Ah! The Villains I Forced to Turn Evil Can Read My Mind

Pei Mu slowly opened her eyes, casting a sidelong glance at her: "Chuchu, your breathing rhythm is off."

Qiao Chuchu snapped out of her thoughts and adjusted her breath.

Pei Ci mischievously poked her waist.

She shuddered and swatted his hand away: "Stop being so annoying!"

Pei Ci grinned cheekily: "Not annoying at all~"

Pei Mu sighed helplessly: "So you just can’t learn how to calm your mind, huh?"

She pointed at Pei Ci indignantly: "I can learn, but Pei Ci keeps messing around!"

Pei ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍Mu said matter-of-factly: "But if you were truly focused, Pei Ci’s antics wouldn’t even matter."

Qiao Chuchu: "? Are you two just covering for each other now?"

Pei Mu paused, not denying it, and knelt beside her: "Close your eyes."

Reluctantly, she assumed the position and shut her eyes.

Pei Mu instructed: "Arch your back and exhale."

She gradually curved her spine upward.

Pei Ci’s cheerful voice chimed in: "Yoga teacher! I’d like to report that Miss Qiao’s posture isn’t up to standard!~"

Qiao Chuchu: "?"

Pei Mu cupped her stomach with a hand, speaking leisurely: "Oh? Let me see."

Qiao Chuchu: "……"

Pei Ci pressed close to her right side, threatening playfully: "Don’t let your breathing get messed up, Chuchu, or I’ll have the teacher keep you stuck in this pose forever."

"She won’t get stuck." Pei Mu’s voice came from her left, his warm breath brushing her cheek: "Our Miss Qiao is a naturally gifted student. She masters everything in one go, right, Miss Qiao~"

Qiao Chuchu finally realized what was happening, her temple twitching: "…You two perverts are messing with me on purpose, aren’t you?!"

Her sharp gaze locked onto their amused eyes!

The two froze.

Qiao Chuchu punched them both!

Pei Mu and Pei Ci collapsed in unison, clutching their faces pitifully: "Qiao Chuchu, what was that for?!"

Fuming, she turned on her heel and stormed off: "Clean this place up, both of you!"

Pei Mu and Pei Ci watched her retreating figure longingly: "Wait, Chuchu, come back! We won’t tease you anymore!"

Weisheng Wenzhan appeared at the doorway: "Time’s up. My turn now."

Pei Mu and Pei Ci paused, checked the time, and reluctantly fell silent.

Qiao Chuchu blinked in confusion: "What do you mean, ‘time’s up’?"

Weisheng Wenzhan didn’t answer, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along: "Go shower and change first."

She stared at his tall, straight back, puzzled.

[Are these guys hiding something from me?]

Then it hit her: [Ugh, I forgot again—he can hear my thoughts.]

Weisheng Wenzhan ignored it, leading her straight to her room.

With practiced ease, he browsed through her wardrobe: "Wear what I pick for you today."

She found it odd but nodded obediently: "Okay."

He handed her a comfortable yet stylish outfit: "This one."

Qiao Chuchu examined it: "But I’m not going out today. Can’t I just wear pajamas?"

"You will be going out," Weisheng Wenzhan stated confidently. "Now go."

She felt a strange suspicion.

They were definitely keeping secrets.

Without pressing further, she headed into the bathroom to shower.

Weisheng Wenzhan sat on her sofa, scrolling through recipes on his phone.

The sound of running water gradually faded.

He looked toward the bathroom as the door opened, steam wafting out with the faint scent of shower gel.

Qiao Chuchu stepped out, fully dressed: "Well?"

Weisheng Wenzhan’s eyes lit up. Setting his phone aside, he walked over, removed her hair towel, and began blow-drying her hair.

She squirmed: "I can do it myself. You don’t have to bother."

His slender fingers deftly avoided her hands and switched on the dryer.

Qiao Chuchu sat stiffly before the mirror, stealing glances at him through the reflection.

Wenzhan’s gaze never left her.

His deep eyes lingered, his handsome features even more captivating than in his past life.

Perhaps because he was much younger now, the weight of time had lessened, making his striking features all the more pronounced.

Qiao Chuchu stared, mesmerized, thinking: [Weisheng Wenzhan carries himself like a young king.]

His hands stilled mid-motion, his dark eyes softening as a slow smile curved his lips.

She hunched her shoulders, embarrassed, and looked down.

[Why do I keep forgetting others can hear my thoughts?]

[Why do I even have this passive ability?!]

Annoyed, she lifted her head—only to meet Wenzhan’s amused stare.

Weisheng Wenzhan gazed at her intently, chuckling when their eyes locked.

Her face burned red, and she covered it: "So annoying!"

He laughed softly: "Do you know why I like hearing your thoughts?"

She peeked through her fingers: "?"

Wenzhan’s intense gaze held hers: "Because the things you can’t say out loud are more sincere… and far more entertaining."

He continued drying her hair: "Besides, it’s much better now. When we first met, you kept calling me ‘son’ in your head."

Qiao Chuchu froze, mortified: "And you weren’t mad?"

"Oh, I was." Weisheng Wenzhan combed through her hair: "But I couldn’t say anything back then. You’d cheerfully think ‘good boy’ this and ‘good boy’ that, and I just had to endure it. Eventually, I got used to it."

He leaned down, hands resting on her shoulders, meeting her eyes in the mirror: "Because even while calling me ‘son,’ you genuinely cared for me."

His lips curled proudly: "Right, Chuchu?"

She ducked her head, grinning sheepishly: "Heh."

Weisheng Wenzhan took her hand: "Come on, I’ll cook for you."

She gaped at him: "You can cook?"

[I assumed he’d had servants his whole life.]

"I was raised by servants," Weisheng Wenzhan said smoothly. "But as the first heir of the Weisheng family, my upbringing was strict. Aside from endless studies, they’d often dump me in the wilderness to survive alone."

Qiao Chuchu’s eyes nearly popped out: "Alone? Didn’t that make you miserable?"

Weisheng Wenzhan walked into the kitchen, removed his jacket, tied on an apron, and lit the stove: "No. From the moment I could remember, my life was bound by their rules. My body didn’t belong to me—it belonged to the family. So however they treated me was what I deserved."

She frowned: "But that doesn’t make sense. Weisheng Lin can’t do anything. He couldn’t even boil water before."

"Weisheng Lin is the only favored one among us five. From birth, our parents adored him. They couldn’t bear to let him lift a finger."

Qiao Chuchu was stunned: "And none of you resented him?"

"Why would we?"

Weisheng Wenzhan sliced a croissant, unfazed: "It’s not like I don’t love myself."

She clicked her tongue: "I think you just don’t have the capacity for jealousy, period."

His hands paused mid-plating: "No, I can feel jealous."

He cast a deep, lingering gaze at her: "Before, I would hold back when I felt jealous, thinking I was too old to have the right. But now it's different."

Leaning closer to Qiao Chuchu, he murmured, "Now that I'm no longer too old, I have every right to fight for you—so my jealousy burns fiercer."

His eyes narrowed, voice laced with meaning: "Fiercer than ever."