Seeing Lei Zhengyang's wry smile, Li Bingbing smirked triumphantly. "Ha, nailed it, didn't I? No shame in chasing Ziye. Last time, a guy stood outside our dorm with flowers for three days and nights, nearly starving himself. Compared to that, you're downright classy."
"Ice, stop it, or I'll get mad!" Xiao Ziye flushed, exasperated by her friend's loose tongue. At school, Bingbing had shielded her from plenty of trouble, so real anger was out of the question.
"Fine, fine, I'll zip it," Bingbing teased, undeterred. "But Ziye, you used to scoff at guys like this. What's with the vibe? Got a crush, huh?"
Ziye, mortified, raised a hand to tickle Bingbing in retaliation. She barely knew this guy—how could she have feelings for him?
Watching the girls' youthful exuberance, Lei Zhengyang felt a pang of envy. Though only a few years older, his heart carried the weight of weathered experience, a stark contrast to their carefree spirit.
"Sitting across from two lovely ladies is quite the honor," he said with a grin. "Let's start over. I'm Lei Zhengyang. For the record, I'm not a student from any Tianhai school—just passing through. Sorry for the mix-up."
Xiao Ziye reached out, her hand brushing his briefly before pulling back, her cheeks crimson. "I'm Xiao Ziye. Nice to meet you."
"Ahem, I'm Li Bingbing," her friend chimed in. "Not the celebrity, but way cuter. My bad for the mistake—sorry about that, handsome. Where're you from? Got a girlfriend? Want me to hook you up? Trust me, my sisters are drop-dead gorgeous. You won't be disappointed."
Bingbing's boldness outshone Ziye's reserve. She gripped Lei Zhengyang's hand firmly, her eyes sparkling. From the moment she'd seen him, she'd been smitten—a touch of fangirl fever, perhaps, but at their age, hearts fluttered easily, moods shifting like the wind.
Lei Zhengyang chuckled. "Thanks for the offer. If I ever strike out, I'll hit you up."
Ziye quickly clarified, "Don't mind her—she's a joker. Are you from Beijing?"
He nodded, and Bingbing sighed. "Ugh, we're from Jincheng. Gotta get off early—can't ride with you."
"No big deal," Lei Zhengyang said. "Fate brings us together across miles. Maybe next time I'm in Jincheng, we'll cross paths again."
"Exactly!" Bingbing clapped. "It's fate! Thousands on this train, and we're face-to-face. Quick, swap numbers. When you're in Jincheng, you have to call us. Ziye's a big deal there."
Bingbing's unguarded chatter betrayed her lack of guile, her flushed excitement infectious. Lei Zhengyang sensed Xiao Ziye's background wasn't ordinary. Jincheng's Xiao family came to mind, but he dismissed the thought. Surely not every Xiao in Jincheng was tied to that clan.
He recalled Xiao Malu—real name Xiao Dasheng, nicknamed for the Monkey King's cunning. Among their old crew, Malu was the slipperiest. Lei Zhengyang considered asking but held back. Jincheng had countless Xiaos—no way this was that connected.
A voice crackled over the intercom: "Attention, passengers. Per orders, we're conducting a ticket check. Please cooperate with the train police by presenting your ticket and ID. We apologize for the inconvenience and appreciate your understanding."
"What's this? A random ticket check? Such a hassle," Bingbing grumbled.
Ziye smiled. "We're not dodging fares, so let them check. Maybe they're hunting a dangerous fugitive with this method. Cooperating is our duty as passengers, Ice. Stop complaining."
Lei Zhengyang gave Ziye a subtle nod of approval. Beyond her stunning looks, her kind heart shone through. Standing, she revealed a graceful, well-proportioned figure—porcelain skin, alluring curves, a vision of youthful perfection. Her calm, unpretentious demeanor only added to her charm. Even Lei Zhengyang felt a flicker of admiration, though the old him might've pursued her relentlessly. Now, he was a different man.
"Passengers, we're beginning the ticket check. Please present your ticket and ID. Thank you for your cooperation." Three train police entered—two men, one woman.
The male officers were tall, their faces stern and unyielding. The woman, a striking figure in her thirties, exuded allure. Her exaggerated curves, tightly wrapped in her uniform, drew every eye in the carriage—over a hundred gazes locked on her.
"Wow, that lady's intense," Bingbing whispered, eyeing the officer's chest, then Ziye's. "Ziye, she's got you beat."
Ziye blushed, shooting her friend a glare. Bingbing raised her hands. "Okay, okay, I'll shut up! Lei Zhengyang, you didn't hear that, and don't you dare think weird thoughts, got it?"
Lei Zhengyang stifled a laugh, glancing at the female officer. "She is quite the show."
The male officers split the work, one checking each side, while the woman stood between them, offering polite nods and "thank yous." Her charm smoothed the process, making compliance effortless.
"Sir, your ticket," the female officer said, her voice sweet and magnetic as she handed Lei Zhengyang's ticket back.
He reached out—not for the ticket. In a flash, his hand shot forward, seizing the male officer behind her. Lei Zhengyang's grip clamped around the man's throat, slamming him onto the table between the seats. With a faint crack, the officer slumped, unconscious.
In the man's hand gleamed a razor-sharp dagger. This was no officer—a killer.
The girls screamed, terror-stricken.
The second male officer reacted, drawing not a knife but a gun, aiming at Lei Zhengyang. Lei flung the unconscious assassin forward, using him as a shield. Three shots tore into the body, sending it to the underworld in silence. Lei Zhengyang closed the gap, his stolen dagger slicing the gunman's wrist.
The gun clattered to the floor, but the officer's left hand produced another blade, now pressed to the female officer's throat.
"No, don't kill me! Sir, save me!" she pleaded, her voice trembling, her beauty pitifully vulnerable.
A man cowering nearby, driven by a hero's impulse, lunged at the fake officer. Caught off guard by the reckless charge, the killer slashed, carving the man's stomach. Then, with a vicious kick, he sent the female officer hurtling toward Lei Zhengyang and bolted.
Lei Zhengyang didn't move, catching the woman as she stumbled into his arms. Envious onlookers sighed—what luck, embracing such a stunning beauty.
But no one expected what came next. The woman sprang back, her retreat faster than her fall, defying belief for someone so curvaceous. In that split second, Lei Zhengyang's dagger vanished from his hand—only to reappear, buried in one of her voluptuous "assets."
Amid the crowd's shock, Lei Zhengyang sneered. "I love beautiful women, but I've got no taste for impostors."
The "woman" laughed, her sweet voice morphing into a chilling, masculine rasp. "Worthy of the Lei Third Young Master, seeing through my Thousand Illusions. Pity—someone paid a billion for your head, and I'm claiming it." As "she" spoke, the dagger was yanked free, revealing a papaya tumbling from the fake chest.
"Holy crap, it's a fake!" Bingbing, peeking out, cursed under her breath. "I knew those couldn't be real. Thought she got a foreign boob job—turns out it's just a damn papaya!" The deception had briefly dented her confidence.
Gunshots rang out. Lei family guards, trailing close, fired, dropping the fleeing fake officer. They closed in on the disguised assassin, weapons drawn.