“What brings you here, Young Master?”

Feigning ignorance of the sarcasm lacing her words, Jiang Peizhi strode over and sat directly opposite Shen Ruoyu. He snatched her teacup and drained the remaining warm liquid in one gulp. 

“I'm exhausted! I came all this way to see you, and you're not even grateful. And tell your brother to watch where he's going! He practically ran into me without even looking up. So rude.”

“And barging into someone's room like this is polite?”

Shen Ruoyu found Jiang Peizhi tiresome. His family’s status wasn't particularly prominent, but they were the wealthiest in the capital. Old Master Jiang, having his son late in life, doted on him excessively, spoiling him rotten.

Jiang Peizhi had a terrible reputation. A master of all things pleasure-seeking, he was a notorious playboy—a profligate young man—in the capital. He was particularly condescending, earning him much ridicule behind his back. Most whispered that he was a good-for-nothing, living off his wealthy father.

Yet, this same man, simply because he'd lost a childhood brawl to Shen Ruoyu, had become her devoted follower, constantly seeking her out. Having learned from her past experience with Rong Yan, Shen Ruoyu now questioned the purity of Jiang Peizhi's motives.

“Yuyu, what are you thinking about? Didn't you notice the injuries on my face?” Jiang Peizhi slammed his teacup down, hoping to draw Shen Ruoyu’s attention.

Shen Ruoyu nodded. “I noticed. Who did you fight?” Jiang Peizhi, the playboy, valued his handsome face above all else. Bruised and battered as it was, she had naturally seen it.

She didn't ask for an explanation because she already knew. Countless rebirths hadn't been in vain. This young master had gotten into a brawl with Lu Zhixing over some trivial matter, the exact details of which remained unclear to Shen Ruoyu even now.

Mentioning the fight opened the floodgates for Jiang Peizhi. “Hmph, do you know that scoundrel Lu Zhixing? He was in a foul mood and just had to pick a fight with me. You wouldn't believe how infuriatingly aggressive he was. I couldn't help it; I had to fight back.”

Shen Ruoyu asked, “So you lost?”

“What are you talking about?! Could I possibly lose to him? I beat him to a pulp…”

Shen Ruoyu remained silent, choosing to spare him some face. Only Young Master Jiang, bruised and swollen, could utter such boasts. He had always been frail, incapable of any real physical exertion. How could he possibly defeat Lu Zhixing, who hailed from a prestigious military family?

This brought Shen Ruoyu to a lingering question, ‘How did you offend Lu Zhixing? Why did he insist on fighting you?’

She had constantly heard him complain about Lu Zhixing picking fights, but she had never managed to extract the reason from him.

Jiang Peizhi, who usually couldn't keep a secret, was suddenly tight-lipped about this particular matter, fueling Shen Ruoyu’s curiosity.

“Oh, forget it. I let him off the hook. I won't hold a grudge against that brute.” 

The topic clearly made him uncomfortable, and he quickly changed the subject. Leaning in conspiratorially, he said, “Yuyu, I didn't come here to talk about this. I heard Tianxi Pavilion is auctioning off some young man today. Want to go with me?”

Shen Ruoyu frowned. “Are you… also into men?”

Tianxi Pavilion was a pleasure house, filled with handsome young men selling their bodies or their talents. In the open-minded capital, Tianxi Pavilion operated freely, catering to both men and women with coin to spare. Shen Ruoyu was only now discovering her friend Jiang Peizhi’s apparent inclinations.

“Nonsense! Don’t put any labels on me! I heard Lu Zhixing is going to be there, and I plan to annoy him. Want to join me?”

He truly was her friend, never thinking of her for good things, but remembering her first for this kind of mischief.

In the past, Shen Ruoyu would have refused without hesitation. But now, she shared Jiang Peizhi’s objective.

“What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing.”

Lu Zhixing was rebellious and never hid his preferences. Rumors even suggested he was repulsed by women, surrounding himself exclusively with men.

Shen Ruoyu never doubted the truth of these rumors. She had once accidentally brushed against Lu Zhixing’s hand, and the look of disgust he gave her remained etched in her memory.

Lu Zhixing had frantically scrubbed his hand with a handkerchief, even after it had become raw and bleeding. He had muttered, “Get away! Are you blind? Filthy! Disgusting…”

At the time, Shen Ruoyu had been bewildered. Now, however, it all made sense. Was this, perhaps, his “setting”?