Chapter Thirteen: Three Encounters

It was noon, the lunch hour, when the waiter led them to a table by the window on the second floor—one that Zhang Bo had reserved earlier.

The sky was overcast, with faint shards of sunlight flickering behind the clouds. A cool breeze brushed past, exceptionally refreshing.

The restaurant buzzed with lively chatter, and the rich aroma of hotpot seasonings stirred appetites, making one eager to indulge immediately.

“Here, order whatever you want,” Zhang Bo said naturally, handing the menu to Luo Xiaoluan seated directly opposite him. His tone was gentle, striving to present his refined and cultured side—after all, aren’t girls these days fond of that type? Yet his eyes betrayed him, unable to resist gazing warmly at the young lady.

Zhang Bo’s seat had been specially arranged by Xiao Xiao and the others, taking into account the position of the girl opposite.

Sitting face to face over hotpot, amid the curling steam, the quiet stirrings of affection felt perfectly fitting.

Besides, distance breeds beauty, and a hint of mystery only adds to it.

Zhuge Yun, who fancied himself the love strategist of the group, smiled knowingly.

Still, he discreetly nudged their leader with his elbow. “Play it cool—don’t scare the girl off.”

Zhao Lu’s eye twitched. “Boss, you’ve got the natural charm; there’s no need to pretend to be a gentleman. That’s the specialty of those pretty boys. You should stick to your straightforward, bold manly style.”

Xiao Xiao sat by the window, his gaze drifting downward. The two groups who had gathered earlier at the entrance had already left.

Looking around further, he saw no sign of them anywhere.

He could only give up.

There remained a nagging concern about that girl.

“Number Three, what are you spacing out for? Hurry up, see if there’s anything else to order—boss is paying!” Zhuge Yun, ever the loyal comrade, thrust the menu in front of Xiao Xiao with a warm, friendly grin, emphasizing his last words with clear, ringing tones.

Xiao Xiao took the menu, chuckling softly before adding a few dishes he liked without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Zhang Bo was too absorbed in watching his goddess to bother with his teasing friends.

After all, he was ready to spend lavishly to win the beauty’s heart.

…

After the meal, both groups, caught in the right mood, naturally went to see a movie together.

A blockbuster had just been released a few days prior.

Zhang Bo was over the moon, completely ignoring the many third wheels present, treating it singlehandedly as a date.

His foolishness nearly made Xiao Xiao and the others want to bury their faces in their hands.

---

“Ah, well, a loyal but clueless dog has his charm too. Who knows? Maybe that’s exactly what the girl likes,” Zhuge Yun said optimistically.

Zhao Lu looked utterly exasperated.

Xiao Xiao’s shoulders trembled—he couldn’t help but want to laugh. What was he to do?

…

The movie ended, and the audience filtered out, chatting excitedly about the plot.

Suddenly, piercing screams shattered the lively, peaceful atmosphere, and panic began to spread through the theater.

“What’s happening?” Xu Ying flicked her ponytail and was the first to stride swiftly toward the gathering crowd ahead.

The others quickly followed.

Thanks to Xu Ying’s and Zhang Bo’s deft maneuvering and especially Xu Ying’s fearless leadership, they managed to break through the throng and reach the front.

Raising their eyebrows in surprise, it was an uncanny coincidence—once again, it was them.

Indeed, standing before them were the young gentlemen they had seen just at noon.

However, the female lead remained the same, but the young man was different—still familiar, but now it was the one who had clashed with that arrogant fellow earlier.

The delicate, beautiful girl was being comforted in the anxious young man’s arms, while a man pinned to the ground by two others muttered wildly, growing louder and more hysterical: “It’s all your fault, it’s all your fault. Why did you betray me? Why?”

A pool of blood was shockingly vivid on the floor, and nearby lay a bloodied knife gleaming coldly.

Looking closer, the girl’s arm was slashed—seemingly a deep wound, blood spreading across her arm, with drops still falling.

Her brows knitted tightly, her face pale, lips pressed thin and colorless. Tears welled in her eyes, brimming with disbelief and pain, panic and fear, and a trace of suffering.

It was hard not to wonder: how could anyone harm such a pitiable girl?

…

To be honest, what had just occurred was clear as day—except for one strange detail: the most important “kidnapper” was nowhere to be found. Instead, another young man stood by the girl’s side.

“Wow, so quickly replaced by someone else?” Zhuge Yun teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

…

Suspicious, Xiao Xiao carefully observed the subtle changes in the girl’s expression.

And at last, he caught it.

The girl seemed unable to bear the young man’s angry, pained gaze, turning her head to bury it in the person behind her.

In that fleeting moment, Xiao Xiao glimpsed a cold, fleeting smile in her eyes.

Though her face portrayed sorrow and unbearable pain, her eyes betrayed an incongruous expression—a faint, almost sinister smirk, tinged with a sense of triumph or malice, or perhaps nothing at all—a hollow, chilling smile.

When Xiao Xiao looked again, it was as if his eyes had deceived him. Before him was the pale profile of a girl marked by injury and fear.

So fragile and pitiful.

Her delicate frame trembled slightly.

…

“Xiao Rou!” a young man hurried over, shoving away the one holding the girl and wrapping her tightly in his arms.

After shooting a fierce glare at the opportunist from before, he comforted her relentlessly.

…

“Oh, the main players have arrived,” Zhang Jiajia twirled a lock of her long hair with her finger, watching with keen interest.

“Truly dramatic,” Wu Ya sighed.

“Just like a novel,” Xu Ying said, almost dumbfounded.

Luo Xiaoluan’s eyes widened, her pupils spinning as she chimed in, “A cliché, third-rate romance novel, no less.”

Nearby, Zhang Bo and the others listened to the girls’ chatter, engaging eagerly in the discussion.

“Truly a femme fatale!”

“To turn love into hatred like that is so tasteless. No matter what, they were together before. Even if they broke up, there should still be some affection left. How could someone actually hurt her?”

“The deeper the love, the sharper the hate! Youngest, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

…