Spoiled By the Young Master After Reborn In the 80s

Lu Hanmo finished his meal and stepped out of the canteen when a young lad ran up to him, handing him a package, "Instructor, you have a package."

He took the package with a hint of confusion, but seeing the sender's name on it, a shallow arc formed at the corner of Lu Hanmo's lips. It was from that girl. Thinking back to what his mother mentioned on the phone yesterday, he decided to visit Luo Shu in town tomorrow to inquire about the Ginseng matter.

Carrying the package, he returned to his dormitory.

Lu Hanmo unwrapped the package layer by layer, and the fragrance of food wafted into his nostrils.

When the package was fully opened, a letter and something wrapped in brown paper were revealed—the aroma came from that brown paper package.

Curling the corners of his lips, Lu Hanmo picked up the letter, opened it, and unfolded the paper, surprised to see the beautifully neat and delicate handwriting. He didn't expect the girl to have such good penmanship.

Brother Lu,

Thank you for your help the other day. I didn't know how else to express my gratitude, so I made some food for you, hoping you wouldn't mind. Please try it and, if you like it, feel free to write back to me.

Luo Shu.

After pocketing the letter, Lu Hanmo opened up the brown paper package to find golden fried meatballs, his favorite. As a child visiting his grandmother's house, she would often make these meatballs for him.

With a slight smile, he picked up a meatball and popped it into his mouth. Even though the meatball had cooled down, it was still delicious, and thanks to the shredded radish inside, it didn't feel greasy.

"Lu Hanmo, are you planning to hog all of this to yourself?" A teasing voice came from the doorway.

A young man walked in, his features sharp and handsome—especially when he smiled, his eyes seemed to carry a captivating charm. Compared to Lu Hanmo's firm and serious demeanor, laced with an intense aura of restraint, it was a stark contrast.

Mo Shaoze sat down across from Lu Hanmo and unabashedly grabbed a meatball and tossed it into his mouth, chewing as he said, "The taste isn't bad, would be even better if it were hot."

"What brings you here?" Lu Hanmo asked flatly. Mo Shaoze had been his close friend since childhood; they'd grown up together in the same compound, causing mischief, attending school, and later coming to the base together—they were practically inseparable. Now, Mo Shaoze, like him, was an instructor at the base.

Mo Shaoze grabbed another meatball and grimaced as he said, "I need to make a trip back to Jinchen. Do you have time to join me?"

Lu Hanmo raised his eyebrows slightly, "Another matchmaking session?" Mo Shaoze was regularly called back by his family for matchmaking attempts—it had become routine for him.

"What else could it be?" Mo Shaoze said, popping another meatball into his mouth, "I'm only twenty-three, in the prime of my youth; why the rush? Besides, with my looks, could I possibly not find a wife?" Unlike him, Lu Hanmo's family had never pressured him into finding a partner.

Lu Hanmo chuckled but said nothing. The Mo Family was hasty in arranging dates for Mo Shaoze because of his exceptional popularity among the ladies at the base, often leading to jealous quarrels and fights.

Mo Shaoze slapped Lu Hanmo's shoulder, "Give me an answer, are you coming home with me or not?"

Lu Hanmo dusted off Mo Shaoze's hand and glanced at the grease mark on his shoulder, shaking his head helplessly, "I'm busy with something else." He was slightly obsessive about cleanliness; if Mo Shaoze weren't his brother, he would've tossed him out already.

"What could be more important than your buddy here? Don't tell me you've finally come to your senses and want to find a woman too?" Mo Shaoze looked at Lu Hanmo with a gossip-hungry gaze. He knew Lu Hanmo better than anyone else—no one other than his family and Mo Shaoze could get within three steps of Lu Hanmo. Despite the fact that several female comrades at the base secretly fancied Lu Hanmo, they were met with his cold demeanor.

"I'm not you," said Lu Hanmo, looking at Mo Shaoze as if he was looking at something distasteful.

"Come on! What's with that look? You've annoyed me. I want a spar," Mo Shaoze said, already swinging a quick kick towards Lu Hanmo.

Lu Hanmo was quick to dodge as Mo Shaoze's foot aimed at him, whilst reaching for Mo Shaoze's shoulder at the same time.

Dodging to the side, Mo Shaoze narrowly avoided Lu Hanmo's grasp and aimed a punch at his jaw.

Lu Hanmo's hand shot out lightning-fast to block Mo Shaoze's punch, his elbow bent, and he struck swiftly, fiercely, and accurately at Mo Shaoze's chest.

Their sparring became more intense until they stopped, breathless. Seeing each other's disheveled appearance, they couldn't help but laugh out loud. The pain from the bruises, however, made them wince. Such was their way of interacting—fists and kicks in place of disagreements. Yet, the deeper they fought, the deeper their friendship grew.

After setting the chair he had knocked over back in place, Mo Shaoze sat down and looked at Lu Hanmo, who had also taken a seat, "Spill it, what's going on."

"I don't feel like telling you," said Lu Hanmo with a smirk.

"Lu Hanmo, are you looking for another round?" Mo Shaoze narrowed his eyes and lazily threatened.

"Scared? Bring it on!" Lu Hanmo said nonchalantly.

"You win!" Mo Shaoze conceded with a grumble. His eyes caught sight of the meatballs on the table, sparking a light in his eyes, "I've got it! These meatballs were definitely gifted by some girl. Confess, which girl is it?" No wonder Lu Hanmo had been so protective over the meatballs during their fight, ensuring they didn't roll off the table.

Lu Hanmo glanced at Mo Shaoze with disinterest, walked over to the wardrobe, took out a shirt, and headed towards the bathroom. He didn't know why he felt compelled to guard those meatballs—perhaps he didn't want Luo Shu's efforts to go to waste.

Thinking of Luo Shu's eyes that shone like bright stars, Lu Hanmo couldn't help but form a gentle smile on his lips.

Mo Shaoze withheld his gaze and turned his attention to the meatballs on the table, a fox-like grin spreading across his face.