The High-Stakes Game of the Elite

My life, as Hứa Giai, revolved around numbers and the worn uniforms of the prestigious aristocratic school. I was the poor, transfer student, an innocent, obedient little flower in everyone’s eyes—or at least, in the eyes of the wealthy.

Just two days in, I was dragged into a strange group chat, thick with the scent of money and arrogance.

The first message I saw was cold and challenging:

“The poor transfer student is so innocent and obedient. Who can pursue her first? The rest of you will have to call the winner ‘Dad,’ right?”

The chat was filled with the school’s most notorious, rich playboys. And the “poor student” they were discussing was me.

A faint smile curled my lips. Hứa Giai may be poor, but she is not stupid.

I immediately adopted a persona with an evocative username: “Ex-Husband” (Chồng Cũ).

Ex-Husband: “Hello gentlemen, I am her ex-boyfriend. I know all the information about her, and the price is negotiable.”

One person quickly responded, disrespectfully: “If you know her so well, do you know when her period is?”

I calmly typed, holding my ground: “Such private information requires an extra fee.”

My phone vibrated. 5000 tệ transferred. A surge of thrilling joy rushed to my head. A novel, lucrative business model had opened up for the girl who had been poor for 18 years.

The most vocal participant in the group was Giang Tự—Giang Thiếu, a well-known figure in the wealthy circles, whose monthly allowance was enough for me to work part-time for half a year. His life was so boring that he only had money for entertainment, and his favorite pastime was teasing poor students for fun.

Giang Thiếu: “But she looks so innocent; how could she have dated before? Mate, how are you going to prove you’re her ex-boyfriend?”

Fine, Giang Thiếu. I like it when you walk straight into my trap.

I opened my photo album and sent a few pictures of me cooking directly to the group chat. They were taken by my grandmother, with an intimate angle, clearly shot indoors.

Ex-Husband: “These are photos of Hứa Giai personally cooking for me. Do you believe me now?”

The group chat exploded, filled with derogatory comments, especially from Trần Chi Luật—Trần Thiếu, a famous school tyrant with a dark spirit and deep hatred for the world due to his family circumstances. He viewed all girls as fake and evil.

Trần Thiếu: “Get lost. A girl like her only deserves to be my dog.”

I added fuel to the fire: “I know even more. What is she doing now? What kind of boy does she like? I know it all.”

2000 tệ transferred.

I slowly typed: “If you want to pursue her, you need to be quick. Lately, she’s been working part-time at Restaurant C, and I heard a male colleague is interested in her, named Chu something.”

I was surprised to learn that Restaurant C belonged to Giang Tự’s family. Ten minutes later, Giang Tự appeared at the restaurant, and the lobby manager, Chu Gia Hào—the one who had tried to grope me—was fired with a resentful look.

Giang Tự: “Any stray dog trying to pursue my goal—mess with anyone else, but not mine. I’ve fired that guy. Tell me, what kind of person does Hứa Giai like?”

2000 tệ transferred. A surge of happiness overwhelmed me. I’m about to get rich.

I replied: “She likes people who are polite and kind.”

From then on, Hứa Giai—the victim—and “Ex-Husband”—the informant—began a subtle game of emotional manipulation.

As I was wiping a table and dropped a tissue box, Giang Tự appeared. He picked it up, his eyes sparkling as if ready for a romantic scene.

Giang Tự in the Group: “She just looked at me; I think I have a chance. I just helped pick up a tissue box, and she thanked me. Is she starting to like me?”

The other playboys clamored for information: “Where does she usually go? How do I get her to go out with me?”

5000 tệ transferred. 5000 tệ transferred. 5000 tệ transferred.

My reply was truthful yet dramatic: “Hứa Giai’s parents died early, and she grew up with her grandmother. I heard her grandmother is seriously ill lately, and she doesn’t have money for the examination, so she has to run around working part-time everywhere. If someone can help her solve this worry, she will definitely be very grateful.”

Giang Tự’s bank card with 100,000 tệ for tutoring fees, and later, the electric bike that was hit by Trần Chi Luật’s Maybach on the way home. Both of them, following my instructions, tried to give me money in a legitimate, unrefusable way to increase their favorability.

I, the poor girl, had to pretend to refuse with great subtlety.

With Giang Tự:

• He offered the bank card as a tip. I refused, only taking a mint candy, giving him an innocent, gentle smile.

• He offered 100,000 tệ for one month of tutoring. I pretended to refuse, saying, “I only earned 3000 a month for tutoring before.” He frowned, revealing his spoiled-rich-kid personality, making the acceptance of the money seem reasonable.

With Trần Chi Luật:

• He got out of his car, bending down to gently ask about my condition when I pretended to be injured after the collision, even picking up my small plush cat.

• He shoved a bank card with 100,000 tệ into my hand for repairs. I stepped back, firmly refusing: “Since we are schoolmates, I absolutely cannot accept your money, but thank you for your kindness.”

Then, I deliberately fell to the ground, refusing his helping hand, my eyes reddened, tearfully speaking of the electric bike that had been with me for 10 years, full of deep affection and loyalty—something Trần Chi Luật, a child deprived of love, could not resist.

Trần Chi Luật in the Group, hurt: *“Waaah, she couldn’t even bear to replace that old electric bike that she’s had for 10 years. How can there be such a loyal and affectionate person in the world? I’m such an ******. I even asked her to replace it.”

I smirked. Trần Chi Luật’s mother died early, and his father married one woman after another. He couldn’t resist someone who valued deep, loyal affection.

The evening I tutored at Giang Tự’s house, I knew the script: He planned to stage a “Hero Saves the Beauty” scenario to win me over. More importantly, I knew Giang Tự suffered from Nyctophobia (fear of darkness) because he had been kidnapped and locked in a basement for three days and three nights.

After three hours of intense studying, I intentionally tapped his hand with a ruler, then immediately switched to an obedient, fragile expression to apologize.

Giang Tự messaged the group: “Oh my god, my own mother wouldn’t dare hit me. Hứa Giai hit me. I actually kind of liked it.”

Just then, all the lights in the villa went out.

Giang Tự in the Group: “Oh God, I forgot I’m afraid of the dark. Luckily, she’s here with me.”

I screamed in the darkness, trembling, and pressed myself against him. Feeling his heart pound with fear, I hugged him tightly, weakly crying and shaking, while secretly breaking the windowpane of the study’s balcony.

The sound of shattering glass rang out. Giang Tự trembled violently, suffering a PTSD relapse.

I hugged him, patting his back to comfort him: “Don’t be afraid, it’s just broken glass. I will protect you.”

Then, I walked towards the balcony, pretending to fight an intruder outside the window, shouting: “Who are you people? Stay away, don’t hurt my schoolmate Giang. Just aim for me!”

Finally, I screamed and pretended to faint.

When I woke up, the lights were on. The butler apologetically explained: “Young Master, you wouldn’t let me come up. You said you wanted to play ‘Hero Saves the Beauty.'”

Giang Tự rushed to me, looking horrified: “Are you okay, Hứa Giai? There was no one in the study, it was just the curtain, but still, thank you for protecting me.”

Giang Tự in the Group, 30.000 tệ transferred: “She’s only 166cm tall, less than 50kg, yet she dared to stand in front of me to protect me. It’s the first time I’ve met such a brave girl. If this isn’t love, what is it?”

Trần Chi Luật, using the information I deliberately leaked, brought a cardiology professor to my house to examine my grandmother. In return, I invited him to stay for a meal.

As Trần Chi Luật was devouring the sweet and sour ribs, my grandmother inadvertently revealed my tragic past: “Giai Giai’s parents died young. She had to learn to cook and take care of herself when she was five. She wasn’t even as tall as the stove back then.”

The ribs in Trần Chi Luật’s mouth suddenly became tasteless. He pursed his lips, looking like he was about to cry.

Then, I placed a prepared birthday cake on the table and smiled brightly: “Happy Birthday, Schoolmate Trần Chi Luật.”

Trần Chi Luật wept. His mother died early, his father was unloving, and no one had celebrated his birthday since his mother passed away. I had arrived at the most perfect moment.

Trần Chi Luật in the Group, sniffing: “Waaah, Hứa Giai’s food is delicious, and she even knew my birthday and celebrated it with me. Her house isn’t that bad… it’s small, messy, but everything essential is there. She asked me to stay the night, but I refused. A man has to pretend to refuse to increase his value. I think I have a chance.”

The two peacocks began to fan their tails, openly competing. Giang Tự dyed his hair black, removed his earrings, and sold his motorcycle. Trần Chi Luật personally washed clothes for me, made me a lunch box, and bought me ginger tea on the day of my period… All according to “Ex-Husband’s” instructions.

Two months passed. The money I had accumulated reached seven digits.

Just then, Tống Vũ Vi, the school’s cold and aloof beauty, who initiated the bet, appeared in the group. She scorned Giang Tự and Trần Chi Luật, asking “What are you doing?” and asserting: “She’s just pretending. Behind the scenes, she’s done everything.”

I quickly took screenshots of Tống Vũ Vi’s messages and continued the game.

I “accidentally” disclosed the address of the bar where I worked. That evening, I went to the bar and was blocked by a drunk man. Just then, Giang Tự appeared and hit him hard with a brick. When the situation was dire, Trần Chi Luật rushed in with his people.

At the police station, the drunk man confessed: “It was Miss Tống who paid us to cause trouble for her, and she told us to sleep with that girl…”

I smiled meaningfully. I, Hứa Giai, always repay a debt.

I gathered all the photos, and group chat screenshots, and posted them on the school forum with the headline: “Shocking! School Beauty Tống Hires Outsiders to Assault Someone, Complete with Evidence!”

Tống Vũ Vi quickly fell from grace, becoming the target of public outrage. As an adult, you must be responsible for your actions.

Giang Tự and Trần Chi Luật later sought me out to explain they weren’t that kind of person; they saw me as their best friend.

My eyes reddened, I rubbed my red nose, and my voice choked up: “Mmm, mmm, I know. You are my best friends; you wouldn’t lie to me. I’m just a little girl who truly wanted to make friends but was trapped in the dark.”

That night, Giang Tự and Trần Chi Luật had their biggest fight ever, exposing the derogatory comments they had made about me in the group:

Giang Tự: “You said a girl like Hứa Giai only deserves to be your maid.”

Trần Chi Luật: “You said a girl like Hứa Giai isn’t even worthy of being a footnote in your textbook.”

I, counting the long string of numbers on the bank card, prepared my study abroad application. My grandmother’s heart condition had improved significantly, and I had enough money to take her abroad for better treatment.

It was time to end the farce.

Ex-Husband: “Actually, you two don’t need to fight anymore. Hứa Giai won’t like either of you.”

Ex-Husband: “Do you know why she broke up with me five years ago but hasn’t dated anyone else? It’s because she still loves me. If you don’t believe me, look at her personal signature.”

I had changed my status a month ago: I will always wait for you. LT

LT – my name is Lục Tầm.

The moment they saw the personal signature, Giang Tự and Trần Chi Luật completely collapsed.

The game they thought was flawless had ultimately trapped only themselves.