Chapter 25: The Mysterious Kid
He then turned to look at me, as if he wanted to take me away immediately—or, at the very least, wait for me to finish eating so he could take me somewhere else. Remembering his rough behavior last time, I felt a little uneasy.
Suddenly, his iPhone rang loudly. He picked up the call, and a deep concern immediately appeared on his face. It seemed like something had happened in his family, and it had to do with his younger brother, Trần Bình Minh.
After finishing the call, That Handsome Butt quickly got into his car and drove off. Before leaving, he didn't forget to say,
"I'll come by another time."
I was actually a little worried about him. What could have made him leave in such a hurry?
The Gold Medalist held up the business card and asked me,
"Is he your boyfriend? I think I read an article about him before."
I shook my head with a wry smile.
"No, he's not. Do we even look like a good match?"
The Gold Medalist glanced at the now-disappeared BMW but didn't seem particularly curious. We then headed off to have dinner together.
His way of speaking was relaxed, humorous, and, surprisingly, his outlook on life was quite similar to Mr Aunt's. However, he had a certain lightness and ease that Mr Aunt lacked. Maybe it was because he was born into a wealthy family, so he viewed life in a simpler way. Talking to Mr Aunt always made me tense, but with this kid, it was the opposite—he made me feel close, like a sibling or a friend.
Out of nowhere, he asked me,
"Does Mr Chung have a girlfriend?"
I nearly choked on my noodles. Don't tell me this kid likes Mr Aunt and wants my help to get close to him?
"Why are you asking me? Do you think I'd know?"
The Gold Medalist continued eating his noodles nonchalantly.
"Oh, no reason. I was just worried that you might be his girlfriend."
What's that supposed to mean? Was he afraid I'd be his love rival? I replied casually,
"He doesn't. Who would even fall for that cold, iron-faced guy?"
The Gold Medalist placed his empty bowl on the table and gave me a cryptic smile.
"I hope you're telling the truth."
Oh god. Geniuses really are all equally difficult to understand. I didn't have time to analyze whatever he meant. After finishing my meal, I thanked him and headed back to my dorm.
That night, I showered and did my laundry. I wasn't sure what to do for the rest of the evening to unwind. Lately, I had been studying like a machine, to the point where I felt like an actual workhorse. Thankfully, the competition was finally over. But this sudden free time was making me feel a little restless.
I suddenly recalled That Handsome Butt's worried expression. Should I check up on him?
I opened my phone to look at my call history, hesitating on whether to call him or not. That's when I noticed an outgoing call to a contact named William Cường.
Huh? That's weird. I had never saved a contact with that name before. And I definitely hadn't called anyone today.
Then, it hit me—the Gold Medalist.
He must have taken my number while I was asleep and saved his own in my phone.
Without hesitation, I deleted it.
Geez. If he wanted to be fancy, he could've just gone with WC for short. Did he really have to make it William Cường? What a try-hard.
After that, I started running into The Gold Medalist quite often. Maybe we had crossed paths before but never noticed each other—perhaps even sat nearby without making an impression. But after that competition, we both knew about each other, and suddenly, I realized we bumped into each other at least twice a week.
Good lord! This kid had an outstanding intellect, but he worked on inspiration. Unlike Mr Aunt, he was quite playful—something I could relate to. But every time I saw him, he was always surrounded by a pretty girl. Sometimes, even two or three at once! These girls clung to him like glue. It was a disgrace to womankind! This kid was clearly a natural flirt. His way of speaking was cheerful, half-joking, half-serious, making the girls swoon over him. Kids these days were something else.
On Tuesday night, I was studying for Mr Aunt's class the next day when I got a call from an unknown number.
"Hello?"
A laugh came from the other side—a dangerously charming one.
"You're so obedient. Even your voice is seductive."
Instantly, my mood soured. That voice, that way of speaking—it could only be The Gold Medalist. I could be polite, but not to this little rascal. My tone turned stern.
"Hey, are you trying to mess with me?"