The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled-Chapter 209: The Perfect Play
Angry?
Julian secretly found the mere thought to be both baffling and utterly laughable. He could not help but wonder what deeply distorted version of this real and fake young master saga was currently circulating through the gossiping mouths of this university. Do not tell him that in these wild rumors, he had been painted as the wicked, rebellious son who only knew how to bring disaster and endless headaches to his unfortunate parents.
However, Julian could not be bothered to offer any corrections. He rolled his eyes in the privacy of his own mind, acutely aware of the numerous curious and pitying gazes converging on him from every corner of the classroom. Taking advantage of the moment, he lowered his head even further, deliberately cultivating an atmosphere of profound gloom. The slender shoulders of the young man even gave a slight, fragile tremble as if he were desperately trying to suppress a tidal wave of emotion. When he finally spoke, his voice was choked with aggrieved sorrow: "I know. How could anyone possibly compare a capable, truly outstanding individual who has always been the pride of the family like Aaron, to a lost child who had to scrape by on the unforgiving streets for over a decade? I did not even have enough food to eat or warm clothes to wear. After all my struggles, my only decent skill is a meager talent for drawing. It is only natural that they would reserve all of their love and affection entirely for Aaron."
"Every family has a child who is favored and one who is despised, that is simply human nature. It is just... if only they had left me to my fate back then. If they had not gone through the trouble of searching for me and bringing me home, only to be bitterly disappointed, then perhaps things would not have deteriorated to such a terrible state..." Julian’s voice was now thoroughly steeped in bitterness and heartache, sounding exactly as if a single additional word would cause his tears to finally spill over. He hesitated for a long, drawn-out moment, pausing so heavily that Kian, who was standing right beside him, could clearly hear his deep, suppressed breaths.
Only after a long while did Julian seem to regain a fragile semblance of calm. He whispered softly: "Forget it, I have absolutely nothing to do with them anymore. If they want me to play the villain, if they wish to pin every sin and fault onto my head, then I will simply accept it. I will consider it my final way of repaying them for the grace of giving me life. Thank you for standing by my side today. If you will excuse me, I need to leave first."
As soon as those words left his lips, Julian hurriedly swept his remaining miscellaneous items off the desk and shoved them into his backpack. Without another word, he hastily turned his back and ran away, looking for all the world like a broken soul desperate to escape reality. The only image left burned into the minds of everyone in the classroom was the sight of a young man, burdened by a heavy backpack, sprinting out the door with his head bowed low. That solitary, fleeting silhouette seemed to carry an insurmountable weight of unspoken grievances and psychological torment.
Yet, only Julian himself knew the truth. The real reason he ran with his head bowed so low was simply that he did not want the surrounding crowd to catch a glimpse of the meaningful, cunning smirk curving the corners of his lips. He had to admit, his performance in this little theatrical play was not bad at all. And almost immediately after Julian’s shadow darted past the classroom door, the tall man who had been silently observing the entire spectacle from the outside corridor swiftly followed close behind him.
It was not until Julian reached a deserted, quiet turning point near the stairwell that he finally began to slow his pace to regulate his breathing. The person trailing him quickly closed the distance and came to a halt by his side.
"Young master, are we heading directly home now, or shall we go to CEO Ethan Caldwell’s office?" The man approached and bowed his head respectfully to ask for instructions. His demeanor was one of absolute servitude, completely devoid of any curiosity regarding the dramatic incident that had just unfolded inside the classroom.
"To the Caldwell Empire."
Julian answered smoothly as he adjusted his stride, heading purposefully toward the university gates where their car was waiting. This man was none other than the professional bodyguard and private driver whom Ethan Caldwell had personally arranged to protect him around the clock.
That was precisely why earlier, even with the sheer number of followers forming an intimidating crowd behind Vince Sutton, Julian had not felt the slightest ripple of fear. First of all, he was highly capable in a fight and possessed excellent self-defense skills; it was highly unlikely that a group of pampered rich boys, who were all bark and no bite, could actually best him in a physical altercation. Secondly, they were currently standing on a university campus, and not just any campus, but the highly prestigious St. Lawrence University. No one was stupid enough to blatantly instigate a massive group brawl on school grounds and risk immediate expulsion.
Third, and perhaps most importantly, his elite bodyguard had been standing nearby the entire time. A man professionally trained by top-tier institutions would never fail to protect him.
In truth, from the very second Vince Sutton began to stir up trouble, Julian had caught a fleeting glimpse of his bodyguard preparing to step in and intervene. However, Julian had subtly signaled the man to stand down and observe, not wanting a premature rescue to completely ruin his carefully orchestrated plan.
Furthermore, Julian was absolutely certain that every single detail of what he had just experienced at the university had already been meticulously reported, word for word, to Ethan Caldwell. That worked out perfectly for him. It saved him the exhausting effort of having to file a lengthy complaint or explain the situation himself. Now, all he had to do was arrive at his destination, put on a slightly melancholic expression, and he would effortlessly receive the older man’s undivided care and attention.
