Chapter 3

It couldn’t be a “favorability rating,” right? Normal people don’t have a favorability of negative one hundred. How much do you have to hate someone for that?
No way. So, it wasn’t that. Relieved, Gu An’an drifted peacefully into sleep.
The day Xie Jinxing returned, Gu An’an was up early. Lu Xingyu hadn’t said anything about forcing her to drop out of school that day, but just in case, she planned to strike first, to pay a visit to Grandpa Xie and secure her footing.
No matter how the rest of the Xie family felt about her, the old man truly cherished her.
The Xie family was the type of old aristocratic house that had survived revolutions and upheavals without losing much of its fortune. In Jing City, few families could stand alongside them. Wealthy as they were, the family itself was small: four children in total. The eldest daughter Xie Lingyun and the youngest son Xie Jinxing were his biological children, while the second and third sons, Xie Liang and Xie Ming, were the children of two deceased brothers.
Though the Xies were a noble family among nobles, they were discreet about it.
Grandpa Xie’s approach to raising children bordered on ruthless, but it worked. Every single one of them was outstanding.
The downside? None of them were close to him. The old manor was usually empty, save for the old man himself. For the past five years, Gu An’an’s company had, in some way, filled that void of familial affection.
Still, she worried. What if the old man noticed something off about her?
The Xie estate sat halfway up a mountain in the suburbs of Jing City, no public transport reached it, and even the subway left you halfway there.
Just getting there cost her a hundred yuan. She touched her empty pockets and immediately regretted splurging on two bowls of thirty-yuan pork-intestine noodles yesterday. So extravagant, so foolish.
The Xie family manor sprawled across a vast estate, complete with an artificial lake and a sprawling garden.
When Gu An’an reached the gate, the massive iron doors swung open automatically. A security guard came in a small cart to pick her up.
The household staff were all familiar with her; after all, she’d lived there five years. They cared for the old master and for her. She was just about to greet them when a car slowly rolled toward her.
The car moved leisurely, stopping right beside her.
The window lowered, revealing Lu Xingyu’s handsome face. Honestly, if one could overlook his idiotic sense of fashion and tasteless personality, he really was good-looking: peach-blossom eyes, tall nose, long legs, a perfect 185-centimeter golden ratio. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from spewing garbage the moment he saw her. “Didn’t I tell you not to come within ten meters of me?”
He leaned on the car window, chin raised proudly.
Gu An’an’s gaze lifted and there it was again. The faint blue slime floating above his head. Even though she’d seen it before, it still amazed her. The number inside: 29.
Wait, wasn’t it 27 before?
“You blind? I’ve been here five minutes already,” she shot back. No one could out-sass her in a war of words.
Lu Xingyu choked, glaring at her.
Today, Gu An’an wasn’t dressed in her usual forced “socialite” style. She wore a simple white T-shirt, gray pants, and white sneakers. No makeup, her hair loose over her shoulders.
“You?” He blinked, then muttered, “You actually look... somewhat human today.”
As expected, his mouth belonged in a toilet. Gu An’an couldn’t be bothered with his nonsense, she just rolled her eyes so hard they nearly fell out.
If that slime represented “favorability,” she wondered what score he gave to random strangers.
If it was higher than hers, then Lu Xingyu wasn’t human. She’d been practically his servant for five years, always around, bringing him water during basketball practice, answering roll call for him in class. Maybe no merit, but plenty of hard work! A passing grade wouldn’t kill him!
“Thanks,” she said sweetly, “but you look more like a humanoid praying mantis.”
“You, !”
He practically vibrated with rage. For all his temper, the young master was still too well-bred to actually curse her out. His nostrils flared.
“Gu! An! An!”
“Yes, that’s me. Why are you yelling?” she said coolly. Normally she’d roast him alive, but since they were at the Xie estate, she restrained herself.
“Who did you just call a humanoid mantis?!”
“Whoever fits the description.”
“You, !”
She rolled her eyes again. With expulsion hanging over her head like the Sword of Damocles, she couldn’t waste time arguing with a spoiled rich boy. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she said flatly, “You enjoy being mad. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Ignoring him, she climbed into the cart.
The security guard stood silently by, pretending to be part of the scenery.
Lu Xingyu gave a cold snort, rolled up his window, and drove off.
“...Insane,” she muttered.
–––
The family dinner that night was supposed to be simple, but in the Xie household, it was an event. After all, the youngest son, Xie Jinxing, the male lead of this story, hadn’t been home in nine years.
Brilliant but rebellious, Xie Jinxing’s relationship with his father had always been volatile. The old man was an iron-willed patriarch, believing “a stick makes a filial son.” The two had been at odds since Xie Jinxing learned to talk. He despised being controlled; his father despised disobedience. Nine years ago, they’d had a falling out so severe that Xie Jinxing left home with nothing but a backpack.
He’d never asked for a cent from his family since, built his own empire in the AI industry, one of the top firms in the country. He wouldn’t have returned even now if the old man hadn’t used his failing health as leverage.
That was how important this dinner was.
By the time Gu An’an entered the living room, all the younger members of the family were already there. Lu Xingyu sat among them, laughing. Gu An’an didn’t go over like she usually would; she kept her head down and walked in quietly.
“Why’s that bootlicker here?” one of the cousins whispered.
Lu Xingyu frowned. Annoying as she was, calling her a “bootlicker” was a bit much.
“Probably Grandpa invited her.”
Everyone knew the old man doted on Gu An’an. “But on such an important day? Does he really see her as one of us?”
Someone muttered about the rumored engagement between the Xie and Gu families. “Grandpa’s so old-fashioned.”
Their gazes flicked toward Lu Xingyu, after all, the rumored fiancé was him. Originally, it shouldn’t have fallen on his head, but with no other male heirs, he became the default choice.
Lu Xingyu’s brows knitted, his mood souring.
Gu An’an wasn’t deaf; she heard everything. But she didn’t care.
Engagement, marriage, those were their elders’ fantasies, not hers. Grandpa Xie might care for her, but he’d never force his grandson to marry an orphan with no background.
She wasn’t the original Gu An’an from the book, and she certainly wouldn’t take such nonsense seriously.
Her eyes swept over the sofa. Lu Xingyu’s blue slime floated as brightly as ever.
The others? Nothing.
Interesting. So far, the only people with slimes were Lu Xingyu and Su Ruan, both key characters in Just Spoil You. Maybe only the main characters had them?
–––
When Gu An’an entered, everyone watched her expectantly, thinking she’d rush to serve Lu Xingyu as usual. Instead, she didn’t even glance his way and went straight upstairs.
Everyone stared, surprised, then turned teasing eyes toward Lu Xingyu.
He blinked, equally stunned, then pressed his lips together. Probably just scared after his “warning” earlier.
But Gu An’an didn’t care what he thought. She was here to talk to Grandpa Xie, to preemptively report and protect herself.
Nip the danger in the bud.
The study was at the end of the second-floor hallway, tucked away in a quiet corner.
As she approached, she heard the sharp crash of porcelain hitting the ground. She froze, then hurried closer. The carpet muffled her steps.
The study door was ajar.
A tall man stood inside, his back to her.
Half-lit sunlight spilled across his shoulders. Even from behind, the broad shoulders and black shirt made an impression. His profile revealed a long neck and a sharp jawline.
“...That was Mother’s last wish,” a deep, magnetic voice said. “Before she passed, she told me she wanted to be buried in the Liang family’s cemetery. Whether you agree or not, I’ll see it done.”
“Xie Jinxing!”
The old man slammed the table. “I’m not dead yet! You don’t get to make that call!”
The tension was so thick it could slice air.
“I believe you understand, I’m not asking for your opinion. I’m informing you.”
Hostility crackled in the silence.
Gu An’an, half-crouched by the door, could only make out fragments. Her curiosity got the better of her; she leaned closer,
The conversation suddenly stopped.
“???”
Before she could react, the half-closed door creaked open.
Startled, she grabbed at the edge of the door, pushing it wider instead. Losing her balance, she stumbled forward, barely catching herself with one quick step into the room.
Silence.
Right in front of her stood a tall man.
Her eyes trailed upward from his chest to his face, meeting a pair of calm, dark eyes.
A young man, strikingly handsome.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, at least 1.88 meters tall, legs for days.
His hand still rested on the door handle, fingers long and pale, the joints sharp. He wore a formal suit, hair perfectly combed except for a few stray strands that fell as he lowered his head slightly. A thin red scratch marred his cheek, a drop of blood slowly welling up.
His lashes cast faint shadows, half-hiding the cold darkness of his eyes.
Gu An’an’s gaze dropped, she was stepping on one of his polished leather shoes.
“...”
His eyes flicked toward her, cool and sharp as a blade. The kind of look that could flay someone alive for fun.
Above his head floated a gray slime. Inside: 10.
A slime! So he was the male lead, Xie Jinxing!
Cold sweat trickled down her back.
She frantically recalled the plot.
In the original story, her only “interaction” with the male lead was the infamous shark tank scene when he, delirious, dragged her into bed before feeding her to the sharks. They’d never even spoken. She doubted he even knew her name.
Maybe she could pretend to be a new maid?
“Miss Gu. My apologies,” he said, standing straight, his expression polite but distant. His lips curved slightly. “I seem to have delayed your... foot.”
His voice was so pleasant it was terrifying.
Gu An’an froze, stiff as a puppet.
Oh no. He definitely thought she’d been eavesdropping.
He slowly stepped aside, then, with a soft click, closed the study door behind him.
...Yep. He absolutely thought that.
Her lashes fluttered rapidly. Time to retreat.
“Um... I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I’m actually deaf,” she blurted out. “And nearsighted. A thousand degrees. I wasn’t spying, I was looking for my hearing aid.”
For a second, his eyes flickered.
Then he nodded seriously. “Oh? Did you find it?”
“...Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “Must’ve dropped downstairs. I’ll... go check.”
Then she bolted like she was being chased by a dog.
Watching her disappear, Xie Jinxing arched an eyebrow. His phone rang. Answering it, he turned and left.
Inside, his sister Xie Lingyun sat down where he’d been. Crossing her legs, she said sharply, “Dad, seriously? Arranged marriages in this century? If Xingyu actually liked that Gu girl, fine, but he doesn’t. You can’t force him!”
“How is it forcing? Xingyu and An’an get along just fine!”
“Fine? Since when? He can’t even stand hearing her name! You’re not getting younger, Dad. Stop making trouble. I know you feel guilty about the Gu family’s old matriarch, but this isn’t how you make amends.”
“A father’s debt should be repaid by his son! That’s how it works!”
“Then have the youngest one repay it!”
The old man slammed his cane furiously against the floor.
“No! Absolutely not! End of discussion!”
Out in the stairwell, Gu An’an, who’d turned back halfway, finally pieced together what they were arguing about. The old man wanted to arrange her engagement to Lu Xingyu, but his daughter objected.
Honestly? Whatever.
If they didn’t want her, fine.
Who cared, anyway?