Villain: Without morals, you can’t be manipulated!

Chapter 8 A good impression or a bad impression—aren’t they both still impressions?

“Xueyao-jie, you treat me as your younger brother, but are you perhaps eyeing a share of my family’s inheritance?”

This statement, undeniably venomous, essentially accused Qi Xueyao of harboring ulterior motives for staying at Qi Lin’s home.

The truth was, at this stage, Qi Xueyao had just graduated and was still quite innocent. She wasn’t thinking about such things, nor did she have any intention of coveting Qi Lin’s family wealth.

Her eventual dark turn was a product of her experiences in society and the hardships she faced.

“Qi Lin, you’re going too far! When Uncle and Aunt return, I’m going to tell them everything you just said!”

Qi Xueyao was so upset she couldn’t eat anymore. Her chest heaved with anger as she glared at Qi Lin, her face flushed with a mix of shame and fury.

“Sure, go ahead. Tell whoever you want. I won’t stop you,” Qi Lin replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, but my parents probably won’t be back until the weekend. Wouldn’t it be a bit late by then?”

“Here, let me help. I’ll give you my phone. You can call them right now.”

“Just a heads-up, though—if you tell my dad, he might not react the way you expect. Instead of scolding me, he might actually praise me for maturing and no longer being the foolish rich boy.”

He handed her his phone with a smirk, his words so provocative that Qi Xueyao’s ears turned red with anger. She now realized that this foolish rich boy wasn’t just a good-for-nothing—he was also an incorrigible rogue.

“I know you look down on spoiled rich kids like me, but that’s fine. I don’t mind. After all, I think highly of you. What can I say? You’re my Xueyao-jie and quite the beautiful woman at that.”

Qi Lin’s gaze roved over her figure, taking in her tailored Chanel-style suit and sheer stockings.

“Qi Lin, you’re disgusting!”

Qi Xueyao couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyes reddened with unshed tears as she shouted at him before storming off to her room, likely to cry in private.

“Ha…”

Watching the scene unfold, Qi Lin let out a cold chuckle. There was no sense of triumph in his expression.

Angering Qi Xueyao was merely an appetizer—a harmless prelude to the real drama that lay ahead.

“Xiao Lin, Aunt Chen can see that you care about Xueyao. So why…”

At some point, Aunt Chen had quietly approached him, her voice tinged with concern. Qi Lin knew what she wanted to say. His behavior had indeed been over the line—any girl would find it hard to forgive.

“Aunt Chen, if you want a girl to remember you, you have to leave an impression. Whether it’s a good impression or a bad one, isn’t it all just an impression in the end?”

Qi Lin smiled faintly, his words carrying a cynical wisdom. To an outsider, such sentiments might sound outrageous, but Aunt Chen had watched Qi Lin grow up. She would inevitably side with him in the end.

“Aunt Chen just hopes you two kids can end up together.”

Though she treated Qi Lin like her own son, Aunt Chen had no intention of meddling in his affairs. Smiling kindly, she gathered the dishes and left.

After finishing his meal, Qi Lin ascended the familiar spiral staircase to his room. On the way, he couldn’t help but linger, running his hands over the banisters, walls, paintings, and the greenery around him.

In his previous life, this villa—his home for over two decades—was seized by the court in the final month before his family’s bankruptcy. At that time, Qi Lin had been utterly despondent, wandering through life in a daze.

Now, back in his familiar sanctuary, he was overwhelmed with nostalgia, barely able to hold back tears.

______

[Friday, September 28, 2002.]

Lying on the soft bed, Qi Lin opened Lan Yuxi’s diary. To succeed in his plans, he needed to uncover her deepest secrets.

[Today is the 27th, so this is her entry for tomorrow…] [Perfect. If I can learn her secrets, I can plan ahead.]

Smirking, Qi Lin began to read.

[After morning reading class, I went to the office to hand in my homework. It seemed all the teachers were in a meeting because the office was empty. I placed my homework on the desk and was about to leave when I noticed something—a reference sheet. Oh my god, it was the answer key to the upcoming grade-level exam!

It must have been left out in haste when the teacher was called to the meeting. My first instinct was to leave, but my heart started pounding. Thump, thump, thump.

I’ve been working so hard lately, but my exam rankings still haven’t improved. I can’t crack the top ten. I’m the class monitor. I can’t let everyone look down on me, can I? Just this once. I promise, just this once.

If I don’t take the sheet but just copy the answers onto paper, the teacher will never know.

…

The exam is finally over, but I can’t leave yet. I need to wait until everyone’s gone before I tear up the answers and flush them down the toilet. That way, no one will ever know I cheated.]

The diary entry ended there.