A Fine Eye

Seeing Ju Jinghuan standing in front of her seat, quite a few girls who had been itching to approach let out disappointed sighs—they had wanted to invite him too. Although Ju Jinghuan wasn't as dazzling as the F4, he came from a good family, was handsome and gentle, and even if he turned you down, he'd do it kindly. Many girls in his own class and neighboring ones harbored feelings for him.

But seeing him like this, everyone understood—he'd set his sights on the transfer student.

"She's so lucky. She's close to the F4 and now Ju Jinghuan is inviting her. Being pretty really pays off."

"I could tell at first glance that she'd be the type guys like—soft and delicate, with that slightly aloof air. Just like the second female lead in a drama."

"Well, there you go. And here I was worrying that she'd be embarrassed if White didn't pick her. Instead, Ju Jinghuan goes and invites her himself."

The murmured comments drifted to the people involved. Ju Jinghuan's face flushed even deeper. His light brown, clear eyes fixed on Fu Liangxia, his smile warm, so perfectly measured that it was impossible to feel any aversion.

Noticing Fu Liangxia's daze, he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, his voice gentle: "Take your time to think it over. If you agree, we can go wherever you'd like, Fu."

Ju Jinghuan blinked, his long lashes fluttering, looking like a docile, harmless lop-eared rabbit—somehow endearing.

Behind her came a scoff, seemingly from the nose.

At that angle, it could only be Su Xingshu.

Fu Liangxia ignored him and curved her lips. "That sounds pretty good."

Beside her, Bai Xin spoke up unexpectedly, slowly: "A seaside is a great place for painting. And watching the sunrise from a mountaintop can spark inspiration too."

Bai Yan caught on instantly and added, "Didn't you say you could do it during school hours? Perfect—come camping with us, be our model, and earn some extra money on the side."

Ju Jinghuan frowned slightly. "Working while on a trip? Are you two capitalists?"

Bai Xin leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

Everyone here was a capitalist in some way; asking that was just silly.

Bai Xin—or rather, Little A—let his gaze drift to the pair standing and sitting beside him. The boy was warm and bright, the girl pretty and fresh-faced. They looked like a perfect campus couple. But for some reason, the sight grated on him.

He knew of Ju Jinghuan—he was from their circle. The consumer goods industry might seem mundane, but the profits hidden beneath it were nothing to sneeze at. Still, if this was all it took to try and steal her away from them, it wasn't enough.

Fu Liangxia was still talking with the other boy, who was asking how much they paid her per hour. When he got the number, Ju Jinghuan's face showed surprise, and his gaze swept over the two brothers with a hint of reproach—

You two are loaded, and you only pay her this pittance?

What was even more astonishing was that Fu Liangxia, herself from a wealthy family, had agreed.

But soon Ju Jinghuan understood. Never mind the hourly rate—just being Bai Xin and Bai Yan themselves meant countless people would line up to model for them for free, or even pay for the privilege.

After all, it was the Bai family! Build a good relationship, strike up a conversation, and the scraps that slipped through their fingers would be more than enough to fill anyone's pockets.

Maybe his gaze lingered on them longer than he intended, for Ju Jinghuan suddenly said something in a low voice. Fu Liangxia turned to look at him, puzzled, and said, "Weren't you guys always grouped with Su Xingshu? Why the sudden switch? He won't be happy."

A voice came from behind: "I really wouldn't be."

Fu Liangxia nodded, with a look of "I told you so," but then the voice continued, "But it's got nothing to do with the two Bais. They can group with whoever they want."

She turned her head, eyes full of confusion, completely missing that Ju Jinghuan and Bai Xin above her had both darkened their expressions.

Su Xingshu's meaning was crystal clear.

He glanced up at Ju Jinghuan, then swept his gaze over Bai Yan, who was watching the show, and Bai Xin, whose expression had turned cold. Curling his lips, he said, "They're not a good choice."

Fu Liangxia looked at him. "If they're not a good choice, then who does Su see as one?"

Su Xingshu noticed that whenever she was being sarcastic, she called him "Su" in that way, as if it were some formal title. But her voice was soft and pleasant, and the simple address made people's hearts go weak.

"Me, obviously," he said, as if stating the obvious.

"Oh—" Fu Liangxia dragged out the syllable, a glint of knowing amusement in her eyes.

Hah. For all his high-and-mighty talk, it turned out he wanted to be in her group himself.

Su Xingshu choked, caught off guard by the teasing smile on her face. A flicker of stiffness crossed his features, but he quickly recovered, puffing up with righteous confidence. "Clearly, I'm the best choice—after all, our group has your brother."

He pointed to Fu Liedong beside him. Suddenly graced with such favor, Fu Liedong wore a moved expression. "Brother Su..."

The next second, Fu Liangxia shot him a cold look that made him shut up.

She said flatly, "What good is having Fu Liedong? Can he carry me up a mountain or shade me from the sun? Useless goods."

The disdain in those last words all but impaled Fu Liedong. His face froze, and he said, hurt, "Sis—"

"Am I wrong?" Fu Liangxia glanced sideways at him. "Every time, you chose your dear Brother Su over me."

That one sentence left Fu Liedong speechless.

But her complaint caught others' attention. Ju Jinghuan spoke up proactively, his tone warm: "If Fu needs, I can carry you up the mountain, and shade you from the sun."

A hint of shyness crept onto his face. "I work out regularly; carrying someone up a hill isn't a problem. And since Fu isn't in the best health, helping with shade is only natural."

He reacted too fast, blocking what Su Xingshu had been about to say with a neat maneuver.

Su Xingshu had wanted to say that anyone could do that, but the other had already seized the opportunity, and anything he said now wouldn't be as effective.

And the words he was hesitating to say were stolen again.

Bai Yan propped his chin on his hand, his elbow on the desk, his eyes curving into a smile. "Me and my brother can do that too. And there's two of us—one can carry you, the other hold the umbrella."

Gasps seemed to ripple through the surroundings, obviously not expecting Bai Yan to go that far.

The eavesdroppers couldn't help but wonder—what charm did Fu Liangxia possess to make four of them fight over her? And with such fierce words, even promising to serve her like laborers.

Su Xingshu shot Bai Yan a look, his gaze irritated. Why did this guy love stirring the pot so much? Did he have to butt in?

"What's it to you?"

"Oh, it's very much my business," Bai Yan said, smiling sweetly at Fu Liangxia. "She's our precious model."

Fu Liangxia was briefly dazzled by his look, but before she could speak, the person behind her answered for her: "Precious model, and you pay her that little? She'd make more in an hour of stock trading."

She turned her head in confusion, and saw Su Xingshu tilt his chin up. "Zhongcheng Steel? Very fine eye."

The moment "Zhongcheng Steel" was uttered, everyone's expression changed.

Maybe they'd just been watching the show earlier, but hearing the stock that had been a sensation in the industry recently, they couldn't help but look at her with sympathy. Most of those present were second-generation conglomerates, always keeping an eye on market trends, occasionally dabbling in selling stocks. But Zhongcheng Steel was different—its recent story was known even to those who didn't follow stocks—

A string of scandals, a candidate it had backed who had virtually no chance of winning, a stock price in free fall, and investors who'd bet on it were jumping from buildings overnight.

But "very fine eye"?

Everyone thought: choosing a stock like that wasn't a sign of good judgment. Maybe a week ago, when its candidate was riding high, it would have been. But at this price... they figured Su Xingshu was being sarcastic rather than sincerely complimentary.

Anyone who'd bought Zhongcheng Steel now was losing money. Unless she was betting on a drop—but shorting was far more difficult than going long.

After all, not long ago, Zhongcheng Steel was still a blue-chip favorite among many investors. What kind of prodigy could see its current decline coming? A fortune teller?

Of course, there were sharp-eyed traders who could spot such opportunities, but those seasoned pros had spent years in the market—how could a high schooler compare?

Most were skeptical, thinking that rather than genuine praise, Su Xingshu was mocking her.

But only Fu Liangxia knew he was probably sincere in his admiration. Yet how did he know?

She glanced at Fu Liedong, then recalled that she'd told no one about her stock trades. He shouldn't have any way of knowing.

So how had Su Xingshu gotten wind of it?

She pondered for a long while, only able to recall that she'd been looking at stocks in the library last week. But she was certain Su Xingshu hadn't been there—with his influence, if he'd been there, he'd have been mobbed.

"Wang Ziwei saw you. He was sitting behind you, and your laptop didn't have a privacy screen," he said. "He's into that kind of stuff, so when he saw you looking, he took a peek."

That explained it.

But—

"How did you know I shorted?" she asked.

Su Xingshu fixed his gaze on her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Intuition. You don't strike me as someone who'd cash out small gains. Zhongcheng Steel is an obvious good stock; buying high would just net you pocket change of a few hundred thousand. If you really wanted to make money, you wouldn't pick it."

She looked fragile on the outside, but her eyes always hinted at a sharpness, reminding him of an eagle in the sky—only striking when sure of its prey, one move, one kill.

Someone like that wouldn't be foolish enough to chase highs. On the contrary, Su Xingshu thought she was more like a gambler betting on opportunity.

Hearing that, Fu Liangxia smiled, neither confirming nor denying, and only said, "Thanks for the high opinion."

But their exchange made one thing clear—Fu Liangxia had indeed shorted the stock when everyone else was chasing the peak. What terrifying judgment and guts.

Even those who had initially questioned why four men were fighting over her fell silent. Whatever the reason, given her abilities, quite a few were already thinking of getting close.

Saintland was, after all, a mini social arena where friendships were not just friendships but choices of partners or allies beneficial to one's family. And the level Fu Liangxia had just shown—even setting aside the Fu family—was enough to bring her to the same negotiating table.

Sharp intellect and exceptional nerve were a winning hand in almost any game.