Chapter 24
After listening to Director He’s words, Fu Xiuning decided to verify the handwriting. First, because there were too many anomalies surrounding Xing Shi. Second, because when he picked up Xing Shi at the airport a few days ago, the system had asked if Xing Shi had been crying. Though he hadn’t seen any signs of it on Xing Shi’s face at the time, the way the other party abruptly lowered the brim of his hat had been somewhat unusual.
Even though he’d already formed some guesses and mentally prepared himself, he was still taken aback when he saw the report.
Over the years, he had learned a great deal.
When a host’s soul travels through time and space, energy fluctuations occur upon entry, and the system locks onto these fluctuations to identify them.
Thus, the system would never mistake a time traveler for a native. If it claimed that Xing Shi was a time traveler, then he undoubtedly was one.
On the day of the class division, he had indeed heard that Xing Shi knew nothing—otherwise, he wouldn’t have run headfirst into a wall. The teacher had also mentioned that Xing Shi’s muscle structure was fully developed, as if he had foundational dance training, yet he was unable to perform even the basics. There was also that time when they sat in a café until noon, and someone had come over to greet Xing Shi. Yet, Xing Shi had only learned the person’s identity through the system’s introduction.
All signs pointed to Xing Shi being in a state of amnesia, which was consistent with the characteristics of a time-traveling host.
Fu Xiuning carefully reviewed the report.
The appraisal agency had compiled a detailed analysis, listing all the similarities and differences between the two handwriting samples.
The similarities consisted of long-term, stable individual characteristics in the strokes—traits that are unlikely to change over time—confirming that both samples belonged to the same person.
The differences, however, were minimal. Only three variations were noted due to the limited sample size. Even though the original contract had been signed by the previous owner, the number of handwritten words was still relatively small.
Fortunately, the similarities were strong enough to support a definitive conclusion.
As for the three noted differences, they were only for reference.
Fu Xiuning considered this carefully. If there were differences, it meant that something had changed.
The contract had been signed by Xing Shi himself, just a month before the class division, yet his handwriting had already undergone a noticeable transformation in such a short span of time.
He thought about Xing Shi’s heightened reflexes and agile movements, the personality shift that Director He had mentioned, and the system’s confirmation of his identity as a time traveler. A theory began to take shape in his mind.
If hosts could travel into this world, then perhaps people from this world could travel elsewhere.
Could it be that Xing Shi had traveled to another world and then returned?
If the passage of time flowed differently between the two worlds, that would explain why his handwriting had changed.
Having encountered many hosts from different time periods, Fu Xiuning had seen a variety of situations.
Every host that arrived here experienced memory loss, and only a select few had managed to gradually recover fragments of their past. He had overheard hosts and their systems discussing their previous worlds—some of which were far from being modern societies.
What kind of world had Xing Shi traveled to? And could this so-called “immunity punishment” be tied to his unique experience?
The more time he spent with Xing Shi, the more mysteries he uncovered.
Thankfully, he had taken the gamble and successfully kept Xing Shi within his sight.
Sooner or later, all would be revealed.
Fu Xiuning opened the car door, stepped out, tore the report into pieces, disposed of them in two separate trash bins, and headed back toward the inpatient department.
As he reached the elevator, he ran into the president of the student union and some others.
As soon as they saw him, their expressions mirrored that of Xing Shi’s when he was pretending to act dependent—except their reliance was completely genuine.
“Boss!” The president quickly stepped forward. “Are you just getting here, or have you already seen Xiao Cheng?”
Fu Xiuning replied, “I’ve seen him.”
The president and his group expressed their concern, “How is he? We called earlier, and he told us he had broken a bone.”
Lin Kecheng was the head of the Arts and Literature Department and was well-regarded among his peers. His sudden hospitalization had shocked many, and now they were deeply worried.
“How did he even fall down a flight of stairs? It’s terrifying!”
Fu Xiuning, feigning ignorance, answered, “He lost his balance on the stairs and dragged Xing Shi down with him.”
The president and his companions were stunned. “What?”
They hadn’t been aware of that detail. Immediately, they asked, “How’s Xing Shi? Is he alright?”
Fu Xiuning replied, “He only suffered minor injuries.”
The two groups talked as they made their way into Lin Kecheng’s ward.
At that moment, a familiar prompt sounded.
【Didi】
[Current Favorability Value: 2]
Xing Shi: “?”
System: “!!!”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
The system was completely baffled. “Did my favorability program break? Why is there a missing negative sign?”
Xing Shi ignored it, looking up at Fu Xiuning. “Boss, you’re back.”
Fu Xiuning remained composed. “Yeah.”
Xing Shi didn’t notice anything amiss in his expression. He was about to analyze the sudden increase in favorability when the president and his friends surrounded him, eager to hear his account of what had happened.
Instantly, he switched into his innocent persona and recounted the incident in detail.
“I was on the phone when he suddenly stopped walking. I didn’t react in time…”
To avoid making things too harsh on Lin Kecheng, he downplayed the situation.
Unexpectedly, Senior Lin had also reached out his hand at that moment—grabbing him in the process—so both of them had tumbled down.
Lin Kecheng listened in silence, unable to refute a single word.
Although it had been Xing Shi who ultimately caused his injury, the truth was that he himself had initiated the situation.
Now that both Fu Xiuning and the student union president were aware of what had happened, he couldn’t possibly pin the blame on that fool and make him pay for the medical expenses.
There was no choice but to bear the responsibility himself.
Xing Shi glanced at Lin Kecheng’s injured leg, then turned to him, his expression filled with guilt.
“Senior, I injured your leg. I’ll cover your medical expenses.”
Lin Kecheng quickly waved his hands. “No, no, it’s not your fault—it was all because I was careless!”
Xing Shi still looked guilty. “But if I hadn’t fallen on you, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt this badly.”
Lin Kecheng reassured him, “I was the one who dragged you down.”
The student union president and the others thought, Well, that’s true. It had been an unfortunate accident, but it was hardly fair to expect the kid to pay for it.
As friends, they all stepped in to persuade Xing Shi otherwise, and eventually, he “reluctantly” gave up on the idea.
Obediently, he sat in his chair, listening to their chatter as the president even handed him some fruit.
Meanwhile, the system finally regained its senses.
“Host… Host! Ahhhh!”
Xing Shi interrupted, “Quiet.”
The system immediately lowered its volume and, in a calmer tone, said, “I checked—it’s not a bug. Your favorability really is 2 points!”
Xing Shi asked, “What do you think?”
The system hesitated before answering, “Let’s observe for now. If it doesn’t drop again, it means… he’s figured something out.”
Xing Shi inquired further, “And what else?”
The system was ecstatic. “This score is only going to keep rising!”
It chuckled smugly. “What was the point of all those little systems arriving in this world before me? In the end, they’re all just my lackeys!”
Xing Shi humored it. “Yeah, yeah, you’re amazing.”
The system paid no mind to his perfunctory response and returned to the topic at hand. “I get it now. Lin Kecheng plotted against you, and what you did yesterday was revenge. But since he’s seen your skills, he won’t suspect you, right?”
Xing Shi nodded. “Yeah.”
The system grew uneasy. “But… what if he does?”
Xing Shi remained unfazed. “He has no proof. Even if he somehow realizes that Gu Zheng and his group schemed against me, he still can’t link it to Lin Kecheng with 100% certainty. Besides, he was the one who started this. As long as I’m still useful, he won’t risk turning against me.”
The system thought for a moment, then sighed in relief. “That makes sense.”
—
Lin Kecheng had already suspected something when he was first wheeled into the emergency room.
He doubted that Xing Shi had actually received a call from Fu Xiuning at that moment, so he had his system verify it.
The system ran a check and confirmed that the call was real—there was an actual call log at that time. But as for what was said? That remained a mystery.
Still suspicious, Lin Kecheng asked, “What about the trainees? Did anything unusual happen with them?”
The system did a sweep of the trainee chat groups and reported, “Everything seems normal.”
Lin Kecheng hesitated, but eventually dismissed his doubts, thinking he had been overanalyzing.
—
At this moment, he lay on the hospital bed, keeping up appearances as he conversed with the student union president and others. But internally, he was seething.
His ankle was broken, but that wasn’t his only injury—his back was probably covered in bruises from the fall. After all, he had quite literally been the fool’s human cushion.
And yet, that same fool sat beside him, looking perfectly at ease while munching on the fruit that the president had bought for him. It made his injuries ache even more.
Meanwhile, his surgery hadn’t even been scheduled yet, and there was no telling when he’d be taken into the operating room.
—
Xing Shi, ever the “caring junior,” reassured him, “Don’t worry, senior, I’ll stay with you. If you need water or anything, just call me.”
As he spoke, he popped a grape into his mouth, then grabbed another small bunch and offered it to Fu Xiuning. With his back to the others, he exaggeratedly blinked at him. “Boss, try one. They’re really sweet.”
Fu Xiuning immediately understood his unspoken message. He took the grapes and said, “Come with me. The doctor should check if you have any injuries. Also, the company has an announcement for you. We’ll come back after.”
The student union president and the others looked over, nodding in agreement. “You should get checked out properly. Don’t take it lightly.”
After all, they had seen the bruises on Xing Shi’s arm. They didn’t know what other injuries he might have sustained. Besides, with so many of them here, they could keep Lin Kecheng company just fine.
Xing Shi hesitated, then finally relented and obediently followed Fu Xiuning out.
—
Once they left the inpatient ward, Fu Xiuning asked, “So, are we heading to the emergency room for a check-up?”
Xing Shi shook his head. “No need.”
Fu Xiuning glanced at his bruised arm.
Xing Shi casually explained, “It’s just this one injury. I did it on purpose so I’d have something to show others.”
Fu Xiuning, already accustomed to his antics, simply accepted it. He led him toward the parking lot, then asked in an offhand manner, “You’re quite skilled at this. Have you trained before?”
The system tensed and quickly warned, “Be careful with your answer! He knows about Qi Changyi and your father.”
Xing Shi naturally hadn’t forgotten. He responded nonchalantly, “Nope. It’s just… a kind of mysterious intuition. I just know how to counterattack when someone hits me. Maybe I was born with a unique talent.”
Fu Xiuning processed the response. It was clear that these combat instincts didn’t belong to the “original owner.” But they had to come from somewhere. His previous theory seemed more likely—Xing Shi had likely traveled to another world.
He hummed in acknowledgment, then asked knowingly, “So, why exactly did you do all this today?”
Xing Shi answered bluntly, “Because he tried to trick me.”
He took out his phone and showed Fu Xiuning the chat records from the group.
Fu Xiuning skimmed through the messages. Lin Kecheng’s scheme was incredibly direct—he had clearly intended to mess with Xing Shi before Director Wei’s visit to the company. He had spoken so openly because, in his mind, he was “unaware” of the specifics. Compared to Shao Jianbai, who had spent nearly a month carefully inciting conflict while covering his tracks, Lin Kecheng’s strategy was amateurish.
Following normal logic, Fu Xiuning asked, “So you’re saying he knew Director Wei was specifically looking for you and used this as an opportunity to sabotage you? What reason would he have to do that?”
Xing Shi, dead serious, replied, “He’s probably jealous that I’m more handsome than him and have better debut prospects.”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
He looked at Xing Shi and asked, “Then how did he find out about Director Wei’s plans?”
Xing Shi shrugged. “There are so many people in the group. Maybe someone let it slip. Or maybe he has other sources—I don’t know who told him.”
He maintained his usual calm demeanor. “I just feel like he’s involved. There’s no evidence, just like how you feel like Shao Jianbai was involved in that other incident. Can you understand that, brother?”
Fu Xiuning nodded, effectively ending his line of questioning. “From now on, don’t associate with him.”
Xing Shi obediently agreed. “Okay.”
—
The system had grown a little anxious from Fu Xiuning’s questioning. But now that it was over, it finally relaxed.
However, it couldn’t help but say, “Lin Kecheng saw you two leaving together. If he had his system listen in on your conversation, wouldn’t that be dangerous? You should be more cautious next time.”
Xing Shi dismissed its concerns. “We’ve been together so many times already. If we were going to be exposed, it would’ve happened by now. But we’re still fine. You systems can look up information, but eavesdropping must use up a lot more energy, right?”
The system confirmed, “Yeah.”
They weren’t products of this world, so they had limitations.
When searching for information, they dispersed energy in bursts, using computing power to retrieve data. That process consumed minimal energy. However, continuous surveillance or eavesdropping—especially through devices like phones or security cameras—required prolonged energy consumption, making it much more costly.
Xing Shi mused, “Is there a time limit?”
The system replied, “Half a minute.”
Xing Shi continued, “And how many times can you do it?”
The system explained, “That depends on how much energy each system has. We all start with the same baseline, but since various functions consume energy, we need favorability to recharge. If a host has been in the negative for a full year, they’d only be able to monitor once or twice a month at most. But as favorability increases, we can upgrade, allowing for more frequent and longer monitoring sessions.”
Xing Shi’s eyes gleamed with understanding. “So when you punish a host, search for information, or do other tasks, does each action consume a fixed amount of energy?”
The system replied, “No, it varies. Complexity and the host’s physical state both influence the cost. For example, I think my Level 2 punishment uses more energy than other systems’ versions.”
Xing Shi murmured, “I see.”
Now, he understood why he had been able to siphon off energy undetected—because both systems had assumed it had been drained due to the alliance contract, never considering alternative explanations.
Casually, he asked, “So, does that mean you can only recharge if I allow it?”
The system confirmed, “Yep. I need your permission.”
Xing Shi smirked. “So if I don’t let you recharge… you’ll eventually run out of power and shut down?”
Chapter 24 (3/4)
The system hesitated. “In theory, yes. But the energy we use on standby is minimal—we can last a long time without recharging. Plus, we have a return program that locks in a portion of energy so we can always go back to the main system.”
Then it asked, somewhat nervously, “You’re… not really planning to cut me off, are you?”
Xing Shi smiled. “How could I? You’re so useful—I still need you to look up all sorts of information for me.”
The system puffed up proudly. “Exactly.”
Xing Shi, in a good mood, moved on. “Anyway, about earlier—so what if Lin Kecheng’s system overheard our conversation? It was only thirty seconds. Not a big deal.”
The system grew alarmed. “That’s more than enough time! What if Lin Kecheng turns against you and betrays you?”
Xing Shi shrugged. “Then he does.”
The system was horrified. “Isn’t that a problem?”
Xing Shi drawled, “Yeah~”
He wished all the hosts would come looking for him.
The system didn’t get it. “Do you have a plan? Or something to rely on?”
Xing Shi answered matter-of-factly, “I have Fu Xiuning. He loves me.”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
The system, ever the romantic, found this perfectly reasonable. “You’re right! Maybe the more people target you, the more protective he’ll feel.”
Xing Shi hummed in agreement.
The system urged, “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Xing Shi replied with calm confidence, “With my skills, I’ll be fine.”
—
By the time they left the hospital, it was already dinner time. Fu Xiuning drove them to a restaurant.
It was a place Xing Shi had never been to, but the food was excellent. He realized that every time he ate with Fu Xiuning, it was always somewhere good. Young master really knows how to live well, he thought.
After dinner, as they sat in the car, they discussed their next move.
They both knew the so-called “company notice” was just an excuse.
Now that Xing Shi had successfully left the hospital, there was no way he was going back to babysit Lin Kecheng.
He automatically suggested, “I’ll just head back to the company for training.”
Fu Xiuning gave him a glance. “I already got you the night off. Are you sure?”
Xing Shi immediately backtracked. “Oh, right. I’m injured—I should rest.”
He quickly shifted gears. “Where should we go? How about we visit those little sheep?”
Fu Xiuning said mildly, “Well, since your injury is only on your arm, it shouldn’t interfere with training.”
In the end, they just went home.
—
After showering and changing into pajamas, Xing Shi sat in the living room, casually observing Fu Xiuning.
Fu Xiuning walked out of his room with a bottle of medicine and handed it over.
Xing Shi didn’t even need to look—he knew it was for bruises from falls. He didn’t think much of his injury, but since Fu Xiuning went through the trouble, he applied it anyway.
After washing his hands, he returned to see Fu Xiuning reading a book. The sight suited him.
Curious, Xing Shi walked over and asked, “Bro, what do you do when you’re not working?”
Fu Xiuning replied simply, “Stay.”
Xing Shi: “Oh.”
He plopped down beside him, playing with his phone while pondering today’s events—specifically, those 2 favorability points.
They had appeared after Fu Xiuning took a phone call. Xing Shi asked the system, “Who called him at the hospital?”
The system checked. “His assistant.”
Xing Shi pressed on. “What did they talk about?”
The system accessed security footage but found that the camera angle was blocked. “The assistant handed him some documents. He stayed in the car for a while.”
Xing Shi narrowed his eyes. “What documents?”
The system admitted, “I don’t know. Probably work-related.”
Xing Shi thought for a moment. “Where did the assistant come from?”
The system checked and found no record of the assistant’s car moving. “His car wasn’t started. I can’t track his movements.”
The system was puzzled. “Why are you asking all this?”
Xing Shi had no faith in this love-brained AI, so he decided to test Fu Xiuning directly. “Bro, you were out of the hospital for a long time. What were you doing?”
Two years ago, Fu Xiuning had ordered his assistant to wipe all records daily. The system could only access existing data—it couldn’t restore deleted logs.
Without looking up from his book, Fu Xiuning replied, “Had some work to take care of.”
Xing Shi studied him but still couldn’t figure out where those extra 2 points had come from.
—
To Fu Xiuning, Xing Shi had started as just a trainee under his company. Later, he became the cousin of a close friend. Their interactions were frequent, and the constant fluctuations in his favorability score suggested an internal struggle—Fu Xiuning was clearly drawn to him but reluctant to accept it.
So why had he suddenly invited Xing Shi to live with him?
And why had the score inexplicably risen to 2 points?
Could he really have figured things out and decided to pursue me?
If this were some privileged young master who had led a smooth, carefree life, Xing Shi might believe it.
But this was Fu Xiuning—someone who had spent five years evading the system, witnessing the worst of human nature.
Xing Shi wasn’t convinced.
—
Fu Xiuning sensed Xing Shi’s gaze, closed his book, and met his eyes.
Xing Shi’s hair was still slightly damp, a bit messy. His face was strikingly youthful yet composed—his eyes calm, devoid of any arrogance or impetuousness.
Director He had mentioned that Xing Shi used to be cool and hard to approach, but Fu Xiuning had never seen that side of him.
From the moment they met, Xing Shi had always been this collected.
He had no idea what experiences had shaped him before, but if he were to choose a partner… the person in front of him was undoubtedly the better option.
—
【Didi】
[Current Favorability Value: 3]
Xing Shi: “?”
System: “!”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
—
Xing Shi was silent for a few seconds, processing this new development.
Then he called out, “Tong.”
The system, giddy with excitement, responded in an unusually friendly tone. “Hmm?”
Xing Shi stated, “I have a theory—Fu Xiuning let me live here because he’s attracted to my beauty.”
The system was utterly shocked. “What did you just say?”
Xing Shi had originally expected some form of reassurance, but the system’s reaction made him second-guess himself. “Wait… Am I wrong?”
The system was incredulous. “Is there even a need to question it? Of course it’s true! I told you this ages ago! Have you not been paying attention at all? What exactly have you been thinking about this whole time?”
Xing Shi: “…”
Fu Xiuning: “…”
Xing Shi told the system to shut up. He no longer wanted to stay in the living room.
He casually greeted Fu Xiuning, got up, and returned to his room.
—
The next morning, he arrived at the company early.
Class hadn’t started yet, and Feng Zifan and the others were gathered in the leisure area, chatting.
Xing Shi walked over and asked, “What’s the topic today?”
Feng Zifan glanced up and grinned. “Hot search. The latest company gossip.”
Xing Shi wasn’t surprised. They were all future stars in training—of course, they kept a close eye on the entertainment industry. He asked casually, “Oh? Who’s trending?”
“Yu Shu,” Feng Zifan replied.
Xing Shi paused for a moment before leaning in to check.
Feng Zifan turned his screen toward him and explained, “Some media outlet visited his drama set and did an interview. The director praised his acting in a certain scene. Yu Shu said it was because he had a crush on someone, so he felt really immersed. Naturally, the media jumped on it. But Yu Shu only said that his crush was from our company and didn’t give any names. Now, it’s blown up.”
Someone next to them chimed in, “We’re making bets on who it is. Want in, Brother Shi?”
Xing Shi asked about the stakes and realized they weren’t betting money but rather making absurd, somewhat embarrassing wagers.
Tempted, he asked, “Can I change the bet conditions?”
Feng Zifan chuckled. “Sure. You in?”
Xing Shi thought for a moment and smirked. “It’s boring to bet on the artists. I’ll bet on my boss. If I lose, I’ll stand on my head and call him daddy.”
Everyone suddenly saw the logic.
Their boss looked even more like a top celebrity than actual celebrities—he was definitely a suspect.
Two others followed his lead and placed bets on Fu Xiuning.
Just then, Gu Zheng and his group walked over.
They casually joined the conversation, and when they heard it was a betting game, they joined in as well.
Yu Yi remained silent, while Feng Zifan continued to act natural, pretending to be unaware of any underlying issues. Xing Shi, too, remained unbothered—his demeanor unchanged.
He noticed that Gu Zheng was trying to get close to him, likely regretting his previous actions after realizing that Xing Shi had turned down Director Wei’s invitation. He was probably hoping to mend their relationship.
Xing Shi played along, responding casually. When class time arrived, he simply got up and left.
Feng Zifan and the others followed, leaving only Gu Zheng and his roommate behind.
—
As they lagged behind the group, Gu Zheng frowned. “I feel like Yu Yi is deliberately ignoring us.”
His roommate reassured him, “That’s just how he is with people he’s not close to. Don’t overthink it. Besides, they have no proof that we did anything on purpose. It was an accident. You’re still on the list—what’s there to be afraid of?”
Gu Zheng nodded, but his frown didn’t ease.
His roommate continued to console him, “You were selected based on merit. Even if the boss favors Xing Shi, business is business. Besides, there’s no solid evidence against us.”
Gu Zheng grunted in agreement, then turned to his roommate and said sincerely, “I owe you one. If I debut, I’ll make sure to help you out when I get the chance.”
His roommate smiled. “No need to be polite. Just focus on debuting first. Once you’re famous, you won’t have to worry about Xing Shi anymore.”
—
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
The list of selected trainees remained unchanged.
Those who were about to debut naturally received more attention, and people were unusually polite to them.
Gu Zheng, believing that everything was settled, became more grounded and composed.
Finally, the day before their entry into the competition, the training department organized a farewell event.
At the front of the room, the person in charge smiled as he began reading out the final list of names.
Each name was met with applause.
“Nie Cheng.”
A round of enthusiastic clapping followed.
Gu Zheng knew his name would be next. He straightened his posture and smiled confidently.
However, the next name announced was—
“Tong Xuyang.”
The room fell silent.
Gu Zheng’s expression froze.
Applause rang out again—but it was interrupted halfway.
People exchanged glances, suddenly realizing something was wrong.
Feng Zifan and Yu Yi, who had been unsure of what exactly the boss had planned, had kept their questions to themselves all week. They didn’t want to jinx anything.
But now, hearing the final list, they finally understood.
Feng Zifan was momentarily stunned. Then, a tingling excitement spread through him.
He whispered, “Holy shit. That’s a big move.”
Xing Shi turned back to give him an innocent look—as if to say, This wasn’t my doing.
A heavy silence filled the room.
The person in charge made no corrections.
Slowly, everyone turned their gaze toward Gu Zheng.
Gu Zheng stood there, frozen, his expression utterly blank.
