2 The Scandalous Photos

Not long after Lu Mingzhao met with Zhou Gong, a crisp notification from the system sounded. Half-awake and half-asleep, the sharp alert immediately dispelled his drowsiness.

“What is this?” he asked, rubbing his brow as he looked at the glowing orb hovering by his pillow. He gestured for it to lower its brightness; it was far too glaring.

Aware that it was disturbing his rest but prioritizing the mission, the system obediently dimmed the light and presented a card to Lu Mingzhao.

He lightly touched the card, and the figure on it turned around. Clad in what was less clothing and more a humiliating piece of provocative attire, the once radiant face was now marred with scars, a tear mark drooping as if bleeding tears.

The backstory attached to this character card was even more distressing.

[Lu Mingzhao appraised Luo Wen with a gaze devoid of emotion, treating him like a lifeless tool.]

[Luo Wen knelt on the ground, head bowed submissively, eyes devoid of any sparkle, engulfed in a dead silence.]

There were many more degrading scenes detailed, causing Lu Mingzhao’s brow to furrow deeply, his expression darkening.

“...”

He felt reluctant to continue reading. Even though he knew this was from a parallel world, just a fictional storyline, and had mentally prepared himself, seeing every degrading moment of Luo Wen unfold before his eyes was truly unbearable.

“Just give me a summary of the plot later. No need to make me watch it all unfold,” Lu Mingzhao said coldly after a pause.

“In short, we’ve successfully resolved one of the story arcs that led to Luo Wen’s descent into darkness!” the system quietly cheered.

Indeed, according to the original plot, Lu Mingzhao should have subjected Luo Wen to a long and harsh training, leaving him bedridden for days, too exhausted to fulfill his teacher’s demanding assignments, eventually blacklisted and losing a crucial opportunity for advancement.

But that didn’t matter.

Backed by the powerful Lu family fortune, finding an excellent mentor for Luo Wen was no trouble. Moreover, he was confident that Luo Wen’s talents would impress anyone.

“Host, let’s keep up the good work!” the system, with its short wire-like hands clenched in enthusiasm, urged.

“All right, all right,” Lu Mingzhao replied half-heartedly, thinking this rookie system was unreliable and that he still had to rely on himself.

The system was simple-minded and remained cheerful despite his dismissiveness.

Repeated disturbances had already wiped away his sleepiness, so he gave up trying to sleep as dawn broke.

He pulled out his phone and browsed through current affairs and finance sections to gauge the developmental differences between the two worlds. They were not significant, but several promising industries had yet to emerge years ago—enough for him to get an early foothold. He also needed considerable power to protect Luo Wen.

Those fleeting antagonists who dared to mistreat Luo Wen in the story were backed by forces that could even rival the Lu family.

Compared to uncertain plot twists, Lu Mingzhao preferred to prepare in advance.

With many thoughts flashing through his mind, he closed his eyes and dialed a number.

A stern, steady male voice answered.

“What now? Causing trouble again? I told your brother to keep an eye on you. Look at you! Is this proper?”

“Let my brother control me? Are you planning to go to your grave then?” Lu Mingzhao’s eyes flickered with sarcasm as he spoke in his usual lazy young master tone.

The silence on the other end was telling, so Lu Mingzhao cut to the chase. “Don’t play the traditional patriarch. Return my bank card. I have serious business.”

“What serious business? You’ve been conned again, haven’t you? You...” More scolding came through the phone, which Lu Mingzhao listened to expressionlessly until a magnetic, gentle voice interrupted.

“Xiao Zhao, don’t argue with Dad. Your brother will send you some money later,” the voice asked cautiously. “Your birthday’s soon. Will you be coming back this year?”

Lu Mingzhao was silent for a moment before replying, “Got it.”

It was well known that Lu Mingzhao and his father were estranged, but outsiders only knew the surface, not the reasons.

In truth, there was nothing much to say.

An unfaithful father, a mother who committed suicide, and a young master raised in a sugar-coated life who couldn’t bear it anymore, thus becoming the rebellious eldest son of the Lu family.

His biological father felt guilty and, with an older brother who always sided against him, despite dissatisfaction with his choice to study gaming, had no choice but to let him be.

Lu Mingzhao hadn’t reconciled with his father before he died in his previous life. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but every time he opened his mouth, his mother’s bloodied face haunted him.

He, as a son, could not forgive, and that was that.

Life was full of disappointments, and when it came to this world’s father, he was even less inclined to make peace.

A notification sound chimed on his phone, signaling a substantial transfer. Lu Mingzhao sent a message arranging proper care for Luo Wen’s mother. This process took some time.

Just as he put down his phone, he noticed Luo Wen, who had awakened without his knowledge, watching him.

“What are you looking at?” he raised an eyebrow, but Luo Wen turned away, avoiding his intense gaze.

“Thank you,” Luo Wen said softly, his pale face expressionless but the subtle softness in his eyes from last night’s comfort betraying a gentle emotion.

He had heard about Lu Mingzhao’s arrangements for his mother, and the heavy weight on his heart finally eased.

[Hatred level -1; Antagonist’s current hatred level: 69]

“Pretty easy to soothe, huh?” Lu Mingzhao thought, glad that his words hadn’t been wasted. Seeing Luo Wen curled up in the blanket, his fair face wrapped snugly, looking obedient and clever, he seemed to momentarily lose the overwhelming fear that had haunted him, smiling gently as he leaned in.

“So good!” he whispered, his voice rich and imbued with charm.

Luo Wen was startled, then lowered his head further, exposing a delicate neck as he leaned slightly into Lu Mingzhao’s embrace.

For a moment, the scent of wood lingered in the air, and warmth seemed to pass through bodies.

His eyes lowered, the shadow of melancholy flickered briefly. Moments later, he lifted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, carrying a subtle, mesmerizing allure.

“I’ll be even better,” he murmured softly, as if resigned.

If not for the system’s prompt and Lu Mingzhao’s rising alertness, he might have truly been deceived by him.

The system’s little heart pounded wildly at the volatile numbers, and Lu Mingzhao once again enjoyed the thrill of dancing on the edge of danger, calm and collected even as he comforted the tearful system.

“It’s okay, you have to get used to it.”

But in the system’s ears, this sounded like whispers from the Grim Reaper, deepening its despair. It couldn’t understand why its big data had bound it to such a hopeless case.

This world was probably beyond saving... it despondently thought.

Lu Mingzhao ignored the system’s gloom, got out of bed, and dressed. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten the seemingly fragile but actually world-destroying human weapon lying beside him like a living atomic bomb.

“Senior Luo, are you heading back to school or coming with me?”

If Luo Wen was willing, Lu Mingzhao wouldn’t mind taking him along for business. Having such a formidable killer by his side was reassuring.

Luo Wen shook his head, opened his phone, and a message from his mentor was already waiting.

“I’ll go back to school,” he said, slowly rising from bed, though the soreness throughout his body stiffened him, making his movements sluggish.

He pressed his lips together and stopped moving, casting Lu Mingzhao a glance. Seeing him busy with his phone, he relaxed and got up, picking up clothes from the floor to put on one by one.

They were his original clothes, but somehow the hem was stained.

Luo Wen’s expression darkened. Staggering to the bathroom, he squeezed some body wash and began scrubbing the stained edges.

He washed carefully, but despite his efforts, the stains spread and soaked the entire hem quickly.

The dirty patches expanded, like the dust settling deep in Luo Wen’s heart, the darkness slowly spreading.

He stared blankly, momentarily lost in thought.

“What’s wrong? You look so dazed,” Lu Mingzhao came closer, puzzled to see him holding a dirty white shirt, lost in thought.

He left and returned, now holding a brand-new black shirt.

“If you don’t mind, wear this,” said the young master, noticing Luo Wen’s silence and a stubbornness in his expression. He said no more, instead forcefully slipping the new shirt into his arms, pushing Luo Wen aside, and taking the battered white shirt. He roughly scrubbed it a few times, then cocked his head, looking at Luo Wen. “There, all done, right? I know you’re attached to it. I’ll hang it up for you later. You can pick it up next time.”

Luo Wen’s gaze shifted from the shirt to Lu Mingzhao, then to the roughly treated white shirt, surprisingly without refusal.

The black shirt in his hands exuded an unfamiliar yet familiar scent of deep incense, oddly warming his palms.

Lu Mingzhao smiled slightly, noting how the beautiful youth before him, now dazed and disheveled, had lost all the charm he had last night. His tousled hair made him look like a silly goose—foolish yet endearing, making it hard to bring himself to tease him.

Lu Mingzhao sighed. “Go get ready. I’ll take you to school first.”

Luo Wen, unusually obedient, clutched the black shirt and quietly went to change.

When he came out, Lu Mingzhao’s eyes brightened.

Luo Wen’s phoenix-like eyes, high nose, and lips like red lacquer, dressed in black, carried a subtle allure. The cold and detached aura he radiated made the tear marks under his eyes stand out strikingly, instantly capturing anyone’s attention.

Thinking of Luo Wen’s future achievements and seeing this refined, aloof youth, Lu Mingzhao somewhat understood what kind of person could be called a “high mountain flower.”

But he would not tolerate humiliation.

He preferred to be the one to admire the flower.

“Young Master Lu, how was last night?”

Ding dong— a message notification sounded as Lu Mingzhao sat in the car, his long fingers hanging out the window, waiting for Luo Wen to pack.

He sifted through memories of the other Luo Wen from his past life. Wow, what a “remarkable” scoundrel that one was—indiscriminate and promiscuous—just like the original Lu Mingzhao, often exchanging partners.

Before Lu Mingzhao had arrived in this world, the two had even discussed Luo Wen’s charms and his future ownership.

The old Lu Mingzhao had even promised to send provocative photos of Luo Wen to that other party for “sampling.”

Lu Mingzhao couldn’t help but make a disgusted face: Was that really him in another world? Could he really stoop that low?

While he looked down on his former self, the other party seemed eager and sent another message.

“Remember what we agreed on. No backing out now.” A heavily sarcastic voice played clearly inside the quiet car. “Young Master Lu, you’re just reluctant? Don’t be. It’s just a toy.”

“I have a rising second-tier celebrity on hand, way more exciting. Can’t be worse than Luo Wen, right?”

Before Lu Mingzhao could reply, the system exploded in rage.

“That disgusting scum! He’s partly responsible for the villain’s corruption in the original story. He deserves to die!”

Indeed, if not for Lu Mingzhao’s intervention, Luo Wen would have fallen into that person’s hands, something Lu Mingzhao could predict without unlocking the plot.

Coldness flickered in his eyes as a faint but chilling smile curled on his lips.

“No,” he said lightly, “I think your Ke Tianyu’s backside is softer and easier to handle. How about you wash up and deliver him to me?”

The other party fell silent, sending no more messages, though Lu MingzhaoI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.