Chapter 54: A Touch of Mischief

Qin Youyou was utterly shocked. How had Lan Weimin seen through her identity after only a brief encounter? It was as if he had read the doubt in her heart, for Lan Weimin explained in a low voice, “Awei never dares to look me in the eye.”

Qin Youyou’s mouth twitched slightly. Had her attempt at cleverness backfired? When she’d chosen to meet his gaze, she’d thought that only by showing no guilt could she continue her disguise. Who would have imagined this was the very flaw that exposed her?

There was no point in continuing to stubbornly deny it. Gnashing her teeth, Qin Youyou steeled herself, ready to retort in her true voice: I am not Awei—what do you intend to do about it?

“I was only joking,” Lan Weimin suddenly said, his tone shifting. “You’ve been by my side for almost twenty years—how could I possibly mistake you? From now on, even if the King of Heaven himself appears, you are still Awei!”

The turn in his words nearly made Qin Youyou lose her balance. Confusion swirled in her heart.

But Lan Weimin offered no further explanation. Instead, his tone became sincere: “Awei, you’ll oversee things here today. If you need anything, just say the word.”

The implication was clear: today, she was the head of the Lan family.

Qin Youyou was utterly bewildered. It was as though a housekeeper had been sent to a tycoon’s mansion for work, only for the boss to hand over the entire estate and company, leaving the housekeeper dumbstruck.

Even after Lan Weimin left the study, Qin Youyou remained in a daze. After a long silence, she finally began to understand. Perhaps because of her brother—out of duty, fear, or something else—Lan Weimin had chosen to turn a blind eye, deliberately calling a stag a horse and letting her, the impostor, take the seat of power.

“You can always trust Brother Chuan!” That phrase from Qin Chuan surfaced in her memory, bringing tears to her eyes.

In truth, Lan Weimin had refrained from exposing the impostor because not long before, Qin Chuan had sent him a five-word message: “Protect Awei at all costs.”

As Lan Weimin’s trusted bodyguard captain, Awei should never need such protection. Lan Weimin quickly realized the gravity of the situation. Since Qin Chuan had subtly hinted at an issue with Awei while almost commanding him to protect “Awei,” there could be only one conclusion: the person before him must not be exposed, and their relationship with Qin Chuan was anything but ordinary.

After considering this, Lan Weimin decided it no longer mattered who this impostor really was.

In fact, to investigate Awei’s true identity without Qin Chuan’s permission would be asking for trouble. With a strong survival instinct, Lan Weimin, having tested his suspicions, chose not to probe further.

“It seems Master Chuan trusts me most,” Lan Weimin thought happily, feeling just as elated as when Qin Chuan had once saved his life from the brink of death. “Since that’s the case, I’ll do my utmost to play my part well.” Clenching his fists, he made his decision.

Elsewhere, Qin Chuan was thoroughly enjoying his days at school, savoring the purity of academia. The subject assigned to Qin Youyou was pharmacology, under the pharmaceutical engineering department. For someone of Qin Chuan’s medical prowess, teaching this was a breeze.

Unlike Qin Youyou’s rigorous, logical teaching style, Qin Chuan was lively and humorous. He explained pharmacological concepts with vivid, accessible language, often painting colorful pictures that had the entire class of hundreds roaring with laughter.

“Who would have thought Professor Qin could be so funny? She’s a real treasure!”
“I prefer Professor Qin’s rebellious side.”
“Nonsense, her poised and intellectual demeanor is far more beautiful.”
“Are you all children? Why should adults have to choose?”

During the break, students whispered animatedly, but the consensus was clear: Qin Youyou’s newfound humor had made her even more dazzling.

Throughout the two-hour professional course, not a single student found it dull; in fact, they felt it ended too soon.

“Did you enjoy the new teaching method I’ve been working on for half a year?” Qin Chuan suddenly asked before class ended.

Nearly three hundred students answered in unison, “We loved it!”

The chorus of cheers only died down after Qin Chuan repeatedly signaled for quiet.

“Since you all like it so much, I won’t use this style anymore. See you next class!” With that, Qin Chuan turned and left, vanishing before the students could react.

“Professor Qin, did you enjoy playing that prank at the end?”
“Professor Qin, tell us you were just kidding.”
“I love you, Professor Qin!”

Qin Chuan, blessed with keen hearing, caught every word from the lecture hall behind him.

“Youyou, my dear sister, this is as much as I can do for you. I hope you can handle the next lesson.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. He had meticulously studied every detail about Qin Youyou—her teaching style, routines, even subtle gestures. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared take such a risk himself.

After leaving the lecture hall, Qin Chuan returned to the office for his belongings, then, following Qin Youyou’s usual habits, headed to the library to read.

He continued reading until dinnertime, then had a simple bowl of porridge in the school cafeteria, buying exactly the same portion of her favorite dessert as usual.

This meticulous imitation left the kidnappers monitoring him with not the slightest suspicion. The observer reported back, and the black-robed leader issued the final order: they would strike that night.

After dinner, Qin Chuan again followed Qin Youyou’s routine, staying in the library until ten, then walking back to the rented apartment near campus with his bag.

He could keenly sense he was being followed, which gave him some relief; after all this effort, the kidnappers had finally taken the bait.

Feigning ignorance, Qin Chuan walked the usual route back to the apartment. Moonlight and neon lights bathed the city in a riot of colors and restless energy. Yet, the nearby alley was a rare haven of peace, its gentle amber lamps making the night’s walk all the more pleasant—one reason Qin Youyou always took this path.

As soon as he reached the alley’s edge, he sensed more than a dozen people lying in wait. Judging by the rhythm of their breathing, three of them were nearly as skilled as Old Xue, and the strongest was on par with Zhu Xiaofeng.

“What a grand setup,” Qin Chuan thought with a cold laugh. To kidnap a defenseless Qin Youyou, they’d mobilized so many experts. Clearly, the mastermind would accept no mistakes, which also meant the Lan family was now involved.

Despite his racing thoughts, Qin Chuan’s pace never faltered. He knew that any hint of hesitation would instantly alert the top fighter.

When he reached the middle of the alley, the amber streetlights on both sides suddenly went dark, and several shadows blocked his way forward and back.

“Ah!” he cried, skillfully mimicking a normal person’s reaction to a sudden mugging, even making his voice shrill—perfectly in keeping with Qin Youyou’s persona.

“Who... who are you?” he asked, forcing his voice to tremble as he backed toward the wall.

The lead figure said nothing, only gestured to his subordinates. Several black-robed men swarmed forward, and Qin Chuan felt a sharp blow to the back of his neck.

With practiced grace, he collapsed, only to be caught before he hit the ground and whisked away at a sprinter’s pace.

Qin Chuan was finally tossed into the trunk of a van, and throughout the process, not one of the kidnappers said a word.

“These bastards are thorough—you can’t even eavesdrop on anything useful,” he thought ruefully, though it only fueled his determination to unearth the true mastermind behind such a disciplined, organized group.

After about forty minutes, Qin Chuan heard a chilling voice: “Take a few pictures of her and send them to Qin Chuan. If there’s no response in ten minutes, take another photo with yourself on top of her, and keep doing it—escalate until you get one where you’re ‘getting intimate.’”

Upon hearing those words, Qin Chuan felt a certain part of himself tense up, and in his mind, the chorus of “Chrysanthemum Terrace” drifted faintly by...