Chapter 11: You’re Actually Very Smart

Zhao Changfeng always felt that people didn’t change without a reason. Jiang Ruotang suddenly being so friendly… if one day he suddenly went back to how he was before—that would be truly disappointing.

Wait a minute. Could it be that he’s waiting until Mom and Uncle Jiang get together, and then he’ll start tormenting the two of them again?

…He couldn’t be that twisted, right?

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang sat at his desk, carefully analyzing why he had been so resistant to Zhao Yunshu in his previous life.

Was it really just because Zhao Yunshu came from a finance background and was highly competent at work, so he suspected her of coveting his father’s shares in the company? That was such a senseless thought.

Jiang Ruotang closed his eyes, stripping away the less important memories and slowly retracing those involving Zhao Yunshu.

The origin of it all should’ve been when Zhao Yunshu worked for a long time in the finance department of Jiang Huaiyuan’s film company. The upper management thought she was very capable, honest, and diligent, and they considered promoting her to deputy finance manager.

After that, Lin Lu began to stir the pot, implying Zhao Yunshu was ambitious, trying to control the company’s finances, and was dating Jiang Huaiyuan just to climb the ladder…

The more Jiang Ruotang listened back then, the angrier he became. It was easy for Lin Lu to manipulate his emotions.

Especially with that line: “Ruotang, I’m just telling you this for your own good.” Now that he thought about it, it made his skin crawl.

Wasn’t that the classic green tea line? Like: “I just feel bad for my brother.”

But the strange thing was, Lin Lu was just a teenager going to school every day. How could she care about company operations and personnel issues?

There was only one possibility: her father, Lin Chengdong, told her.

Lin Chengdong was a major shareholder in Huanyu Films. In the last life, he was also the one who took over Jiang Huaiyuan’s shares…

The more he thought, the more disturbed Jiang Ruotang felt. He had called Lin Chengdong “Uncle” for eighteen years, and his father also deeply trusted the man. And that film suspected of money laundering? There was no way his father took it on just because of his own pleading. It seemed more likely that Lin Chengdong had come to the house and discussed it with Jiang Huaiyuan in the study before his father accepted it.

The more he thought about it, the more furrowed Jiang Ruotang’s brow became.

If his past resentment toward Zhao Yunshu resembled a cliché family drama, then his current suspicion toward Lin Chengdong was starting to feel like a full-blown corporate thriller.

At that moment, Jiang Huaiyuan knocked on the door and entered.

One look at that smile and Jiang Ruotang could tell today’s date had gone well.

After a few pleasantries, Jiang Ruotang got straight to the point and asked about the film company.

“Who’s the chief financial officer of Huanyu Films?”

Jiang Huaiyuan looked surprised—his son had never shown any interest in the company’s business before. “Why are you asking about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I ask? Aunt Zhao still hasn’t been promoted to deputy CFO, has she?”

“Even if I tell you, you wouldn’t know them,” Jiang Huaiyuan said with a chuckle.

Jiang Ruotang was speechless. If you don’t tell me, how would I ever know?

Lin Chengdong had already groomed Lin Lu into a strategic weapon, and his dad still wanted to keep him safe inside an ivory tower. The tower’s roof had been blown off, and he still thought holding an umbrella would keep the rain out?

“I just want to know—does the CFO have any connection to Uncle Lin?”

“Connection? Those two… I think they were college classmates. Uncle Lin’s the one who brought him into the company. He’s very capable.”

As soon as he heard that, Jiang Ruotang’s mind began racing.

Zhao Yunshu probably hadn’t been promoted to deputy CFO because Lin Chengdong didn’t want her anywhere near the company’s core financial records. There might be something shady going on. Otherwise, with Zhao Yunshu’s experience, education, and work performance—plus her current close relationship with Jiang Huaiyuan—there would be no reason for HR or the board to oppose her promotion.

The only explanation was that someone feared Zhao Yunshu would discover financial issues and report them to Jiang Huaiyuan.

Once he realized this, it felt terrifying. His father, a man who just wanted to make good films and had no political instinct, probably never saw it coming. Or maybe he did but ignored it because of so-called “brotherhood.”

In his past life, when Jiang Ruotang had cancer, he did suspect something, but he lacked the evidence. By then, Huanyu was already in Lin Chengdong’s hands, and it was too late to do anything.

But in this life, he was determined to find out the truth.

“Dad, the finance department has to handle a lot of reimbursements, right? So they probably have more social events. If Aunt Zhao becomes deputy CFO, she’ll be very busy and stressed. How about transferring her to the audit department instead? There she’d just need to focus on checking accounts. The work wouldn’t be as urgent, and she wouldn’t have to work overtime so much. Plus, the head of that department is Grandpa Qin—he likes people with Aunt Zhao’s temperament.”

“Hmm, you make a good point. I’ll ask Yunshu what she thinks first, then talk to Uncle Qin! Son, you’re really smart—this is like finding a bright path through dark woods!”

Jiang Ruotang smiled. After his father left, he clicked his pen repeatedly and stared blankly at the exam paper in front of him.

Lin Chengdong… how did he manage to drag Dad down while walking away squeaky clean? Maybe Zhao Yunshu really did need to take over the audit department so they could go through the accounts from the past few years and find the truth.

It was past ten. Jiang Ruotang glanced at his phone—sure enough, Lin Lu had messaged him.

[Why are you being so cold to Bai Yingchuan? Did you see that gossip about him dating another girl and get upset? I know you’re his one true fan. That entertainment news is fake—she’s just riding his popularity. Don’t take it seriously, okay?]

Oh boy. He used to be too dumb to see through this, but now it was so obvious.

First she labeled him a “one true fan,” implying he obsessed over Bai Yingchuan’s private life and would react negatively to any dating rumors—fans like that were the type Bai Yingchuan hated the most. Then once he replied, Lin Lu could show the messages to Bai Yingchuan.

He guessed in his last life, Bai Yingchuan’s dislike for him had a lot to do with Lin Lu’s schemes.

Jiang Ruotang calmly replied:

[I’m not being cold. He’s our classmate now—whether he dates someone or picks a role, it’s his personal choice. I wouldn’t interfere. And I was genuinely busy yesterday. Maybe you’re just being too sensitive?]

He stared at the chat window. Lin Lu was typing, but no message came through.

Looks like he didn’t fall into her usual trap—complaining about some girl leeching off Bai Yingchuan’s fame—so now she didn’t know how to respond.

He didn’t feel like watching her continue the act. Instead, Jiang Ruotang snapped a photo of the half-finished problem he was working on and found Lu Guifan’s profile in the class group chat.

At this point, Lu Guifan still used the default profile picture, and their only chat history was a generic holiday message from two years ago.

They’d had almost zero interaction for two years.

Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath and typed: “You there?”

The moment he hit send, he regretted it.

This was like two people on a blind date trying to awkwardly start a conversation.

And the other person… was his class monitor.

Jiang Ruotang, are you out of your damn mind?

He considered deleting it.

But then a reply popped up: “What do you need?”

Thank God Lu Guifan didn’t respond with a blunt “Dead?”—that would’ve been mortifying.

Jiang Ruotang clutched his phone and let out a breath like he was about to face the principal. He was mentally twenty-eight years old and still this nervous sending a message to the class monitor?

[There’s this one tough problem I can’t solve. I’ve been staring at it forever. Couldn’t help but message you.]

After sending it, he scratched his head. Was this midnight harassment?

But at this hour, Lu Guifan probably wasn’t asleep yet.

[Send it over.]

His reply was short, so short Jiang Ruotang could read it ten times in a second.

He sent the photo over and stared at his screen. After a while, a voice message came in.

[Next time, before solving a problem, think about what concept it’s testing. From the way you approached it, your reasoning was off…]

The moment he heard Lu Guifan’s voice through the phone—across lifetimes—Jiang Ruotang’s heart started racing. He felt like he was running full-speed, desperately trying to catch up to Lu Guifan’s silhouette.

The message ended. Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath, wiped his damp eyes, and played it again carefully.

Lu Guifan’s voice was calm and restrained, with clear logic. He wasn’t just giving answers—he was teaching him how to think.

Jiang Ruotang kept replaying the audio and unknowingly solved the problem. Excited, he took a photo of his solution and sent it over.

But it was already 11:10 p.m.

Lu Guifan was a fast test-taker. He might already be asleep.

To his surprise, the voice reply came almost immediately.

[Your method is correct, but starting from the fourth line from the bottom, you made a calculation error. In a real test, losing points over something like this would be a shame.]

“What?” Jiang Ruotang stared wide-eyed. “I really miscalculated…”

But how did Lu Guifan reply so fast? He couldn’t possibly be staring at his phone waiting, right?

Jiang Ruotang quickly corrected the mistake and sent it again.

“Tsk tsk tsk… this feels just like sending a love letter online and waiting for a reply. It’s killing me.”

Just then, Lu Guifan replied:

[Correct. You’re actually very smart.]

Such a short sentence. So neutral that it didn’t even sound encouraging. But to Jiang Ruotang, he felt like a rabbit who wanted to jump and dance in the woods.

He seized the moment and asked:

[I want to apply to the Capital Fine Arts Academy. Do you think I can still catch up on the academic subjects if I work hard from now?]

Lu Guifan:
[If you don’t give up, there’s still hope.]

Jiang Ruotang:
[If I come across questions I can’t solve, can I ask you?]

Lu Guifan:
[Yeah.]

Seeing that simple “Yeah,” Jiang Ruotang felt happier than if he’d aced the college entrance exam.

Not just because he found an excuse to get closer to Lu Guifan, but because he knew Lu Guifan wasn’t lying. In the last life, he had said the same: As long as you really want to learn, I’ll teach you everything I know.

He was so happy, he decided to tackle another big problem to celebrate.

He flipped the practice test over…

And was immediately crushed by reality.

This one… he didn’t even understand the question.