Beginner sharing edited MTL novels.

Ch 39: Do Good Brothers Not Have Any Pure Friendship?

Chapter 39

Wen Chenxi almost thought he was seeing things.

Otherwise, how could it be that he… was no longer on Xiao Yu’s friend list?

They had just made progress—he was finally sure that this rebar-steel kid might actually have feelings that went beyond friendship. After their little “good brother” incident, he was convinced their relationship had taken a step forward.

But now, staring at that glaring red exclamation mark, Wen Chenxi felt like he had been sent back to square one.

His first instinct was to call Zhuang Yanyu.

But the call rang until it automatically disconnected. No answer.

Wen Chenxi didn’t try again. Instead, he sent a short text:

[Wen Chenxi]: “Xiao Yu?”

Just two words—full of confusion and a quiet, invisible kind of heartache.

He had just managed to pry the steel bar from the concrete—hadn’t even begun to bend it—and now he’d been unfriended?

When no reply came, Wen Chenxi calmed himself.

After thinking for a moment, he called Zhou Qingcheng and asked him to send over the chat log with Zhuang Yanyu—everything that happened before he got unfriended.

Something had to have triggered this. He didn’t believe that Zhuang Yanyu would suddenly cut people off without reason.

Zhou Qingcheng was already busy with work, but since his brother asked, he just forwarded the entire chat history between him and Zhuang Yanyu without even glancing at it, then returned to his tasks.

Wen Chenxi carefully read through it line by line.

Honestly, he had expected Zhou Qingcheng to have said something that rubbed Zhuang Yanyu the wrong way, upsetting him enough to not only unfriend his brother but also cut off contact with him.

But from the chat record… he couldn’t see anything particularly wrong.

All Zhou Qingcheng had done was talk a little about where he got his design inspiration from—barely two sentences—before he got blocked.

And Wen Chenxi was certain: before this, his brother and Xiao Yu had never met or interacted.

Which made the question even weirder.

If there had never been a chance for conflict or rivalry, why would Xiao Yu suddenly dislike him?

So here came the real mystery:

Why unfriend him?

Why unfriend himself along with Zhou Qingcheng?

Surely Xiao Yu didn’t just hate novels—and disliked Zhou Qingcheng purely because he talked about novel-based systems?

Wen Chenxi didn’t believe that.

Xiao Yu wasn’t the type to be so unreasonable.

After Zhou Qingcheng finished the task at hand, he saw that Wen Chenxi still hadn’t replied, so he sent a message:

[Zhou Qingcheng: How’d it go? I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?]

Wen Chenxi stubbornly tried to defend the situation:

[Wen Chenxi: Xiaoyu must’ve pressed the wrong button by accident.]

[Zhou Qingcheng: The “Delete Contact” option is all the way at the bottom—how do you accidentally scroll down and hit that?]

[Zhou Qingcheng: I really don’t get why he doesn’t like me.]

[Wen Chenxi: It’s not that he doesn’t like you—he deleted me too.]

[Zhou Qingcheng: ??]

Wen Chenxi deleted a message.

[Wen Chenxi: It’s nothing.]

[Zhou Qingcheng: Why delete it? I already saw it.]
[Zhou Qingcheng: Mystery solved—you two must’ve had a fight. He doesn’t want to see you, or anything related to you, so I got caught in the crossfire.]

[Wen Chenxi: …]

[Zhou Qingcheng: Seriously, can you people in relationships stop hurting innocent bystanders? I was just trying to get along with my future sister-in-law.]

[Wen Chenxi: …]

[Zhou Qingcheng: People in love these days are terrifying. I’d rather spend my life with my processor.]

[Zhou Qingcheng: It’s the only thing that truly belongs to you. You give it a command, and it gives you exactly the response you expect.]

Wen Chenxi’s expression darkened: [Wen Chenxi: Do you still want that investment?]

[Zhou Qingcheng: Shutting up now.JPG]

Wen Chenxi held back the urge to block his younger brother. But the more he read, the more annoyed he got—and oddly enough, the more it all kind of…

Made sense.

Because looking back at the chat logs between Zhou Qingcheng and Xiaoyu, there wasn’t any clear reason—it was all just so sudden.

Wen Chenxi began to wonder: Had he somehow made Xiaoyu upset? Was it his fault that his brother got dragged into this?


Engineering Department.

In reality, Zhuang Yuyu had seen all of Wen Chenxi’s missed calls and messages.

Truth be told, he already started to regret deleting him.

“The little brother’s behavior shouldn’t be taken out on the older brother.” “Ah-Xi is innocent!”

But still, the human body just wasn’t the same as the one he had before. It was strange—sometimes, the body reacted faster than his brain’s processing unit.

Before he even consciously realized it, he had instinctively made a move to distance himself from danger.

Yes—danger.

His subconscious had already categorized anything related to Zhou Qingcheng as “dangerous.”

Zhuang Yuyu’s heart was pounding.

Thinking back to what Zhou Qingcheng had said, Zhuang Yuyu even started to suspect he might have figured something out.

First he gives him a robot. Then he uses that robot… to warn him?

Just thinking about it made cold sweat break out all over his body. 

“But he probably doesn’t know yet.”

Zhuang Yuyu ran through the situation again, carefully reviewing every detail of how he’d transmigrated into this world, replaying everything in his mind. He also analyzed what Old Zhuang had said about Zhou Qingcheng’s personality and tendencies.

After the analysis, Zhuang Yuyu concluded: He and his father hadn’t been exposed—yet.

But that was just for now There was no telling what might happen later.

Because Zhou Qingcheng didn’t just study their ancestral background—he read system novels… What if he suddenly put the pieces together with some wild imagination?

He was already theorizing how fictional system processors worked, and even used that as inspiration to build this robot…

Zhuang Yuyu really couldn’t afford to get too close to him.

This was his first time living as a human—he lacked experience. What if he slipped up and exposed himself?

He’d probably be dragged into some underground lab and dissected, wouldn’t he?

He remembered the only two modern “Domineering Dragon Protagonists” he had ever supported. One of them, before they rose to power, was almost sold off to a terrifying black-market hospital, the kind that trafficked in human organs.

Back then, it was only because he managed to bind with the host in time and provide the beginner’s gift pack that they escaped safely.

Just imagining himself lying on one of those terrifying operating tables was enough to make him feel suffocated.

And the little robot in front of him suddenly felt like a hot potato.

He actually loved receiving gifts—whether expensive or cheap, even just a bunch of wildflowers picked by the roadside—he liked them all.

Because he enjoyed the feeling of personally receiving gifts—something he had never experienced back when he was just a chip.

Looking at the little robot, Zhuang Yuyu thought for a while. Since it was lunch break, he found a blind spot in the surveillance cameras and immediately called Old Zhuang to report the whole situation in full detail.

Old Zhuang, after hearing it, also broke out in cold sweat:
“He really said that?”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Yeah.”

Old Zhuang said, still shaken:
“Then you better stay far away from him. This guy… reading novels, seriously!”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Exactly! Doesn’t focus on work, and instead reads stuff like that.”

After some mutual complaining, the father and son duo began analyzing just how dangerous Zhou Qingcheng might really be.

They ran some calculations, and the result came back: danger level fluctuating wildly.

The assessment factored in many variables:
— Family ties, like Wen Chenxi
— Current societal and technological development
— Zhou Qingcheng’s personality

But unfortunately, they didn’t know him very well.

Still, whether the danger was high or low, the fact remained: there was danger.

Old Zhuang suddenly grew alert: “Does that robot have surveillance or anything?”

Zhuang Yuyu: “No. I checked it.”

It was only because he’d checked thoroughly that he felt certain: Zhou Qingcheng probably hadn’t discovered their true identities.

But regardless of anything else, one thing was clear: he absolutely couldn’t get too close to that man!

Zhuang Yuyu said, “I’m planning to return the robot.”

Old Comrade Zhuang fully supported this decision. “Return it. We don’t need it. If Xiao Shiyi really likes it, we can make one ourselves.”

Zhuang Yuyu nodded seriously, “Mm-hmm.”

After finishing their discussion, Zhuang Yuyu put the robot back in its box, repackaged everything step by step, and sent it to the security office.

He labeled the box to indicate it was for the CEO’s office, so the security team would deliver it later.

Once the robot was sent off, Zhuang Yuyu felt much more at ease.

He suddenly remembered the missed calls and messages he hadn’t checked. Feeling a little guilty, he finally pulled them out to look.

How should he explain things to Ah-Xi?

As he thought about it, he began walking back.

Just as he returned to the company’s break room, Supervisor Xu came rushing over, panicked:
“Xiao Zhuang! The police are here to see you!”

“Me?” Zhuang Yuyu asked.

“Yes! They even showed me their badges. There’s a police car downstairs. They seemed kind of urgent.”

Supervisor Xu’s eyes were full of worry as he looked at Zhuang Yuyu.

He really doted on Xiao Zhuang. The moment he heard there were two police officers looking for him, his heart jumped to his throat.

Not because he thought Zhuang Yuyu had done something wrong—he knew such a well-behaved kid would never do anything bad.

What he was worried about was that someone else had done something, and Zhuang Yuyu was somehow getting dragged into it.

Seeing the concern in his supervisor’s eyes, Zhuang Yuyu thought for a moment and said calmly,
“You don’t need to worry. If it were something serious, they wouldn’t be waiting downstairs. They’d come straight in and arrest me.”

“True…” Supervisor Xu realized he had overreacted. Xiao Zhuang was right—if it were serious, the police wouldn’t be giving him time to respond. They’d come in and take him on the spot.

Zhuang Yuyu pressed his lips together. He felt like Supervisor Xu was a bit like Uncle Liu sometimes, and other times like a dad—always placing the oddest, most random worries on him.

So he added again, “Really, don’t worry.”

“As long as you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

Supervisor Xu led Zhuang Yuyu downstairs, and sure enough, they saw two uniformed officers waiting in the lobby.

Zhuang Yuyu actually recognized them—from the time at Ji Zhiyuan’s company.

As expected, when they saw him, they walked over right away: “Hey, student! We meet again. Remember us?”

Zhuang Yuyu nodded, “Yes, I remember.”

Supervisor Xu smiled politely, “Officers, may I ask what business you have with our Xiao Zhuang? Work’s about to start…”

One of the officers, surnamed Zhang, said, “There’s something we may need this student’s help with. Is that alright?”

He looked to Zhuang Yuyu as he asked.

Hearing it was to help, Supervisor Xu’s worry vanished instantly. “Of course, of course! Then Xiao Zhuang, you—”

Zhuang Yuyu seemed to have guessed what this was about and asked, “Is it related to Mr. Ji Zhiyuan’s company from before?”

Officer Zhang smiled, “Yes, it is.”

Zhuang Yuyu gave a small “mm” and turned to Supervisor Xu: “Could you help excuse me from work this afternoon?”

After a brief pause, Zhuang Yuyu thought for two seconds and said, “Uncle Xu.”

His dad had told him: for any kind male elder who treats you well, you should call them uncle, or perhaps uncle/brother/grandpa depending on age.

Zhuang Yuyu looked him over and felt that Supervisor Xu wasn’t old enough to be called ber ber or grandpa.

That one word froze Supervisor Xu in place. He instinctively replied, “…Of course.”

Only after Zhuang Yuyu had left with the officers did Supervisor Xu come back to his senses, feeling a bit stunned.

That little rascal just called me Uncle?!

Was this… a sign he was starting to open up to him?

He remembered when Zhuang Yuyu had first been temporarily transferred to the engineering department. He had been impossible to connect with—polite on the surface, but emotionally distant.

He never expected that one day… he’d get called “Uncle.”

Clutching his chest, Supervisor Xu murmured to himself,

“This feels just like the first time my son called me ‘Dad’—I’m so excited and proud!”

“No, no! There are rules in the company. He should be calling me Supervisor—not Uncle!”

Grumbling to himself, Supervisor Xu turned and headed back upstairs.


It wasn’t quite time for the afternoon shift yet. Those who lived far away were resting on the company’s designated nap floor. Some were napping at their desks.

Supervisor Xu was humming a tune as he returned to the Engineering Department—only to find that the big boss, Wen Chenxi, had shown up at some point.

Startled, he straightened up and widened his eyes, “P-President Wen?!”

Why was the CEO here now? Was this a surprise inspection? But it wasn’t even working hours yet!

Oh, right—Xiao Zhuang!

Knowing that Wen Chenxi was aware of his relationship with Zhuang Yuyu, Supervisor Xu didn’t try to hide anything. “Are you looking for Xiaoyu?”

Sure enough, Wen Chenxi asked directly, “Where’s Xiaoyu?”

Supervisor Xu figured as much. He quickly said, “Two officers just came and took Xiao Zhuang to the police station.”

“What?!”
Wen Chenxi’s brows furrowed instantly, the cold glint in his eyes almost piercing through his glasses. “What happened to him?”

“No, no, no.” Realizing the boss had misunderstood, Supervisor Xu hurriedly clarified:
“They literally just invited him. I mean it—they asked nicely! He’s just going to help with something!”

Wen Chenxi: “…”

He shot Supervisor Xu a cold sideways glance.

Supervisor Xu instinctively took half a step back…

What the heck, you’re the one who misunderstood!

And anyway—I’m warning you! Even if you’re the CEO, your own brother called me Uncle!

Smiling awkwardly, Supervisor Xu said, “Well then… I’ll just go file his leave request now…”

Wen Chenxi let out a breath and gave a slight nod.

After Supervisor Xu left, Wen Chenxi took out his phone—seemingly about to call Zhuang Yuyu again—but paused before hitting the dial button.


At the police station.

Zhuang Yuyu really had come to help.

Ever since Yao Guang Entertainment mysteriously hired a hacker who exposed the private information of every single artist under Ji Zhiyuan’s company, the police had been investigating the incident.

Thanks to Zhuang Yuyu’s skills, the authorities were able to track down the hacker—and from that hacker’s computer, they uncovered a large amount of incriminating evidence against Yao Guang Entertainment. Many of their artists were victims, having been exploited or harmed by the company.

However, the boss of Yao Guang turned out to be pretty clever too. Months before, he had already started transferring his assets.

Or rather—he had always been careful. Every so often, he would quietly move his money overseas.

Because some of the transfers happened quite a while ago, the cyber unit could only trace the financial records up to a few months back. Anything before that had already gone cold.

The boss had also gotten wind of the investigation and fled abroad.

He had so many different accounts, spread out so widely, that the police were burning time and manpower just trying to track everything.

There were also too many victims and too much money involved—and the local department just didn’t have enough resources.

Initially, the police wanted to escalate the case to higher authorities and ask for expert support to follow the money trail.

But then Officer Zhang suddenly thought of Zhuang Yuyu.

He told his colleagues:

“Why go far when we have someone right here? If we wait too long, the guy might withdraw another batch of funds and vanish again! Don’t forget—we have Azure Tech here in City A. There are plenty of experts there. We can ask for assistance.”

So Officer Zhang went to Azure Tech to borrow someone.

At first, he didn’t know Zhuang Yuyu’s name, but assumed anyone that skilled had to be a technician there.

However, when he arrived at the company, he didn’t see Zhuang Yuyu, and for efficiency’s sake, simply borrowed a technician—a man surnamed Liao.

Technician Liao wasn’t bad—he quickly tracked down four of the Yao Guang boss’s accounts.

The police immediately filed with the court to freeze those accounts through the banks.

But they still hadn’t caught the boss. Worse, they discovered that those four accounts were just the tip of the iceberg—he had at least a dozen more.

Yet no matter how hard Technician Liao tried, he couldn’t find any more:

“These are all overseas accounts, routed multiple times—it’s very hard to trace.”

Officer Zhang was unwilling to let the suspect slip away.

And something deep down told him that if it were that student from Ji Zhiyuan’s company that day, he would’ve figured it out.

So this time, he went straight to find Zhuang Yuyu.

At the station, Technician Liao was still around. When he heard that Zhuang Yuyu was also from Azure Tech, he greeted him:

“You’re from the tech department too? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Zhuang Yuyu replied, “I used to work in Tech Support.”

Technician Liao froze.  “Huh? Tech support?”

He looked toward Officer Zhang in disbelief, wondering if they’d gotten the wrong person.

Tech support? That meant he was in customer service.

More specifically, online technical assistance. Even more specifically, remote troubleshooting.

When he saw Zhuang Yuyu head inside with the cybercrime unit, Technician Liao whispered to Officer Zhang:

“Officer, are you sure you’ve got the right guy? He said he’s in tech support.”

Officer Zhang blinked.  “So?”

“That’s… an online repair technician.”

Officer Zhang: ???

Repair technician? But he clearly remembered that the student had been brilliant!

Now worried, Technician Liao decided to take a break and splash some water on his face to refocus—he didn’t want the “tech support kid” from his company to embarrass them.

He went to the restroom, relieved himself, washed his hands, took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and mentally prepared himself to return strong.

But just as he stepped back into the lobby, he heard Officer Zhang exclaim:

“That many?! 21 accounts?! That much money?!”

Technician Liao: ???

What?!

He figured it out?!

And that fast?!

Before he could fully process it, more voices came from the room:

“We already found which city in Country Y he withdrew the money in? Do we have the exact address?”

“Damn, already got the location? Kid, you’re amazing!”

“Sigh… cross-border arrests aren’t easy. And he’s still got money. These foreign accounts are nothing like domestic ones—we can’t just get a court order to freeze them. Tracking foreign transfers is a real pain.”

“Hold on, hold on—kid, what are you doing?! You pulled all the money? That’s… that’s…”

They wanted to say, “That’s illegal.”

But then they remembered: this was a criminal’s illicit assets, and the student hadn’t kept any of the money. He handed it all over to the state. That wasn’t illegal—it was helpful!

Officer Zhang opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but didn’t know where to begin.

Zhuang Yuyu said earnestly, “You mentioned that cross-border arrests are difficult. If he runs out of money, maybe he’ll come back on his own.”

The police officers: “…”

They had to admit—that made a lot of sense.

Someone used to living like a big-shot CEO probably wouldn’t last long without funds.

Officer Zhang patted him on the shoulder: “You’re amazing, kid.”

Catching sight of Technician Liao returning, he added with admiration: “Even your repair guys are this good—no wonder your company’s a major player.”

Technician Liao: “……”

Please stop… I’m not even as good as a repair guy…

So that entire afternoon, Zhuang Yuyu stayed at the police station, helping with the ongoing cybercrime investigations. He helped track down telecom scam operations, assisted the anti-gambling unit in shutting down several online gambling websites, and even uncovered a few paid pornographic livestreams—taking a huge load off the overworked police officers.

While shutting down those livestream rooms, Zhuang Yuyu noticed that one of them… didn’t seem to feature any girls. Only guys?

He was just about to take a closer look when Officer Zhang quickly reached over and covered his eyes:

“Don’t look at that kind of nonsense. You’re still a kid.”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Oh.”

What they didn’t know was that systems like him had a near-photographic memory. Even now in human form, his recall was still excellent—he had already remembered some of what he saw.

The police recorded every IP address Zhuang Yuyu helped trace, and soon, officers were being dispatched in large numbers to make arrests.


At 5 p.m., Officer Zhang personally walked Zhuang Yuyu to the entrance and even offered to drive him back to his company, saying he would later write a formal thank-you letter and recommendation for a reward.

But as soon as they stepped outside, they spotted a sleek, black Bentley parked not far from the station.

Next to it stood a tall man.

Zhuang Yuyu froze in place.

Officer Zhang followed his gaze. “Is that someone here to pick you up?”

Zhuang Yuyu nodded. “My best friend.”

Officer Zhang said, “Alright then, thanks again. If we need help in the future, I’ll call you directly.”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Okay.”

Wen Chenxi had clearly spotted them too and walked over.

“All done?” he asked.

Zhuang Yuyu nodded.

Wen Chenxi smiled and extended his hand.

Zhuang Yuyu’s body reacted faster than his brain, and he instinctively reached back to hold it.

He asked in a small voice, “Why are you here?”

Wen Chenxi led him toward the car, sighing softly, “My best friend doesn’t answer my calls, doesn’t reply to my messages, and even deleted me on WeChat. You tell me—why wouldn’t I come?”

Zhuang Yuyu immediately felt guilty, muttering, “I accidentally…”

Wen Chenxi didn’t claim to understand Zhuang Yuyu completely, but he could already read his moods and thoughts to some extent.

Whenever Zhuang Yuyu couldn’t say something directly, he’d try to muddle through with vague answers.

He probably thought he was being subtle and getting away with it—but Wen Chenxi found these little tricks heartbreakingly cute.

So sometimes he’d play along and pretend not to notice.

But not this time.

After settling him into the passenger seat and fastening the seatbelt, Wen Chenxi didn’t return to the driver’s side. Instead, he stayed by the door, leaning in slightly, as if blocking all escape routes before finally relaxing.

“Xiao Yu,” Wen Chenxi said gently, “If there’s anything bothering you, you can tell me directly.”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Oh.”

“If someone’s bullying you and you don’t know what to do, I can help you get back at them. If it’s work troubles, I can help you find a solution. Don’t forget…”

He paused.

Even if he disliked being labeled this way, if it made Zhuang Yuyu trust him more, he didn’t mind anymore.

“Don’t forget, we’re best brothers.”

Zhuang Yuyu: “…Oh.”

“So tell me—what’s been making you unhappy, okay?”

Looking at Wen Chenxi’s sincere expression, Zhuang Yuyu’s heart suddenly felt like it was racing, his face warming. He pursed his lips and said,

“Then I’ll tell you once I’ve figured out how to say it.”

He needed to figure out how to explain to Ah-Xi that he didn’t want to be acquainted with Zhou Qingcheng.

Still—the same old rule: What the little brother does shouldn’t be blamed on the older brother.

Because… he kind of didn’t want to give this up either.

He didn’t want to give up such a good best friend.

Wen Chenxi rubbed his head. “Alright. But once you figure it out, you have to tell me. Promise?”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Mm.”

Wen Chenxi pulled out his phone. “So… can I add you back on WeChat now?”

Zhuang Yuyu, blushing: “Okay.”

As he watched him accept the friend request, Wen Chenxi thought: Now that I’ve just won him back, I won’t bring up his little brother for now. I’ll save that for later.


That night, Zhuang Yuyu had a dream.

He dreamt that he was back at the police station, helping officers shut down those adult livestream websites.

He once again clearly saw that paid stream with two shirtless guys.

Why would two shirtless guys count as an adult livestream? He was still puzzled in the dream when a faint sound broke the illusion, jolting him awake.

Maybe because it had interrupted a dream, he woke up very alert—and realized Wen Chenxi was just about to get out of bed.

The sound he heard earlier must’ve been from Wen Chenxi shifting.

Zhuang Yuyu immediately spoke up, “Ah-Xi, where are you going?”

Wen Chenxi froze, voice slightly hoarse: “…Bathroom.”

Zhuang Yuyu: “Can you see the way? I’ll turn the light on for you.”

Zhuang Yuyu was on the side closer to the bathroom. He reached out to switch on the light—

“Wait—” Wen Chenxi tried to stop him, but—

Click.

The light turned on.

Zhuang Yanyu looked up at him, wanting to ask him to come back quickly, but when he looked over, he was stunned.

The man’s pajamas were actually a bit loose, but the areas where he had obvious symptoms were still particularly noticeable.

Zhuang Yanyu reacted: “Ah Xi, your…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Wen Chenxi covered his mouth.

Wen Chenxi: “…Don’t let me hear that word.”

Zhuang Yanyu blinked and obediently omitted the three words, but continued to ask: “That?”

After saying that, Zhuang Yanyu rubbed his hands, rubbed them again, and asked with a little expectation: “Do you want me to help you?”

Wen Chenxi: “…”

The author has something to say:

PS——

Yu Yu rubs his hands: I’ll help you!

Wen Chenxi: …(Why does he look so eager?)

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