Conflict

After hearing Mo Yu's very modest answer, the boy should have tactfully sat back down.

But instead of sitting down, he drawled, "Good luck? I doubt it. Why don't I have that kind of luck?"

If the previous question could be described as a joke, then this statement carries a strong sense of provocation.

Mo Yu initially didn't intend to cause trouble, seeing that these boys either looked like social elites or rich young masters.

After all, he was just an outsider, and there was no need to get into a conflict with someone as soon as he entered. Besides, this was Liu Yiyi's home turf, and he didn't want to put Liu Yiyi in a difficult position.

I was just thinking of sitting quietly with Miler and whispering to each other, but before I could even sit down and warm my backside, someone started a fight.

Seeing that Mo Yu was being targeted as soon as she arrived, Liu Yiyi raised an eyebrow and was about to stand up when her sleeve was tugged.

"Sister Yiyi, please sit down."

As Mo Yu spoke, she slowly stood up. The clarity and affability that belonged to a nineteen-year-old teenager seemed to have been stripped away, revealing a cold and hard interior.

He looked down at Zhang Yang, who was still sitting, his gaze no longer polite as when they were looking at each other, but carrying a strong sense of oppression.

The first to notice this change were Miler and the girls next to her, Liu Yiyi, Zhao Man, and Bai Xue.

Although they study dance rather than acting, art is interconnected, and dance students have a deeper understanding of things like posture, confidence, concentration, and aesthetic taste than the average person.

The moment Mo Yu stood up, they immediately sensed the change in him.

It was as if the person standing next to them was no longer the innocent little brother who had been eating hotpot and chatting with them just moments before, but rather a sharp sword ready to be drawn.

Miler's fingers, which were originally gripping Mo Yu's clothes, tightened unconsciously. She looked up, her beautiful eyes filled with astonishment.

In her view, Mo Yu seemed to have a completely different soul in that instant. The calm yet sharp tension she exuded was an aura that no ordinary high school graduate could possess.

"Chen Shuo, right?"

Mo Yu reached out and picked up a cup of tea from the marble coffee table, then slowly handed it to the other person.

"What are you doing...?"

The young man named Chen Shuo was taken aback at first, then scoffed, "Are you planning to offer me tea as an apology?"

"Hahaha..." His companions and two girls behind him laughed at first, but then their faces showed disdain.

These men were all from Beijing. The men of Beijing believed that even if a donkey dies, it shouldn't fall down. They couldn't afford to lose face, no matter what they lost. Mo Yu's actions were something they despised the most.

"Tch... I thought it was something special? Turns out it's just a coward!" A young man sneered, his face full of contempt.

Liu Yiyi, Bai Xue, and Zhao Man, who were not far away, were also filled with disappointment. They never expected that their best friend's boyfriend would be such a scoundrel.

The private room was filled with harsh laughter; Zhang Yang and the other boys' contempt almost overflowed the room.

Mo Yu glanced at Mi Le out of the corner of her eye. Mi Le was standing two steps away, her clear eyes filled with surprise and heartache.

Her cheeks, which had been slightly flushed, turned pale with extreme embarrassment. Her slender fingers, hanging at her sides, gripped the hem of her skirt tightly and trembled slightly.

Mo Yu didn't explain, she just stared calmly at Chen Shuo.

His sneer grew stronger, even taking on the arrogance of a victor. He brazenly stretched out his hand, ready to accept the cup of tea as if it were a surrender document for a prisoner.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the saucer, Mo Yu casually toppled the teacup.

The scalding hot tea was instantly spilled all over the marble floor, and a few drops even splashed onto Chen Shuo's AJ shoes.

Startled by this sudden turn of events, Chen Shuo abruptly withdrew his hand, leaned back, and nearly fell off the sofa.

"You fucking..."

He cursed angrily, about to lash out, when he saw Mo Yu pinch the teacup with three fingers of her right hand.

A crisp "crack" was heard, and the milky white porcelain cup was instantly crushed into pieces.

As Mo Yu rubbed his three fingers together, the remaining porcelain powder "rustled" down from between his fingers onto the black marble table, looking like a small patch of dazzling white snow in the dim light.

Mo Yu slowly patted the dust off her hands, the movement as casual as if she had just crushed an egg, not a bone china teacup.

Chen Shuo froze in place, his finger that had been pointing at Mo Yu now trembling violently, and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Gulp"

After swallowing, he subconsciously shrank his neck and moved his buttocks back until he bumped into the back of the sofa.

The companions around him were like ducks with their necks being choked, each one silent and trembling, not daring to even breathe.

The previously noisy music was turned off at some point, and the private room instantly fell into silence. Apart from heavy breathing, there was no other sound in the room.

After doing all this, Mo Yu looked at him and said, word by word, "Luck is indeed a mystery, but it usually favors those who know when to shut up."

If Mo Yu had said this three minutes ago, he would have been ridiculed by everyone or scolded by some hot-tempered guy. But now, none of the dozen or so people in the private room dared to voice any objection.

Just as Mo Yu sat down again, someone in the previously quiet private room suddenly swore.

"Holy crap..."

The next second, Liu Yiyi made an extremely exaggerated yet surprisingly smooth movement... a standard tango slide, stretched out her long legs, touched the ground with her toes, twisted her waist, and instantly covered several steps, rushing straight to Mo Yu's side.

Her slender hand grabbed Mo Yu's right hand and pulled it forcefully in front of her. Her gaze, like a laser scanner, scrutinized every inch and every detail of Mo Yu's long fingers, palm, and even the fine lines on the back of her hand.

After a long silence, she asked in a trembling voice, "Little Fish... how... how did you do that?"

Her scream was like a battle horn, instantly igniting the suppressed fervor in the private room!

Bai Xue and Zhao Man could no longer contain themselves and jumped up from their seats with screams.

Like explorers who had discovered a rare treasure, the two rushed to Mo Yu's side and joined the "spectators".

Three furry heads were almost huddled together, and six hands reached out to Mo Yu's right hand in unison.

"Oh my god, let me see!"

"Really? There's not a trace at all? Just now..."

"This skin is so smooth...it seems even smoother than mine? Not a single callus!"

The three women watched and exclaimed in amazement, carefully touching and stroking Mo Yu's hands with their fingertips, almost trying to make Mo Yu's hands look beautiful!

"Hey! Don't do this, what kind of behavior is this!"

Mi Le, standing nearby, panicked. Like a protective mother hen, she forcefully snatched Mo Yu's hand from the clutches of her three best friends and held it tightly in her arms.