The next morning, Lei Zhengyang descended the stairs to a breakfast spread that could wake the dead. The hall buzzed with the aroma of fresh pastries and a dozen side dishes, each more appetizing than the last.
"Zhengyang, got time today?" Lei Qiuping called, all grins. "Come with Third Uncle to the training grounds. Whip some sense into those cocky recruits."
Zhengyang eyed his uncle's fawning smile and smirked. "I'm busy. Last time you treated me to dinner, I nearly got jumped by thugs. Third Uncle, I think I'd better keep my distance. You owe someone money or what?"
Qiuping bristled. "Owe money? That's your style, kid. I'm not that guy. Come on, help me out. I've been drilling those recruits for months—progress is snail-slow. At this rate, we'll bomb the year-end military challenge. You don't want your uncle humiliated, do you?"
Zhengyang wasn't buying the sob story. "Your face's shine doesn't interest me. Lose if you lose—blame your lack of skill. Besides, an old bachelor like you? No wife, no glory—your face isn't just dim, it's peeling off."
Qiuping's eyes bulged. "You little punk, looking down on me? I'm a prime bachelor! Women chasing me could fill a reinforced company. One wink, and you'd have a new Third Aunt by tomorrow. Come with me, help me brainstorm!"
In the past, Qiuping wouldn't have begged Zhengyang for anything, but after witnessing his skills, he was scheming. Zhengyang shook his head. "No dice. Mom's on my case to find a girlfriend. I'm hitting the streets to see if I spot 'the one.' Sorry, Third Uncle, handle your own mess."
Lei Chunping, usually buried in work, perked up. "Zhengyang, we're fine with you dating, but no shady women. Grandfather won't approve." With the Lei family's stature, a bride's background mattered little—her character did. For a "wastrel" like Zhengyang, any decent wife was a win, no high hopes. But for his brothers, Zhengchen and Zhengyang, matches had to be elite, boosting the family's alliances.
Qiuping lit up. "Girlfriend hunt? Third Uncle's got you! The women's barracks are near our camp, and the cultural troupe's rehearsing for the National Day gala. Beauties galore, Zhengyang. After training, I'll sneak you in for a tour."
"Old Third, watch your mouth—you'll ruin him!" Xu Miaoli cut in, beaming at her son. "Zhengyang, didn't you say last night you wanted to study? I've contacted Academician Wang Liangeng at Tsinghua. He's meeting you today. Wang rarely takes students—miss this, and you're done."
She'd chatted with Zhengyang late into the night, thrilled by his maturity and drive to make up for past slacking. His eagerness to learn warmed her heart, so she'd pulled strings at dawn. That was the Lei family's clout.
Zhengyang nodded, grinning at Qiuping's crestfallen face. "See, Third Uncle? No time. Maybe in a few days."
Qiuping groaned. "Zhengyang, you're the Lei Third Young Master! Don't turn into a bookworm, nose in pages all day—that's a death sentence. Stay lively, keep some spark. What's with all the reading?"
Qiuping, no scholar, believed fists spoke louder than words. Chunping, though, backed Zhengyang. "Third's wrong. Knowledge is power. Zhengyang, I'm behind you. Any trouble, I'll fix it."
Zhengyang's study plan wasn't just about books. It was a cover. Xu Miaoli had scored him a mentor in Wang Liangeng, no ordinary academic—a national treasure, state-protected for his contributions. This gave Zhengyang a shield to turn his future-tech memories into reality. Proposing them outright? No one would buy it, or they'd dissect him like a freak. With Wang as his front, suspicion would fade.
There was another reason: his future wife. She was a Tsinghua student now, facing her life's greatest crisis, sparked by her brother—Zhengyang's future brother-in-law, one of his six loyal "War Kings." These six would stand by him lifelong, his truest allies. He needed to find them early.
"Zhengyang's hitting the books?" Patriarch Lei Yunbao strolled in, chuckling. "Good. The kid's finally wised up—learn till you're old!" Unlike before, when he'd ignored Zhengyang with cold grunts, his face now held a gentle smile.
"Father, can't you back me?" Qiuping whined. "I need Zhengyang at training. You know the year-end military contest—if I don't rank, our unit's designation gets axed!" It was a blow to the Leis' military influence, but only he seemed to care.
Yunbao glared. "You, a colonel, loafing and bragging all day? Look at your troops—bunch of clowns. Lose? You earned it. Weak skills, who's to blame? If they cut your unit, good—frees resources for better teams. Stop wasting them."
Qiuping fumed but bit his tongue. Defying the patriarch meant a tongue-lashing. Everyone knew his thick skin—he'd shrug off any blow like a diamond-clad monk. Yunbao patted Zhengyang's shoulder. "Study hard. Grandfather's rooting for you."
Zhengyang nodded. "I will." Studying gave him time to organize his memories and execute his plans step-by-step, avoiding suspicion.
After breakfast, Xu Miaoli drove him to Tsinghua University. The ancient-style gate, stacked with green stone, bore bold, forceful characters on its plaque, exuding the scholarly aura of this cultural bastion. Despite a century of change and rebuilds, Tsinghua's soul endured.
Arrangements were set. Xu Miaoli's car rolled into a serene residential area, not cookie-cutter apartments but elegant three-story villas. These housed luminaries who'd made waves in their fields. Had Zhengyang not rebelled against classrooms, craving freedom like a wild stallion, he could've studied here years ago. The Lei name opened Tsinghua's doors effortlessly. Today, that dream came true.
At Villa 64, a middle-aged man awaited. As the car stopped, two female driver-bodyguards opened the doors. Xu Miaoli stepped out, and the man greeted warmly. Not Academician Wang, but his assistant, tasked with ensuring the scholar's life ran smoothly so he could focus on research—a national priority.
"Madame Lei, welcome. The academician's teaching disciples inside. This must be your son—a fine young man. Please, come in. Wang will be out shortly."
Knowing their status, the assistant, a state employee, was cordial, though he privately doubted Zhengyang's scholarly chops. His face stayed professional. Xu Miaoli, despite her Lei matriarch status, smiled humbly. "Academician Wang leads national research—of course he's busy. We'll wait."