A rare bookmark and an Aethel leather charm

The next day at noon.

The whistle dismissing the freshmen from military training had just rescued them from the scorching heat.

Han Dong charged into the dorm, tossed his camouflage cap onto the desk, and dragged Chen Ziang toward the door.

"Come on, Ziang, come play a couple of games with me at the internet café on the back street."

Han Dong was panting from the heat.

"This military training is torture. I have to get a couple of kills in the Rift to restore some HP, or there's no way I'll survive this afternoon's physical training."

Chen Ziang had initially disliked the internet café's environment, but he couldn't withstand Han Dong's persistent pleading. Besides, he really did want an excuse to escape the dorm's daytime stuffiness, so he let himself be persuaded and followed him out.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

For once, only Lu Chuan and Zhao Yifan were left in dorm 504.

The new air conditioner, installed in a rush, worked hard, blowing out cold air and sealing the scorching heat outside the glass windows.

Lu Chuan went to the washroom, turned on the tap, and washed his face. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down at his desk.

He picked up a bottle of mineral water and leisurely unscrewed the cap.

Zhao Yifan sat beneath his bed.

He held the thick English-language book in his hands, but his gaze had rested on the same page for a full ten minutes without turning it.

None of the words on the page were getting into his head.

The incident last night was like a video he couldn't turn off, replaying over and over in his mind.

That highly metaphorical erotic passage Lu Chuan had leaned over and translated in a clear, perfectly enunciated voice had become a thorn lodged in Zhao Yifan's heart.

The rules the Zhao Family had taught him since childhood were clear.

There were some things he couldn't play dead over.

Now that someone else had something on him, he had to seal that opening completely, in a way that was both dignified and befitting his status.

He couldn't let the matter become a landmine that might explode at any moment, and he certainly couldn't let that loudmouth Han Dong hear even half a word about it.

Zhao Yifan took a deep breath and closed the book.

He stood up and walked over to his locker.

He opened the door and took a small object from a little box at the very back.

He walked over to Lu Chuan's desk.

He didn't beat around the bush or offer any insincere pleasantries first.

He simply held out the object in his hand.

It was an unassuming brass bookmark with a piece of leather attached.

A warm, mellow patina had settled over its surface with age, and a small piece of fine dark leather was neatly stitched along its edge.

If it had been sitting in an ordinary stationery shop, it wouldn't even have cost more than a few dozen yuan.

But to someone who truly knew their stuff, it was extremely rare.

It was a piece custom-made for a particular niche cultural circle by a century-old traditional European craft workshop.

The workshop never accepted orders from outside individuals or sold its wares to the public. Its pieces circulated only as discreet markers of identity within that tiny circle, where heritage and tradition were prized.

Zhao Yifan had put a great deal of thought into bringing it out.

On one hand, he wanted to use it as a dignified payment for Lu Chuan's silence about the translation of that English slang passage last night.

On the other, he wanted to make one final probe.

He wanted to see whether Lu Chuan, who could casually explain the inside story of cost-cutting in top luxury watch movements, would recognize an object found only in the most exclusive old-money circles.

Lu Chuan set down his bottle of mineral water.

His gaze fell casually on the bookmark on the desk.

He reached out and took it, gently rubbing his fingertips twice over the brass patina and the natural grain of the leather.

"An internal-only piece from Maison Charvet?"

The words slipped out of Lu Chuan's mouth almost instinctively.

In his previous life, he had spent countless sleepless nights studying obscure things like this that were used to display one's taste, all so he could get into Jiangcheng's so-called circles of cultural distinction and strike up conversations with those lofty old-school bosses.

He had once known the history and heritage of this European workshop, even the names of every generation of its craftsmen, better than his university textbooks.

Hearing the name, Zhao Yifan's breath caught for an instant.

He had originally thought that even if Lu Chuan knew his stuff, he would at most recognize the exceptional craftsmanship. But he had never imagined that Lu Chuan would identify the secretive workshop by name without even looking closely, merely touching the bookmark once.

The young master of the Ji Province Zhao Family was now trying hard to maintain a composed expression, his face showing the strain as he attempted to settle the matter in this supposedly dignified way.

But the shock in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Lu Chuan played with the bookmark, watching Zhao Yifan's reaction with some amusement.

The heir raised by the Ji Province Zhao Family certainly observed the rules of the jianghu.

He didn't expose the little probe, nor did he make a show of refusing the gift.

Lu Chuan chuckled softly.

With the understanding of someone who saw through it but would never say so, he gave a slight nod.

His movement was decisive.

He simply put the brass bookmark away in the drawer on his right.

That was as good as telling Zhao Yifan where he stood: he accepted the favor offered in exchange for his silence, and the events of last night would rot in their bellies from then on in dorm 504.

Seeing Lu Chuan accept the bookmark without hesitation and recognize its origins at a glance,

Zhao Yifan felt the string that had been stretched taut inside him all morning finally relax completely.

The fact that Lu Chuan had recognized the bookmark's hidden value and accepted this exchange between adults showed that he not only knew his stuff, but also understood boundaries perfectly.

The transaction had been a great success.

Zhao Yifan had just been about to turn and return to his seat.

But Lu Chuan had no intention of letting him turn and leave just like that.

When it came to accepting gifts, Lu Chuan, living his life over again, had strict boundaries.

In his previous life, he had fought his way through countless banquets in the world of fame and fortune, and after reality had beaten him black and blue, the lesson he knew best was that debts of gratitude were the hardest to repay.

He had taken something from someone else.

And this was a gift meant both as a probe and as a gesture of friendship.

There was no way he could accept it for nothing.

Living his life over, one of the most important rules he had set for himself was never to take advantage of anyone or owe anyone some inexplicable favor.

Lu Chuan casually pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk.

He rummaged around inside.

Soon,

he found one of the three small gifts Eddie, the store manager, had privately given him as an internal privilege when he bought clothes at the Aethel counter the day before yesterday. Eddie had wanted to befriend this top-tier customer who could name the brand's inside secrets on the spot.

It was a leather charm pieced together entirely by hand.

It had no fancy presentation box and no unnecessary embellishments.

There wasn't even a conspicuous lettered logo on it. It looked very plain, even a little too understated and casual.

Lu Chuan held the charm.

It was as though he were holding a plastic keychain bought at random from a roadside stall.

His manner was casual to the extreme.

He raised his hand without straightening up even a fraction.

Then he tossed the leather charm straight toward Zhao Yifan.

The charm traced a swift arc through the air.

"A return gift."

Lu Chuan leaned back in his chair, his tone nonchalant.

"Take it and have fun with it."

Zhao Yifan instinctively reached out and caught the flying leather charm securely in his palm.

At first,

he thought it was just an ordinary little craft Lu Chuan had found somewhere, purely a return gift to save face and repay his favor.

After all, how special could something a freshman casually dug out from deep in his drawer be?

But he was, after all, a core member of the Ji Province Zhao Family, raised from childhood amid the finest material luxuries.

The instant his fingers touched the edge of the leather,

his fingertips brushed over a row of exceptionally even finishing stitches, sewn in a highly distinctive manner.

Zhao Yifan's movements abruptly stopped.

He lowered his head.

His eyes fixed on the leather charm lying quietly in his palm.

That distinctive stitching technique was far too familiar.

So familiar that he could hardly believe his eyes.

He immediately turned the charm over, his fingers trembling slightly as he parted a gap in the leather.

At the most concealed inner seam,

he saw a handmade coded mark so tiny that he almost needed a magnifying glass to make it out.

Zhao Yifan's pupils instantly contracted.

His heart slammed against his chest, and even his breathing stopped for half a beat.

He recognized it.

This was certainly no ordinary craft item that could be bought at a stationery shop near the university.

It was a custom-made, entirely handmade internal piece from Aethel.

Aethel, the understated luxury brand that served only the truly top-tier wealthy, had never deigned to print a flashy logo on the outside.

And this charm was among its most exclusive, least publicly known items, one that was not for sale.

It was not sold to the public at all.

Even VIP customers who had spent several million weren't qualified to so much as glimpse a gift like this.

Only the most important VIP customers, who carried enormous weight within the brand and received personal invitations, were given these internal gifts representing the pinnacle of craftsmanship and status.

He had only ever seen one object bearing the exact same coded mark and stitching in his mother's private collection cabinet.

Zhao Yifan felt his throat grow a little dry.

He snapped his head up and stared at Lu Chuan, who was sitting at his desk.

Lu Chuan was arranging the textbooks for his major that had just been handed out.

His back was relaxed, his movements steady.

There wasn't the slightest trace of reluctance, regret, or pride in him after giving away a rare, top-tier item that wasn't for sale.

He wasn't even interested in taking another look at the charm.

As if it were nothing more than a rag.

At that moment, Zhao Yifan's brain short-circuited completely.

He had originally thought that by offering the brass bookmark from that niche circle, he could preserve his dignity, seal Lu Chuan's lips, and discreetly sound out Lu Chuan's true standing in those circles.

He had thought he had shown just the right measure of propriety as the Zhao Family's young master and had the situation under control.

But with that casual toss,

Lu Chuan had dealt him a thorough dimensionality reduction strike in terms of social pedigree and understanding of wealth.

It was the absolute composure and indifference of someone accustomed to seeing the finest things.

It wasn't that Lu Chuan didn't understand their value.

It was because he had truly owned so many of them that he simply didn't care.

Zhao Yifan gripped the small leather charm tightly.

His palm was even beginning to sweat.

A powerful wave of shame washed over him.

He suddenly realized how discourteous and narrow-minded it had been to treat Lu Chuan as someone he had to guard against with hush money and probe so calculatingly.

He had used every bit of cunning his family had taught him to weigh the pros and cons and calculate his bargaining chips.

Yet Lu Chuan had not only seen through his probe at a glance, but had even generously tolerated his little maneuvers.

With this magnanimous, almost casual display of overwhelming superiority, Lu Chuan had understatedly conveyed a fact to him.

I understand what you mean.

But I don't consider you an outsider, much less take those schemes of yours seriously.

This perfectly measured sense of propriety, this unfathomable yet deeply restrained depth,

made Zhao Yifan put away every trace of the probing and wariness he had harbored as a young master of the Ji Province Zhao Family.

He carefully held the leather charm between his fingers.

He turned and walked back to his desk.

He didn't hang the charm, a symbol of the highest status, somewhere conspicuous to show it off.

Instead, he opened a drawer with great solemnity and put it safely and securely away inside.

His movements were extremely gentle, for fear of knocking it against anything.

He closed the drawer.

Zhao Yifan turned his head and looked at Lu Chuan again.

This time,

his eyes no longer held their usual layer of cold, distant wariness, nor the rigid yardstick he used to measure class and wealth.

All that remained was genuine approval and profound admiration.

The young master of the Ji Province Zhao Family solemnly made a decision in his heart.

At Jiangcheng University,

in this seemingly ordinary, even somewhat cramped and stifling dorm 504,

Lu Chuan was unquestionably a true friend for whom he could set aside all airs, someone worth getting to know sincerely and building a close friendship with.

He stood still.

"Many thanks."

Zhao Yifan's voice was quiet, but it carried an unprecedented earnestness and weight.

Lu Chuan didn't even look up.

He merely turned a page and waved a hand casually, without another word.

Outside the window, the cicadas continued their noisy chorus.

Cold air from the air conditioner circulated silently through the dormitory.