Lu Xun said this with his hands still leisurely tucked in his pockets, as if he didn’t take the man in front of him seriously in the slightest—which, predictably, only further enraged the other man.

“You say I can’t touch her, and I just can’t?” The line-cutting guy raised his fist, aiming straight for Qian Wei’s face.

But Lu Xun stayed perfectly composed, as if he’d anticipated the move all along. He cut in from the side, seized the man’s wrist, and before Qian Wei could even register what was happening, executed a clean shoulder throw that put the man flat on the ground. Despite the man’s bulky build, Lu Xun made it look effortless, like tossing aside a sack of rice. No surprise, really, given he’d been training in sanda since he was a kid—every movement crisp and economical, without a wasted motion.

“Aaargh!” The man, pinned firmly to the ground by Lu Xun, let out a pained groan.

Lu Xun’s eyes turned sharp. “Apologize to her.”

“Why should I apologize? You think you can just assault someone in public like this, above the law? Aren’t you afraid of going to prison?”

“Of course not.” Lu Xun smiled. “Causing injury above a minor degree is what constitutes the crime of intentional assault under the Criminal Law. What I just did to you doesn’t even come close to that threshold—at most, it’d fall under the Public Security Administration Punishments Regulations, but the circumstances are so minor it’d just result in mediation, not even a fine.” His voice carried a mocking edge. “Don’t cut in line next time, and maybe read a book once in a while—being uneducated really is dangerous.”

Qian Wei listened, dumbstruck, wanting to applaud him right then and there. A top student really was a top student—able to apply what he’d learned in any situation. Turns out mastering public security law comes in handy even in a fistfight.

Perhaps emboldened by Lu Xun’s intervention, the people behind Qian Wei who’d earlier stayed silent about the line-cutting finally spoke up too.

“These two cut in line first! We all saw it!”

“Such poor manners, and no shame either—even trying to hit a girl…”

As more and more people sided with Qian Wei and Lu Xun, the line-cutting couple’s bravado crumbled further. The guy, pinned beneath Lu Xun and unable to break free no matter how he struggled, was defeated both physically and mentally.

Finally, he muttered, “Sorry…”

Lu Xun, clearly unsatisfied with that, said coldly, “Louder.”

The man’s face contorted with humiliation, but after some squirming, he finally shouted, “I’m sorry!”

Only then did Lu Xun release him. The man, apparently mortified beyond words, slunk off into the crowd without another word, all his earlier bluster gone.

Once the couple left, the crowd settled back into order, but with Lu Xun’s presence, Qian Wei found herself the target of countless glances as well—she had no choice but to grit her teeth and bear the weight of stares from every direction, thick with envy, admiration, jealousy, and evaluation, so obvious it left her standing there uneasily.

“Aren’t you going back to your own line to order?” Lu Xun, empty-handed, clearly hadn’t gotten his turn yet before being drawn over by the commotion. Qian Wei glanced at him. “Thanks for earlier,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. “I should’ve just avoided the confrontation—now you had to come all the way over here, and your spot in line’s gone to waste.”

“The law exists to resolve conflict. You’re a law student—why would you be afraid of conflict?” Even though he’d gone out of his way to help her, Lu Xun still maintained that same aloof, superior air, his tone as stiff as ever. Still, Qian Wei had to admit—with that face of his, it felt like whatever he did could be forgiven. His temper was just “personality.” His sharp tongue was just “wit.” There was something inherently commanding about Lu Xun—handsome and incisive, like a sword that governed life and death, rarely drawn but devastating once it was. Even his aloof arrogance felt, in Qian Wei’s eyes, entirely justified. Sometimes he’d say nothing at all, just stand there with that gorgeous, icy face, and Qian Wei would practically want to kneel and give thanks for basking in his glow, wanting to say, “Thank you for descending from the heavens.”

“I’m not going back.” Lu Xun kept it brief. “I’ll just line up here instead.”

“But didn’t you say you don’t eat junk food? This line’s only for pizza…” Besides, the line he’d been in before hadn’t even been that long—he’d probably have gotten his food quickly. Qian Wei couldn’t quite make sense of it.

Lu Xun arched an eyebrow, looking displeased. “I’ve suddenly developed a taste for junk food. You have a problem with that?”

“No, not at all!” Qian Wei said obsequiously. “Then let me treat you to this pizza!”

Lu Xun gave her a haughty glance, offering neither agreement nor refusal, which Qian Wei took as tacit approval.

Junk food has always been more popular than healthy food, and the pizza line was genuinely long. Qian Wei and Lu Xun had no choice but to stand and wait together. Lu Xun clearly had no intention of continuing the conversation—he put his earbuds back in and started listening to music. Left to her own devices, Qian Wei glanced around out of boredom, and spotted a familiar face.

The line-cutting couple who’d slunk off earlier had gathered a few more people and reappeared, eyeing the crowd with obvious hostility, and were now looking straight at Qian Wei. Alarm bells rang in her head. She suddenly remembered—the couple had mentioned wanting to order eight pizzas, which meant they clearly had more friends with them.

“Lu Xun…” Qian Wei instinctively tugged at his sleeve.

Whatever the situation, Lu Xun remained utterly composed. He calmly removed his earbuds, then rolled up his sleeves and gave his wrist a light stretch, radiating an air of “bring it on, one at a time or all at once.”

The line-cutting guy, who’d been pinned down by Lu Xun earlier and clearly hadn’t expected him to still be there after his good deed, deflated instantly. Realizing he was no match for Lu Xun, he could only shoot Qian Wei a resentful glare before slinking away once more.

It was only then that realization dawned on Qian Wei—Lu Xun hadn’t stuck around because he’d suddenly developed a craving for junk food after all. He’d stayed to protect her from retaliation. These small-time troublemakers, having lost face at Lu Xun’s hands, weren’t the type to let it go so easily—though they were used to throwing their weight around, they’d never admit defeat that easily. With so many other visitors wearing the same souvenir shirts by coincidence, and no one lining up together with Lu Xun, they’d probably assumed he was just some random good samaritan who’d leave once the matter was resolved, and had planned to come back and take it out on Qian Wei instead. Especially since the guy had lost face in front of his girlfriend—he’d absolutely want to win back his pride.

Though Lu Xun always carried himself with an air of superiority, when it mattered, he really did think things through carefully. Qian Wei said sincerely, “Lu Xun, thank you.”

“Don’t overthink it.” In response, he turned his face away, his tone as detached as ever. “I really just suddenly wanted pizza.” But despite his best efforts to seem indifferent toward her, the faint red creeping up the tips of his ears gave him away.

Qian Wei studied his profile, her thoughts churning with excitement. Look at that—Lu Xun really was all bark, contradicting even his own gratitude like this, let alone how he’d act around his beloved Mo Zixin. The more someone likes another person, the more they deny it. Qian Wei thought, well, given how he’d stood up for her today, she’d definitely do her part to help him find happiness.

Watching his back, she silently clenched her fist. “Lu Xun, your future happiness—leave it to me!”

Unfortunately, Qian Wei’s grand ambitions were quickly doused by reality. No matter how much she craned her neck looking around, there was no sign of Qian Chuan or Mo Zixin anywhere. Suddenly feeling like she’d lost her whole sense of purpose, she slumped, thoroughly dejected.

“Ugh, what do we do now! This means Qian Chuan gets a whole day alone with Mo Zixin! We’re doomed, doomed!”

Lu Xun, however, remained entirely unbothered, even as Qian Wei worked herself into a panic. He offered up an infuriatingly casual remark instead: “You think spending a whole day alone together automatically means they’ll end up as a couple?”

“You never know how these things could go! I know Qian Chuan—when he sets out to win someone over, he’s quite good at buttering people up, incredibly attentive and thoughtful. Earlier at the haunted house, if Mo Zixin got scared, he’d have played the hero, holding her hand and all that—it’s dark in there, her heart would’ve been pounding, and she might not even be able to tell fear from attraction anymore! Give it enough time and that’s exactly how people end up together!”

“Spending a day alone together doesn’t automatically lead to a relationship. Some people can spend all the time in the world together and still never become a couple.” Lu Xun smiled, unconcerned.

Qian Wei sighed heavily. “I’d advise you not to be so blindly optimistic. The chemistry between men and women is a strange thing—you shouldn’t be so overconfident, underestimating the enemy like this…”

Lu Xun raised an eyebrow. “So if the two of us spent a whole day alone together like this, would we end up together?”

“That… that’s different…” Qian Wei stumbled over her words. “For two people spending time alone together to actually end up as a couple, there has to be a precondition—at least one of them has to have romantic feelings for the other. I swear I have absolutely no romantic feelings toward you!”

“Then how do you know I don’t have romantic feelings toward you?”

“That’s… that’s not really appropriate to say…” Qian Wei stammered for a moment. “I’ve heard of a toad lusting after swan meat, but I’ve never heard of a swan throwing itself at a toad…”

The corner of Lu Xun’s mouth twitched upward into an unrestrained smile, and only then did Qian Wei realize he’d been joking the whole time. She let out a breath of relief.

“Hey, Lu Xun, don’t joke about things like that, it stresses me out.”

Hearing that, Lu Xun looked genuinely displeased. “What, so if I liked you, you’d be unhappy about it? Stressed out? Not satisfied?”

“No, no, no, no!” Qian Wei backpedaled shamelessly. “Being liked by you would obviously be an honor! It’s just that, well, the problem is, you’re the swan, and I’m the toad. Think about it, we’re not even in the same league—a swan like you should go after another swan. If, by some miracle, your eyesight really did fail you and you fell for a toad like me, wouldn’t that put me under a ton of pressure? First off, right now your eyes may be off, but what if that questionable taste of yours suddenly corrects itself down the road? With your qualifications, you could go straight back to your swan flock and find one of your own kind in an instant. And then I, the discarded toad, would be utterly miserable—and worse, having already tasted swan meat, would I even be able to look at other toads the same way again? I’d probably end up alone and lonely forever after being dumped! Second, someone with your qualifications is already rare among swans, and if I, a mere toad, monopolized you, wouldn’t that seriously disrupt the whole dating market for the swan community? Wouldn’t the other swans eyeing you gang up and squeeze me out? And as a toad myself, if I passed up other toads and picked a swan instead, I wouldn’t fit in with the toad community either—after all, everyone can accept others doing worse than them, or about the same, but nobody can stand it when someone at their own level suddenly rises above them. So you see, in the end, I’d be resented everywhere I turned! And besides, from a biological standpoint, toads and swans together never end well anyway.”

“Qian Wei, when it comes to spouting nonsense, you really do have quite the way with words.” Lu Xun smiled. “But you don’t need to sell yourself short. You’re definitely not a toad.”

Coming from someone as famously sharp-tongued as Lu Xun, hearing something like that genuinely moved Qian Wei. It seemed like, in his eyes, she was actually someone of worth after all! Not just not a toad, but a swan just like him!

Unfortunately, before she could enjoy the feeling for long, Lu Xun continued: “Your skin’s actually pretty nice, smooth. Toads are all bumpy and warty, so going by that, you’re definitely not a toad—you’re at least a frog.”

“…”

Lu Xun, thanks so much for that.