After spending so many days inside the book, Chen Zemian had already interacted with several young masters from wealthy families and had gradually summarized a few rules.
Young masters, pampered since childhood, were used to being flattered and obeyed. They possessed an excessive sense of self-importance in both their words and actions. No matter what they said or did, it always seemed natural and justified. This air of entitlement was especially pronounced when giving orders to others.
However, compared to Lu Zhuonian, the arrogance of the other young masters was practically negligible.
When Chen Zemian said, “I didn’t have this honor before,” it was clearly meant as a compliment. Who would normally respond to that with, “You have it now”?
But Lu Zhuonian did — calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It was as natural as an emperor telling his ministers to rise.
Although Lu Zhuonian was destined to build a vast, stable, and unshakable business empire and dominate global capital in the future, right now he was just a sophomore student. Where did he get such imperial airs?
In that moment, faced with this scene, Chen Zemian was at a loss for words and even felt like he should respond with, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He stared at Lu Zhuonian in disbelief, thinking, It’s really a waste for you to be the male lead in an urban drama — you should be ruling a cultivation world as an emperor.
How could someone live this confidently?
Seeing that neither Xiao Kesong nor Ye Chen looked surprised or offended, Chen Zemian couldn’t tell whether they were already used to Lu Zhuonian’s aloof superiority, or if they simply took it as a joke.
But regardless, it wasn’t easy to get someone like Lu Zhuonian — who normally kept everyone at a distance — to show even a trace of willingness to take on a “little follower.”
Seeing Chen Zemian standing there in a daze, Xiao Kesong nudged his arm, hinting that he should seize the opportunity.
At this point, if Chen Zemian didn’t say something, it would seem ungrateful. So he picked up his teacup, took a sip (in place of wine), stood up, and said respectfully, “Thank you, Mr. Lu, for your kindness.”
Lu Zhuonian replied with a simple “hmm,” neither warmly nor coldly, offering no further comment.
Chen Zemian had no choice but to continue: “I wonder if I might have the honor of serving Mr. Lu?”
At that, Lu Zhuonian looked up and stared at Chen Zemian for a long moment. Seeing how stiffly he held the teacup, he finally spoke:
“That depends on your performance.”
Clear yes or no answers were simple — what did “depends on your performance” even mean?
After hearing this, not only was Chen Zemian baffled, but even Xiao Kesong and Ye Chen exchanged confused glances.
Just as the atmosphere was becoming awkward, Lu Zhuonian raised his teacup and lightly tapped it against Chen Zemian’s.
With the crisp clink of porcelain, Lu Zhuonian said, “Perform well.”
Xiao Kesong and Ye Chen looked at each other and saw the same disbelief mirrored in each other’s eyes.
Lu Zhuonian had always been calm and composed in front of others, but for some reason today, he was teasing Chen Zhe again and again.
Chen Zemian quickly picked up on the tone, narrowed his eyes, and observed Lu Zhuonian more closely — sure enough, there was a trace of mockery in his expression.
So, he’s playing with me.
Ever since the night Lu Zhuonian had threatened him with a lumbar puncture, Chen Zemian had realized this man wasn’t exactly noble or kind, and he’d abandoned any hopes that the male lead would be a beacon of righteousness.
To be fair, it was his own suspicious behavior that had drawn Lu Zhuonian’s attention in the first place.
If he wanted to get off this special watchlist, he couldn’t argue or show attitude. He had to think: What would Chen Zhe do?
As long as he could simulate a version of himself that closely resembled the original Chen Zhe, Lu Zhuonian’s suspicions would fade with time.
After all, he had the perfect cover story: he was drunk that night, and he had a head injury. With those excuses, even strange behavior could be explained. After a while, he could gradually shift back to his real personality without it seeming abrupt.
Chen Zemian braced himself and silently repeated: Don’t look down on the poor young man. Then he looked up and flashed a fawning smile at Lu Zhuonian.
Sure enough, the mockery in Lu Zhuonian’s eyes faded just a little.
Chen Zemian pressed on: “Mr. Lu, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do my utmost to serve you — no matter what it takes, even if it costs me my life.”
Lu Zhuonian remained silent.
Chen Zemian raised his teacup with both hands, still smiling: “Mr. Lu, a toast to you.”
Lu Zhuonian’s eyebrows twitched slightly as he stared at Chen Zemian.
Chen Zemian pretended to be puzzled. “What’s wrong, Mr. Lu?”
Lu Zhuonian seemed to lose interest and replied lightly, “Nothing.”
He put down his teacup with a soft clink against the table — just loud enough to express displeasure.
Xiao Kesong didn’t understand why Lu Zhuonian’s mood had suddenly turned again. He nudged Ye Chen under the table, hoping for a clue.
Ye Chen slowly turned the rotating table counterclockwise. The plate of taro duck stopped right in front of Xiao Kesong.
Xiao Kesong: “???”
Ye Chen simply said, “Taro duck.”
Xiao Kesong still didn’t get it: “What about it?”
Ye Chen picked up the plate and dumped the taro duck into Xiao Kesong’s bowl. “Eat your food.”
Mind your own business.
Xiao Kesong: “…”
Clearly, Lu Zhuonian was unhappy.
He had always been picky about food, and the dishes at Jinlin Hotel weren’t to his taste. Now, with his mood soured, he barely touched his chopsticks.
Chen Zemian, on the other hand, was eating with great satisfaction.
Since he couldn’t go head-to-head with Lu Zhuonian, he resorted to spiritual victory:
If Lu Zhuonian was unhappy, he was happy.
And if Lu Zhuonian was unhappy because of him — then he was twice as happy.
It turns out that appetite and mood were positively correlated, and the food at Jinlin Hotel was truly delicious.
Chen Zemian ate so much that he gave himself a mild stomachache.
As the sky darkened, Xiao Kesong didn’t ask Chen Zhe to drive him home and left in his own car.
Chen Zemian had clearly seen Lu Zhuonian’s car, but still feigned courtesy: “Mr. Lu, would you like me to give you a ride?”
Lu Zhuonian’s expression grew colder. “No need.”
Chen Zemian pretended to look disappointed. “Alright, Mr. Lu. Please drive safe.”
To show just how much of a bootlicker he was, he even tried to open the car door for Lu Zhuonian — but the bodyguard beat him to it.
The customized bulletproof Maybach switched on its hazard lights, casting a luxurious glow beneath the streetlamps.
Lu Zhuonian stood next to the black luxury car, his imposing presence undiminished in the slightest. Instead, he looked even taller and longer-legged, appearing more noble and majestic.
Seeing that he was not leaving, Chen Zemian took two steps forward and asked, “Master Lu, do you have any other instructions?”
Lu Zhuonian looked at Chen Zemian closely, paused for about two seconds, then spoke condescendingly, “Will you follow my instructions?”
Chen Zemian didn’t know what this man was up to but replied decisively, “Of course, Master Lu. Please tell me what you need.”
Lu Zhuonian lowered his eyes slightly and glanced at Chen Zemian’s light golden hair. “Dye your hair back to black.”
Chen Zemian was stunned, confused. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
Lu Zhuonian’s answer was unexpected: “It’s golden and dazzling.”
Chen Zemian rarely agreed with Lu Zhuonian’s ideas, but this time he did. “I think so too.”
This color is indeed a bit eye-catching.
He had actually wanted to dye his hair a different color and had asked at the barber shop two days ago, but Tony said his hair had been bleached, and it wouldn’t look good dyed back to dark. Instead, Tony recommended gray mist brown or light rattan pink. Chen Zemian thought those options were too exaggerated, so he hadn’t done it yet.
“He’s been trying to persuade me to change my hair color. I guess he wants me to get a membership card,” Chen Zemian thought, having seen through Tony’s trick. He gathered the loose hair on his forehead behind his head, leaned over to look at his reflection in the car window: “I’ll just shave my head someday.”
Lu Zhuonian looked at his reflection in the glass. He couldn’t imagine a bald head swaying around him, so he immediately rejected the idea. “Not good.”
Chen Zemian looked at Lu Zhuonian through the mirror, confused. Why?
Lu Zhuonian was silent for a few seconds, then said, “More dazzling.”
It was true, and with the weather getting colder day by day, a bald head would feel very chilly.
Chen Zemian accepted the advice humbly. “Okay, I’ll listen to you.”
The three words “I’ll listen to you” sounded particularly pleasant to Lu Zhuonian’s ears.
Finally, Lu Zhuonian heard something pleasing from Chen Zhe. His mood improved, and he even felt more comfortable looking at that shining golden hair.
He nodded in satisfaction, stepped into the car with his long legs, and a bodyguard immediately came forward to close the door.
The Maybach engine roared and drove away in style.
After obtaining the initial funding sponsored by Mr. Xiao, Chen Zemian put the game development work on the agenda.
According to the plan, he randomly found a few computer science students from a prestigious university, outsourced the basic program construction, and set a timeline of three months.
The development of both online and mobile games in this world is slower than in his original world. Many popular games that later became hits had not yet been released here. Chen Zemian’s game design framework was a card-drawing game combining a thrilling plot with novel combat methods. If done well, it had great prospects.
The essence of card-drawing games is the “krypton gold” for players and game companies alike. To make a card-drawing game succeed, the art design must be excellent, and character details exquisitely crafted. This is very different from combat training games that simply draw heads and limbs.
Combat training games have excellent market performance, especially multiplayer shooting games that were once very popular. The gun design is highly realistic, the footsteps’ sound effects are nuanced, and the gameplay is quite exciting.
Chen Zemian’s hearing was better than ordinary people’s. It was like he had cheats when playing that game — he could pinpoint players’ positions by the sound of footsteps without seeing them. His blind shooting was incredibly accurate, so outrageous that his teammates reported him.
If his father hadn’t forbidden him to drop out of school in his senior year of high school, Chen Zemian would have become a professional gamer. By the time he graduated college at 22, most professional players were already preparing to retire, and the game’s popularity had declined.
Chen Zhe in this world had just reached adulthood, a good age to become a pro player. Unfortunately, that game didn’t exist here yet.
Chen Zemian felt itchy and wanted to make that game — and play it.
Building a game framework wasn’t difficult, but some firearm parameters were tricky to handle.
“What’s so difficult about this?” Xiao Kesong said. “Zhuo Nian loves playing with guns. He opened an international shooting range in Beijing. There’s also a gun museum in a private estate abroad. I’ve been there — it’s like an armory.”
For the first time, Chen Zemian didn’t understand what Chinese meant.
An international shooting range in Beijing and a gun museum abroad? That was really niche.
He knew Lu Zhuonian was rich, but didn’t expect him to be this wealthy.
Xiao Kesong said, “The Lu family has everything they want. Not just gun parameters — he can even get you the uranium bullet ratio. If you want the data, just ask him. If you’re embarrassed, I can give you a heads up first.”
Chen Zemian’s first reaction was to avoid Lu Zhuonian, but on second thought, taking advantage of this opportunity to get close to Young Master Lu was more like what Chen Zhe would do.
Maybe if he tried to curry favor a few more times, Lu Zhuonian would get annoyed and stop staring at him, thinking there was something wrong with him.
So Chen Zemian carefully considered his wording and asked Xiao Kesong to convey his message.
He didn’t know how Xiao Kesong conveyed it.
Chen Zemian’s original words were:
“You’re so awesome. If you go to a shooting range someday, can you call me along if it’s convenient? I also like playing with guns.”
What Xiao Kesong said to Lu Zhuonian was:
“Chen Zhe said you are very good and wants to play guns with you.”
“How do you want to play?”
At the shooting range, Lu Zhuonian took off his windbreaker and handed it to the staff, then turned to Chen Zemian and asked, “What do you want to play?”
*****
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