Chapter 4 : Are You Deliberately Taking Revenge on Damian?

The child laughed so hard that his hair shook, tickling Tristan''s neck. Tristan rubbed the top of his head, savoring the moment. He could feel the child''s happiness and believed he genuinely liked the puppy.

After a while, Tristan remembered that the child was still growing and needed to sleep early for his health. He reluctantly reminded him, "It''s getting late, Damian. Shouldn''t you be going to bed?"

Damian responded with a soft "Mm," immediately pulling away from his embrace. He said goodnight and ran back to his room.

Tristan watched the child leave, his happy demeanor bringing a smile to his face. He murmured, "Kids will be kids." He looked down at his now empty hands and clenched them.

He had been so busy with work that he rarely got close to the child, let alone hugged him.

It turned out that hugs could bring warmth and energy. Tristan''s handsome face broke into a gentle smile.

Back in his room, Damian kicked off his slippers and flopped onto the bed, spreading his arms wide in a tight embrace with the mattress. He was as excited as a young boy who had just fallen in love.

Today was truly a day to remember. He had been showered with surprises all day long.

Tristan said he liked him.

Although it was the affection of an elder for a younger, his happiness was indescribable.

In a great mood, Damian had a dreamless night.

...

The next morning, after Damian and Tristan finished breakfast, Tristan offered to drive him to school. Understanding how hard Tristan worked, Damian politely declined.

Tristan didn''t insist; as long as the kid was happy, that was enough. He watched Damian get into the family driver''s car and then drove himself to the company.

When Damian arrived at school, the morning sun had already painted half the sky.

He walked briskly through the school gate and greeted the guard politely, "Good morning, sir!"

"Good morning!"

Damian was a top student and quite well-known at school; all the guards recognized him.

Who wouldn''t know or like a well-mannered, good-looking, and high-achieving kid?

Damian went to the classroom, put down his backpack, and then headed to the office to retrieve the math homework that the homeroom teacher had graded.

As the math class representative, he occasionally helped the teacher during morning self-study by explaining mistakes to his classmates.

In the elite senior class, they had already finished the textbook content and were mainly focused on review, practice, and exams.

After handing out the homework, Damian walked to the podium and said to his classmates, "I''ll write the correct answers on the board. If you don''t understand something, raise your hand and ask me. If no one asks, I''ll assume you all understand."

"Damian, did you get everything right on this homework again?" asked Samuel Taft, the second-ranked student in the grade, stretching his neck.

The top two students in the grade always had a bit of a competitive streak.

But their rivalry was limited to academics; outside of that, they were good friends.

Damian raised an eyebrow and nodded. Samuel''s deskmate, Robert Drexel, couldn''t help but chime in, "Samuel, isn''t that a given? When has Heinz ever not aced a math assignment?"

Samuel flicked his deskmate on the forehead, "You, being at the bottom of the class, have no right to speak."

Robert: "..."

No need for personal attacks, okay?

If it weren''t for the fact that you help me with my homework, I''d have already beaten you up.

Robert retaliated with a flick to Samuel''s forehead.

Seeing Samuel and his deskmate messing around, Damian threw a piece of chalk at them and said seriously, "Samuel, you and your little wife better not cause trouble while I''m explaining."

Hearing this, the classmates all looked at Samuel and Robert, covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Samuel and Robert were childhood friends, always bickering and playing together, so the class often teased them as a couple.

Robert turned his face away, "Like hell I''m his wife."

Samuel also turned his face away, "Even if my wife were a ghost, it wouldn''t be you."

Damian smiled slightly. He couldn''t help but feel there was something unusual about their relationship. In a calm tone, he said, "Alright then, quiet down and focus on the answers."

The elite class was always well-disciplined, and they quickly quieted down.

Damian wrote the homework answers on the board and explained some common mistakes. The morning self-study session ended.

The first two periods in the morning were for working on real exam papers, and the next two periods were for teachers to go over review questions.

...

At lunchtime, Andrew threw down his pen, interrupting Damian, who was still working on problems. He dragged him out of the classroom, urging, "Heinz, hurry up! There''s good food today, and it''ll be gone if we''re late."

Damian, caught off guard, could only follow him, running through the long classroom corridor, down the stairs, past the library, and along a leaf-strewn path.

Damian was struggling to keep up, his voice breathless, "Hey, slow down a bit."

This was more exhausting than a fight.

"If we slow down, it''ll be gone," Andrew said, not slowing his pace in his quest for good food.

The campus was especially noisy during lunchtime. It wasn''t just them running wildly towards the cafeteria; many other students were doing the same. Damian was being dragged by Andrew, overtaking wave after wave of people.

As a result, when they reached the cafeteria entrance, they couldn''t stop in time and collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.

Before Damian could react, he was pushed hard and fell to the ground.

"Heinz, are you okay?" Andrew quickly helped Damian up and then turned around to stand up for him, like a protective mother hen, chest out, questioning the person who pushed him, "What''s wrong with you? Why did you push him?"

Damian dusted off his uniform and looked up to see who had pushed him, frowning when he saw it was Lawrence again.

Lawrence was his uncle''s nephew, a relative in name.

Damian couldn''t understand why Lawrence kept targeting him. In the past, Lawrence had only verbally provoked him without causing any real harm, so Damian had ignored him.

But this time, Lawrence had gone too far by getting physical. If it weren''t for the inappropriate setting, Damian would have loved to throw him over his shoulder and sweep his legs.

Lawrence, looking like he did nothing wrong, sneered, "Weren''t you the ones who bumped into me first?"

Andrew felt a pang of guilt for a second, knowing it was indeed their fault initially. But that didn''t justify pushing someone. Besides, Damian wasn''t at fault; it was Andrew who had bumped into Lawrence, not Damian.

In such a crowded place like the cafeteria, accidental bumps were normal. But Lawrence''s reaction was excessive, and Andrew couldn''t help but suspect some personal vendetta.

Andrew narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Lawrence''s malicious face, and seriously analyzed, "Are you taking this opportunity to get back at Damian? Is it because he''s always at the top of the class, and you''re jealous?"

Andrew couldn''t think of any other reason why someone would dislike Damian. After all, Damian was not only good-looking and a top student but also helpful and admired by the whole school.

Damian: "..." He appreciated his straightforward deskmate''s attempt to analyze the situation.

But Damian didn''t believe Lawrence was just jealous of his academic success; there had to be another reason.

Seeing that Andrew had hit the mark, and noticing the surrounding students pointing and whispering, Lawrence knew he couldn''t cause trouble at school. If his father found out, it would make things even harder for him and his mother at home. Feeling guilty, he muttered, "Who''s jealous of him? You''re crazy," and then turned to leave.

Andrew, not willing to let it go, called after him, "Hey, don''t go! Which class are you in? You haven''t apologized yet."

Damian watched Lawrence''s retreating figure, a dark glint in his eyes. He had plenty of opportunities to teach Lawrence a lesson and wasn''t in a hurry. He quickly grabbed Andrew, who was about to chase after Lawrence, and reminded him, "If you don''t get your food now, you''ll miss out on the good stuff."

"Heinz, I''m sorry," Andrew turned around, feeling guilty.

Damian patted his shoulder, a hint of ruthlessness in his clear eyes, "It''s fine. If a dog bites you, do you bite back?"

Andrew nodded, "Makes sense," then paused and asked, "But Heinz, do you have some personal grudge with him? I can tell he''s deliberately targeting you."

Most students in the elite class focused on their studies and rarely paid attention to things outside of academics, so Andrew didn''t find Lawrence''s behavior normal.

Damian''s voice was indifferent, "No, not really."

Hearing this, Andrew didn''t ask further. He was more concerned about the food and quickly ran to get his meal.

When he came back with his food, Andrew looked distressed, tapping his utensils in frustration, "The good stuff is gone. All that running for nothing."

Damian took a few beef meatballs from his plate and gave them to Andrew, chuckling, "They all look pretty much the same. Just make do."

"It''s not the same," Andrew pouted in disdain but still took a meatball and popped it into his mouth.

Damian had only taken a few bites of his meal when he suddenly thought of Tristan. He wondered if Tristan had eaten lunch yet. Taking out his phone from his pocket, he snapped a picture of his meal and sent it to him, asking if he had eaten.

Tristan replied almost immediately: "Uncle: Why aren''t you eating any meat?"

Damian responded: "Damian: I came late. I wanted some good food, but it was all gone."

This time, Damian waited for a while but didn''t receive a reply. Guessing that Tristan might be busy, he lowered his head and continued eating.