The Search Begins

I didn't expect Quentin to strike up a conversation. I replied seriously, "I'm not sure." 

Quentin seemed puzzled and glanced at me. "No interest in a vacation?" 

Was he hoping I would leave? 

Ha, I wouldn't do as he wished. 

"No need. Summer is too hot; I'd rather not travel." 

"Go to the Northern Hemisphere? It's winter there." 

I laughed, my tone stubborn. "I don't want to go anywhere." 

Realizing he couldn't convince me, Quentin fell silent. 

My lack of experience made my vegetable chopping slow. Quentin wanted to take over, but he held back, waiting patiently. 

After finishing the vegetables, I moved the cutting board toward Quentin. 

Through this interaction, we managed to prepare a simple dinner. 

After the meal, I took out my study materials for the geology graduate entrance exam, hoping I wouldn't fail miserably. Initially, I had considered taking the exam casually, thinking failing would be the best outcome. However, recalling the dean's warning... 

“Let it be. Focus on your studies, set high goals, aspire to be a torchbearer for socialism, and strive to become an exemplary youth.”

Quentin sprawled on the sofa, casually flipping through a magazine when his phone unexpectedly chimed. 

Deeply immersed in my books, I was abruptly pulled from my concentration. I watched as Quentin glanced at his phone and promptly dismissed the call. 

Feeling like an intruder, I grabbed my laptop and quietly retreated upstairs, leaving Quentin to his conversation. 

...

Tap, tap, tap.

Ten minutes passed, and then there was a knock at my door.

I swiftly opened the door, finding Quentin standing there, looking somewhat uneasy. "What's up?" 

"For you." Quentin extended an ice cream tub. 

I hesitated momentarily before accepting it. "Thank you." 

Refusing such a gesture would be foolish. 

"I apologize for interrupting your studies earlier." 

"No problem. I shouldn't have disturbed you in the living room." 

We engaged in polite banter, our conversation overly courteous. Who would have guessed that we were once childhood friends who shared bed-wetting incidents? 

Although it was Zephyrine Everlynn who faced bed-wetting issues, it indirectly affected Quentin. 

A headache loomed for Quentin. He was dissatisfied with his current dynamic with Zephyrine Everlynn and even resented the fact that her confession had disrupted their previously harmonious relationship. 

While opening the ice cream lid, I leaned against the door frame and observed Quentin lost in thought. Eventually, I couldn't help but speak, "Don't take my previous confession seriously. Consider it a moment of madness. I've thought about it, and my feelings for you aren't romantic. Please don't mind; I'll feel guilty." 

Quentin’s frown instantly smoothed out. An unexpected sense of relief washed over me as I witnessed his genuine smile. I wondered why I had been so intensely disliked... Now that the air was cleared, I felt a profound sense of relief. 

"Alright." Quentin’s smile returned, reverting to our previous friendly interactions. "I'll leave you be; rest early." 

"Of course." 

In my senior year, my class schedule was light. Having already decided to change my major, I abstained from internships. My days were spent studying for the geology graduate entrance exam. 

Quentin was immersed in his busy schedule; apart from our brief nightly interactions, he was rarely seen. 

I understood the reason. Quentin was being relentlessly pursued. 

At this point in the story, Quentin’s four pursuers had fallen for him, each eagerly vying for his attention. Although I lacked details about their pursuits, I could imagine the stress Quentin endured with four people constantly pestering him. 

Having distanced myself from the harem group, I felt a growing sense of liberation. I now observed the worldly disputes like a god. 

Proud of my decision, I stumbled upon Quentin’s recent award acceptance video while browsing the internet. 

In my previous world, I was merely a casual content creator in the amateur video community. Watching Quentin’s video, I sensed the potential for creating content in a meme style. I promptly registered a new account on a video platform and started making meme videos featuring Quentin. 

In the novel's world, the concept of meme videos existed, but they were not yet popular on this smaller platform. I specifically searched for Quentin’s meme videos and found none. 

A star without meme videos had an incomplete career! 

I was practically rubbing my hands together, completely determined to have Quentin join the Ghostly Zone All-Star lineup. If my ghostly video took off this time, I’d be relying on Quentin to put food on my table in the future! 

A few days later, a video from the Ghostly Zone skyrocketed to the top of the charts on the small video streaming site. Thanks to Quentin’s popularity, the video even trended on Twitter. 

A significant event occurred during the holiday season. 

One of Quentin’s top dominants, a police officer named Evie Richards, arrived. 

At that moment, Quentin was still out working, leaving me to deal with this mummy wrapped in bandages. 

"Are you Quentin's childhood friend, Zephyrine Everlynn?" Evie Richards's tone and expression were laced with hostility. 

Help, I'd already left the harem group! Don't look at me like that! 

"Yes, I am. Are you looking for Quentin? He's not at home," I replied. 

"I know he's not at home," Evie Richards continued, "I’m moving in here." 

I raised an eyebrow. "You're moving in? Does Bennett know?" 

"Of course, he knows. Otherwise, how would I dare to come?" Evie Richards snorted and looked at me. "Since you're Quentin's childhood friend, you're my friend too. But as a friend, you need to find your place." 

I pursed my lips, unwilling to show her a friendly face. I put my hand on the door. "Are you coming in or not? If you're not, I'm closing the door." 

My hope of Quentin’s top dom moving in was because I wanted to enjoy the meals they prepared. But looking at Evie Richards's current condition, it seemed she couldn't cook. 

Expectations plummeted! How rude, just leave! 

"I’m injured. Could you help me bring my luggage inside?" Evie Richards's facial expression changed faster than turning a page. 

I glanced at Evie Richards's suitcase, disdainfully pursing my lips. "Are you telling me what to do?" 

Evie Richards: "???" 

Since Evie Richards couldn't cook now, I wasn't going to be polite. "I work for money." 

I only had a total of twenty thousand in my account now, which I intended to save for emergencies. Unemployed and in dire need of money, I was low on funds. However, I had a unique way of making money. 

Quentin’s top dominants were wealthier than others. 

Evie Richards looked at me disdainfully, speaking like a nouveau riche, "How much do you want? I’ll pay. Plus, you can help me unpack." 

"Unpacking luggage is an additional charge." 

"Friend! I'm Quentin's future girlfriend! Don't be so cold." 

"Haha." 

"Two hundred, yes or no?" 

"Yes!" I agreed faster than anyone else, my voice brimming with confidence. It startled Evie Richards so much that she nearly fell off the stairs. At that moment, I suddenly remembered something. "You said Quentin agreed; do you have any proof?" 

Evie Richards's face froze. "…He said it verbally." 

I regarded her suspiciously. Evie Richards definitely didn't have Quentin’s consent. 

But I knew Evie Richards would move in, even if I refused. She would persuade Quentin and move in through soft or hard tactics. 

I was conflicted. 

Taking advantage of my dilemma, Evie Richards, leaning on her crutches, walked in and said arrogantly, "Just let me stay in Quentin's room."