Shen Leyuan had been dodging Di Junya for seven or eight days straight.
Not only did he avoid going home, but he also steered clear of Di Junya at school as much as possible. He even negotiated with his professors to skip a few classes. But Di Junya clung too tightly—not every attempt succeeded.
Some professors knew Di Junya well. When they saw him loitering to intercept someone, they’d frown, glance at the Shen-surnamed student in class who was diligently taking notes and oblivious to the visitor, then wave a big hand and tell the students to discuss among themselves. The professor would step out personally to chat with Di Junya.
The core message: There are plenty of other flowers out there—why fixate on my student?
Di Junya smiled bitterly. “Feelings aren’t that simple.”
Under the professor’s disapproving gaze, he lowered his eyes slightly, hiding the chill in them, and thought obsessively: Why? Why am I the only one hated this much?
The classroom buzzed with excitement. The students weren’t discussing the assignment—they were gossiping about the guy outside.
The center of the chatter hadn’t even noticed, until a classmate patted him twice. Only then did he look up in confusion.
The professor was talking to Di Junya—probably convincing him. The handsome, refined young man nodded and glanced toward the class. He was a bit too far away for his expression to be clear.
That evening, Di Junya sent a message: he’d be moving out tomorrow.
“Can you come back today?”
He sounded utterly pitiful. “There might be a misunderstanding between us. I want to talk it out seriously with you.”
After pondering for a long time, Shen Leyuan replied: 【Sure】
Di Junya ordered a full table of dishes delivered upstairs. He let the staff in to set everything up—beer, baijiu, and red wine stacked three cases high. He sat nearby, watching coldly as he toyed with a signal jammer, a small syringe, and a vial of sedative.
I’m done for, Di Junya thought in a daze.
The basement stuff had been discovered. His superiors were debating his fate. A colleague had whispered that he’d been added to the high-risk list. Shen Leyuan had even submitted multiple requests for his reassignment.
At first, it was just curiosity—treating the guy as a toy to pass the time. But every reaction caught him off guard. Now, roles might reverse: he’d become the lab rat, the pitiful thing controlled by someone else.
In his hatred, Di Junya thought: He hasn’t even manipulated me.
More humiliating and infuriating than becoming a lab rat was that Shen Leyuan showed zero interest in him. He found him an eyesore, wanted him gone—like he wasn’t even worthy of being an experimental subject.
Affection was impossible. Shen Leyuan would never like him.
But loathing?
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Di Junya pocketed the jammer and syringe, greeting Shen Leyuan cautiously and smoothly taking the books from his hands.
Shen Leyuan was truly done with him.
The guy had histrionic tendencies—turning normal chores into a Cinderella sob story.
At least he’d be free tomorrow.
Sitting at the table, Shen Leyuan pushed the alcohol aside. “I’ve got class tomorrow. No drinking.” As if he’d touch Di Junya’s booze?
“A little won’t hurt,” Di Junya coaxed softly.
His face held no smile, just deep melancholy. “The higher-ups might transfer me out. Who knows when we’ll meet again? Let’s get properly drunk tonight, yeah?”
Shen Leyuan latched onto the odd detail. “Who told you you’re being transferred?”
Is that something you can just spill?
Di Junya was used to his knack for zeroing in. No anger this time—he casually handed over a beer. “Drink a few with me? I’ll tell you after.”
Huo Tingfeng couldn’t take it anymore. He wedged himself between them, face cold. “What stunt are you pulling now?”
Di Junya scoffed, downing the bottle himself. Eyes reddening, he locked gazes with Huo Tingfeng and sneered sharply. “You’re just a dog chasing rabbits. Once this rabbit’s chased off, you won’t fare much better!”
He choked up mid-sentence, then accused Shen Leyuan. “You’re playing double standards. You’re nicer to strangers than to me—not a shred of kindness for me.”
Shen Leyuan nodded. “Yeah.”
Di Junya faltered, at a loss for words—or maybe drowning his sorrows. He cracked another bottle and chugged it, heedless of whether it was beer or liquor, clearly aiming to get blackout drunk.
Shen Leyuan watched warily, fearing a drunken meltdown.
But Di Junya didn’t snap. He grabbed Shen Leyuan’s hand, pressing it to his own face, pleading pitifully. “Can’t you be a little nice to me? Just a little… I only need a little…”
Only two days left until the one-month deadline.
If Di Junya was leaving tomorrow, explaining early might work—but would it give him hope, making him cling harder?
Lost in thought halfway, Shen Leyuan suddenly saw Di Junya yanked away.
Huo Tingfeng, face grim, dragged the drunkard to a room and warned Shen Leyuan. “Don’t drink. Don’t touch the food he ordered either. Something’s off with this guy—God knows what he spiked it with.”
As he headed inside, he missed the small open vial by Shen Leyuan’s feet, faint wisps of fragrance wafting out. He also missed the glint of the needle tip between Di Junya’s fingers.
Minutes later, Di Junya emerged from his room, locked the door, and smiled at Shen Leyuan. “Mr. Huo’s asleep. Want me to help you to your room?”
Shen Leyuan wasn’t on the sofa or at the table—he was by the door.
The moment exhaustion hit and his strength faded, he knew something was wrong. He bolted for the door, but the drug spread too fast. He staggered from the sofa, struggled to the door, vision blacking out as he collapsed.
Di Junya loomed over him, eyes devoid of triumph—only deep disgust welled up.
How did I become like this?
The young man’s eyes were hazy, showing unprecedented frailty and vulnerability—like he could be utterly dominated. Di Junya’s racing thoughts halted. A twisted thrill heated his body, fingers trembling faintly.
“I’ll help you to your room,” he repeated, tone now an unyielding statement.
Shen Leyuan’s vision whitened, breaths ragged, but he heard the voice.
He tried to shake off Di Junya’s hand, but mustering all his strength only lifted a fingertip. His voice was barely audible. “Don’t… do something… you’ll regret…”
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
Di Junya laid him on the bed, leaning close with a mocking hum. “You think I want to fuck you?”
He pinched Shen Leyuan’s cheek, twisting the skin red.
“No way! Impossible! I hate you!” he spat through gritted teeth. “I have zero desire for you. Seeing you just makes me wonder what’s under your skin—what makes your body different from a normal person’s!”
He… doesn’t like me…
He hates me?
Shen Leyuan stared dazedly at Di Junya, a surge of inexplicable joy rising in his heart.
He parted his lips but made no sound. Yet a faint smile crept onto them unbidden. Good. He doesn’t like me.
Di Junya froze at the smile, pinching harder in fury. “Don’t seduce me!”
Shen Leyuan: …
No—the common thread isn’t that you all like me. It’s that you all think I’m seducing you?
Powerless, he tilted his face aside, using the momentum to slip free. The spot pinched red stung; at a glance, it looked like it’d been sucked, flushed erotically.
Di Junya gripped his chin, forcing eye contact.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” His half-long hair disheveled, expression near-mad, unaware of it himself. He grinned. “I’m going to cut open your chest—let you see for yourself what your heart looks like.”
Shen Leyuan jolted in horror.
Beyond that, an eerie sense of déjà vu hit.
Like this happened long ago—strapped to a dissection table, waiting for chest flesh to be sliced open, a lamb to slaughter.
Panic ebbed, replaced by profound doubt.
Di Junya’s alcohol-fueled heat surged; his fingers were warm as he slowly unbuttoned the clothes beneath him—like unwrapping his gift.
He’s mine now.
I can do anything to him.
The blade slid across his chest, icy and piercing. Shen Leyuan’s throat bobbed; he closed his eyes.
My life is over.
Memories since transmigrating flashed by: Lin Yao and Little Deer; Lin Yuan, recently learning honesty but still off-kilter; Huo Tingfeng, fate unknown. His life replayed like a montage, until finally—
Director Hao.
He thought: If I’d known, I’d have been more honest!
I come from another world—that’s still unrevealed. Some dreams are weird; I haven’t sorted them. I suspect Huo Tingfeng was once my Huihui—we haven’t talked openly.
And after I die, who’ll look after Little Deer?
But pain never came. Instead, his chin was gripped tight. Di Junya demanded madly, enraged. “Why won’t you look at me?”
“Am I so disgusting you won’t even glance?!”
He stared at the young man before him, thrill of control mingling with rage at the loathing. His grip tightened, fingertips digging into soft, cool cheeks.
That face was fair and handsome; the pinched spots swelled red.
But the parted lips were pale. Di Junya’s gaze lingered, recalling every venomous word from that mouth.
He rubbed hard, impulse to bite surging—hypnotized, he leaned down slowly.
Smack!
A heavy thud against glass. Di Junya glared at the window. Huo Tingfeng clung to the sill, foot likely on the AC unit outside, smashing furiously in rage.
A dangerous perch—one shove…
Di Junya instinctively moved toward it.
But no— a falling corpse would draw the bodyguards here.
He halted, reason reclaiming dominance.
Beneath reason: uncontainable fury. Huo Tingfeng resists regular sedatives? Even the mix only knocks him out for ten minutes?
Fine by me. Di Junya smiled sinisterly.
Now it’s Huo Tingfeng’s turn to watch.
He returned lightly to Shen Leyuan’s side, glancing at the windowed Huo Tingfeng without guilt, and leaned down to kiss.
Inopportunely, as lips neared: not revenge’s pleasure or flaunting thrill, but: This is my first kiss…
His too?
Crash!
Glass shattered everywhere. Huo Tingfeng lunged in fury.
Weak as he was, the canon-top martial artist traded evenly with Di Junya. Burning red in his eyes threatened to ignite all; fists thudded into flesh with teeth-gritting dull thumps.
Di Junya had overestimated himself—beaten without retaliation.
Head ringing, a long gash from forehead to cheek from glass. Another hammer to the skull, and he slumped, neck limp, out cold.
Huo Tingfeng’s crimson eyes kept pounding—until a soft hum reached his ears.
Shen Leyuan turned his face slightly, eyes full of worry.
Too long.
This gaze—it’s been too long.
He staggered to his beloved, trembling fingers stroking his cheek, choking out. “Sorry…”
Promised to protect you, but failed. Sorry.
Shen Leyuan parted his lips, laboring “It’s okay,” then nuzzled his palm against his cheek.
His face was wet—is that blood?
It was blood.
Huo Tingfeng’s own, and Di Junya’s.
Huo Tingfeng tried wiping it clean, but couldn’t. Choking, lost in frenzy, he mumbled deliriously. “Sorry… sorry… sorry…”
Shen Leyuan nuzzled again, rasping a reminder. “Call the cops.”
Huo Tingfeng snapped awake, fumbling shakily for his phone—halfway, he recalled trying in the next room. Signal jammed.
He turned unsteadily, aiming to search Di Junya.
But the bastard was gone from the floor?
Di Junya stood nearby, grinning eerily. As Huo lunged, he slammed the door shut, locking them inside.
The blood loss and pain chased away his drunken haze. Seething with hatred, he rummaged through the items he had prepared that day.
A low dose of sedative for Shen Leyuan. An aphrodisiac-laced version for Huo Tingfeng. And the volatile aphrodisiac he had inexplicably whipped up while lost in thoughts of Shen Leyuan.
Di Junya stared at it for a moment, then calmly carried it into the room.
He would make Shen Leyuan remember him forever.
Even if they became lovers someday, they would never forget him—the outsider—for the rest of their lives!
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