. “Wujì-ge, are you okay?”

The LV boy’s face darkened instantly. “Song Zhiyu, are you ungrateful or just stupid?”

Su Wujì glanced at the group. “These idiots… are your classmates?”

“Two of them are in my class,” she replied.

She turned to the LV boy. “Jiang Haobing, you shouldn’t have done that. You owe him an apology—”

But before she could finish, a tall, burly guy in a black T-shirt cut her off.
“Song Zhiyu, Jiang-shao stood up for you out of kindness. How can you not appreciate it? Typical mountain hick. No manners.”

Song Zhiyu opened her mouth to respond, but Su Wujì had already pulled her behind him.

“This has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it.”

That same annoyed tone again. Like he didn’t want to get along.

“…Okay.” She stepped back quietly. Obedient as ever.

Jiang Haobing stuffed both hands in his pockets, face tight with disdain.
“I’m from the capital. My family arranged my admission to Linjiang University. Do you understand what that means?”

He thought that statement carried tremendous weight.

From the capital. Direct admission to a top Double First-Class university like Linjiang—a sign of a serious background.

Su Wujì slipped his own hands into his pockets and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Oh, so you couldn’t get into Linjiang on your own. Got in through the back door, huh?”

The others bristled instantly.

“How dare you talk to Jiang-shao like that?!”

“Apologize right now, or suffer the consequences!”

“Who the hell are you to act like this? You’re nothing! Do you even know what a capital aristocratic family is?”

They were practically foaming at the mouth now. On the verge of throwing punches.

Barely twenty, all hormones and ego, nothing more than overgrown kids.

Su Wujì eyed them lazily, amused at the sheer childishness on display.
Trying to argue with them felt like insulting his intelligence.

“So many backdoor admissions. What a waste… This school had so much promise.”

He suddenly sounded wistful.

Ahead of him stood the stone archway of the university. Etched above it, in bold and vigorous strokes:

Linjiang University.

And just beside that inscription—

Su Yaoguo.

Only Song Zhiyu noticed the subtle shift in his expression.

In his gaze, as he looked toward those carved characters, was a flicker of remembrance.

A murmur rose in his heart.

Old man… It’s been a long time since I visited your grave.