Chapter 17: Chapter 17 — Why Is This Little Scoundrel Everywhere?

Corvin did not linger for long.

Once the fledglings entered the Military Academy, they were expected to be independent. Any child still clinging to their parents at this point would only become the subject of ridicule.

That was the rule, though in truth, this was the first time most of them had ever left home. Many hung their heads, surreptitiously wiping away tears.

Before leaving, Corvin had intended to offer his young lady a few words of encouragement. But when he turned back for one last look, the sight that greeted him made him pause.

There she was—leaning lazily against her suitcase like some street delinquent, arms crossed, one leg stretched out and the other casually bent, her entire posture brimming with insolent ease.

When she noticed him glance her way, she tilted her head slightly and bared her fangs in a mocking grin.

Corvin fell silent.

…Yes. That was their young lady. Unmistakably so.

Chloe pushed herself off the suitcase only after Corvin’s figure had fully disappeared from sight. Stretching languidly, she yawned. “Finally gone. When do we board?”

Anderson glanced down at the ticket in his hand. “Half an hour.”

Half an hour—not long, yet not short enough to simply idle away. The thought of waiting around made Chloe restless.

She was just wondering how to kill time when her sharp eyes caught sight of someone in the crowd.

The boy had hair of gleaming gold—one of the few, aside from her and Anderson, who wasn’t crying.

At the moment, he was holding a handkerchief, gently wiping the tears from a girl’s cheeks, his lips moving in what was clearly an attempt to comfort her.

Chloe frowned. Him?

The girl’s expression was one of visible distaste. Anderson followed Chloe’s line of sight, and his gaze fell upon the golden-haired boy not far away.

As if sensing their attention, the boy turned—and met Chloe’s eyes. His were a vivid blue, bright as the summer sea.

Instantly, Chloe spun around, trying to hide behind her suitcase.

Too late. He had already recognized her.

The boy abandoned the weeping girl mid-sentence and ran toward her, excitement written all over his face.

“Miss Chloe! What a surprise to see you here! What a wonderful coincidence!”

He seemed entirely oblivious to Anderson’s presence—his gaze fixed solely on her.

Chloe’s face darkened, her tone flat and chilly. “...Avi.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Indeed, it was him—Avi, her classmate from both kindergarten and elementary school. The same little scoundrel who’d somehow managed to have three girlfriends before the age of six.

Now taller and leaner, he had lost all his childhood baby fat. Once sturdy for his age, he now stood even taller than most boys his age.

His golden hair was slightly darker than Anderson’s, and his clothes were flamboyant—a young rake in the making.

A crooked, cocky grin tugged at his lips. “Well, well, Miss Chloe still remembers me. What an honor.”

“If I’m not mistaken, we saw each other just last week at school,” Chloe replied coolly. “My memory isn’t that bad.”

“Ah, naturally,” Avi said with an exaggerated sigh. “But I’ve missed you terribly. A single day apart feels like three long autumns.”

Chloe rolled her eyes without restraint. “Spare me. Stay away, I don’t feel like arguing.”

“Anderson, take the luggage and board.”

Anderson lifted both suitcases with a curt nod. “Yes.”

Only then did Avi finally notice the boy standing beside her.

The other’s frame was equally tall—perhaps even slightly taller—and that alone pricked Avi’s fragile pride.

At the same time, he found himself squinting thoughtfully. Why does he look a little like my cousin?

By the time he finished that idle thought, Chloe was already walking toward the boarding gate. Avi hurried after her.

By some twist of fate, their seats on the plane were quite close. Avi’s seat was directly behind hers.

He was thrilled.

Truth be told, Avi himself didn’t quite understand why he was so obsessed with Chloe. There were plenty of beautiful girls out there—sweet, gentle, compliant—but for some reason, it was this sharp-tongued, strong-fisted girl who held his attention.

He could still remember vividly the punch she’d landed on his stomach when they were five. It had hurt—a deep, breathtaking pain that left him dazed.

The first thing he saw when his vision cleared was her pale, beautiful face—and that was it. His world had changed.

From that moment, Avi had been hopelessly smitten.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from flirting with other girls.

He tapped on the back of Chloe’s seat, quietly at first, then more insistently when she ignored him.

Finally, she lost patience. Turning around, she bared her fangs in warning.

She wasn’t wearing her bite guard. Three sharp teeth glinted beneath her upper lip—one slightly chipped, but still menacingly sharp. Her eyes glowed faintly crimson.

Avi instantly recoiled, his earlier swagger vanishing as he remembered the terror of being pinned to the ground by her fists.

“D-don’t get mad! I just wanted to give you something!” he stammered.

Chloe’s voice was cold. “Don’t bother me.”

“It’s something good! You’ll like it!” Avi protested, trembling as he fished a small, neatly wrapped box from his pocket and offered it eagerly.

The box was delicate, its weight substantial.

Chloe studied him for a moment, then took it.

But when she saw the printed label, her expression froze—and then darkened.

“You call this a gift? A box of milk sticks?”

Indeed, it was a box of the blood-infused milk sticks currently popular among vampires—advertised as luxurious, absurdly expensive, and capable of sustaining one’s hunger for three days.

The look Chloe gave him could have withered flowers.

But Avi puffed up his chest with misplaced pride. “This really is a good thing! You don’t know yet, do you? The instructors at the First Military Academy are brutal! They’ll put us through a month-long survival camp where we get only one bun and a bowl of porridge per meal—and we’ll have to sleep on iron beds!”

He spoke with the gravitas of a prophet. “When that happens, we just hide these milk sticks! One stick keeps you full for three days. You’ll thank me later!”

Chloe hesitated. “...Seriously?”

“Seriously!” Avi swore, raising three fingers to the sky. “If I’m lying, may every beautiful girl in this world ignore me forever!”

It was, in fact, a truly cruel curse for him. Chloe decided he must be telling the truth.

Turning around, she opened the box. Inside were four packs, each containing five milk sticks.

She took out two packs and handed them to Anderson. “Here. Take these.”

She had always shared everything with Anderson—it was a habit formed over seven years. To her, it was natural.

But from Avi’s vantage point behind them, the gesture looked… unusual.

He frowned, curiosity stirring.

Who on earth is this Anderson?

And why does Chloe—of all people—choose to share her milk sticks with him?