The end-of-class bell rang. Autumn had arrived. The sky was already tinged with the rosy hue of dawn, the colors deepening from orange to a soft red, casting a golden light. The morning glow and the lingering sunset hues mingled, painting the sky with fading brilliance.
Song Yan tidied his books and walked out of the classroom.
The young man was dressed in a blue and white school uniform. His hair was jet black, and his profile was fair and handsome, his lips always curved in a gentle smile.
He walked down the hallway, bathed in the golden light of the morning glow, drawing the attention of those around him.
His sleeves were rolled up slightly, revealing a section of his wrist. His fingers were long and slender, each joint clearly defined.
As he exited the teaching building, his phone vibrated twice in his pocket. Song Yan casually pulled it out and glanced at it. The warmth in his eyes instantly plummeted.
His expression shifted rapidly, eventually settling into a stony pallor. However, he didn't let it show too obviously, merely furrowing his brow as if suppressing a torrent of rage.
He dialed a number. After several rings, just as Song Yan’s patience was about to run out, the call was slowly connected.
The person on the other end remained silent. Song Yan said nothing either. They seemed to be in a silent standoff, but eventually, Song Yan broke the silence.
“What exactly do you want?”
His voice was laced with ice, sending a chill down one’s spine.
A soft and sweet voice replied from the other end of the line, “I don’t want anything. Come to the sports equipment room. I want to see you.”
Her voice was lingering and saccharine, like sweet preserved fruit, coiling around his heart like silk.
Song Yan’s face was expressionless, his demeanor somber, his eyes filling with frost. “Do you think this photo can threaten me?”
Hearing his words, the girl on the other end of the line seemed to chuckle. Her laughter made the veins on Song Yan’s forehead throb.
“You don’t have to come. If you don’t, I’ll post this photo on the forum. Qing Zhen will definitely see it. I wonder if she’ll be sad…”
Like poisoned honey, she feigned a hushed tone, yet her words were laced with amusement.
No one ever had—
No one had ever dared to be so audacious. Shen Yue had truly pushed him to his limit.
He hung up the phone, clutching it tightly, his fingertips turning white, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
—
The sports equipment room was dimly lit. A few rays of the morning glow streamed through the window, illuminating the fine dust particles suspended in the air.
Song Yan walked in and closed the door.
The click of the latch was exceptionally jarring in the silent space.
Then came his steady footsteps.
The girl was sitting on a mat, looking bored. Upon seeing the boy’s tall figure, she smiled, her eyes crinkling, a dimple appearing on her cheek.
As if unfazed by Song Yan’s grim and ashen face, she beckoned him affectionately, “Come sit here.”
Her back was to the morning glow, her hair catching layers of golden light. Her dark, clear eyes were like the transparent lake of early spring. Her delicate and beautiful features made everything else pale in comparison.
She appeared so demure, so innocent, yet her heart was already utterly corrupted.
He looked down at Shen Yue, who was sitting on the mat, his eyes dark and unfathomable, devoid of emotion.
He calmly lowered his gaze.
“Delete the photo.”
The smile on Shen Yue’s face faded slightly. Her dark, moist eyes, like a lost fawn in a crowd, seemed to hold a hint of helplessness. “Are you going to talk about this as soon as you get here? Little Yan, you dislike being with me that much?”
Her eyes, seeming to well up with tears, looked incredibly vulnerable, as if she were the victim.
Even though he knew she was feigning helplessness, Song Yan’s mind faltered for a moment, followed by a surge of intense anger. His brows furrowed deeper, his expression growing more ominous.
He spoke through gritted teeth, “Shen Yue, what are you still pretending for? Are you clinging onto me? Doesn’t Jiang Wei satisfy you alone? If you don’t find this disgusting, I do.”
He had rarely been so enraged. The surging anger battered his heart. He clenched his fists uncontrollably, his fingertips digging into his flesh.
Shen Yue looked at him, her full, vibrant lips curving into a smile that seemed to hold more than just amusement.
She tilted her head and asked, “I’m disgusting?”
He rolled his dark pupils, staring at her intently, remaining silent.
But his eyes conveyed everything. A profound sense of disgust and indifference seemed to spill out.
Shen Yue stood up. She raised her head and, without warning, stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed his lips.
The soft touch was fleeting, carrying a faint fragrance.
Song Yan’s pupils contracted sharply, his body jolting. He stared with wide, disbelieving eyes.
The next moment, his face tensed, his dark eyes like a brewing undercurrent of a raging storm.
He stared intently at the girl before him.
The girl smiled at him, her eyes crinkling, her expression captivating. She was like a mesmerizingly beautiful Lycoris radiata blooming in the depths of hell.
The beauty mark on her nose made her look even more enchanting.
She appeared innocently naive, yet exuded a peculiar, sinister aura.
She stood on tiptoe, their faces very close. Song Yan could see the girl’s long, thick eyelashes, like butterflies preparing to take flight.
With every breath, a faint, sweet fragrance emanated from her. It was sweet and pleasant, and even more potent up close.
Her lips were not only soft but also fragrant, stirring the most wicked desires deep within one’s heart.
This was a sensation Song Yan remembered.
His head felt hazy. It was strange. He hadn’t been drinking this time, so why was he experiencing such an unbidden heat and desire?
Her dark, moist eyes gazed into Song Yan’s, bottomless and profound, as if she had already seen through the darkness hidden in the most shadowed corners of his heart.
“Do I still disgust you?”
His body felt as if it were on fire, a tingling sensation spreading throughout him. He stood rigidly, his fingers clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
His Adam's apple bobbed dryly, uncontrollably.
Shen Yue’s eyes curved slightly, revealing a pure yet alluring smile. “Why aren’t you speaking? Does it feel good?”
The veins on his forehead throbbed fiercely. As if trying to cover his ears, he tightly pursed his thin lips into a straight line.
Standing on tiptoe, Shen Yue leaned close to his ear and gently pecked his reddened earlobe.
This simple action caused Song Yan’s breathing to become heavy. His eyes were dark and unreadable, like a deep pool hidden from the sun.
He raised his hand, then let it fall, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“I can make you feel even better.”
Her words were suggestive, intimate, and seductive, like a bewitching ghost.
His breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving violently. His rapidly beating heart felt as if it would leap out of his chest.