Chapter 6: The Arrogant and Domineering Fake Young Master 06 Part 2

Li Ye’s lips curved slightly. His gaze rested on Shen Ji, and without looking up, he said, “You lot can go.”

Wang Shao’s smile froze on his face. Li Ye hadn’t named names, but he knew it was directed at him. Why send them away? Just because Shen Ji had shown up? What was so special about this brat that Li Ye cared this much? A guy like this—just beat him up and throw him out, wasn’t that enough?

God, he was an eyesore.

Wang Shao’s gaze slid venomously over Shen Ji, but in the end he didn’t defy Li Ye. He shot the other underlings a look, and they filed out of the room.

Li Ye looked down at Shen Ji, chin propped on one hand, gaze thoughtful.

Worthy of a Child of the Plane—able to bend and stretch. Adjusted this fast.

But that calm expression… he didn’t like it.

Li Ye chuckled softly and set his foot on Shen Ji’s thigh. The toe of his shoe slid slowly upward, settled somewhere, and pressed down—gently, grinding.

Shen Ji’s expression changed abruptly.

Shame and fury flooded his eyes. He clenched his jaw. Despite his desperate restraint, his breathing grew heavy, out of control.

The air conditioning was on, and it was already late autumn—yet every breath he drew was scorching. Heat coiled low in his belly like a fire, setting his insides ablaze.

Shen Ji shut his eyes. His fists were clenched so hard the veins stood out on the backs of his hands.

Don’t move, his reason told him. Just endure. You still need the money…

He’s only trying to humiliate you…

Time crawled by, second by second.

It took every ounce of Shen Ji’s strength to maintain the false mask—and then, out of nowhere, he heard a soft laugh.

“Look at me.”

That laugh was like a feather brushing across his heart, the barbed tip hooking in and pulling—a dull, tingling ache spreading through his whole body.

Shen Ji’s head lifted instinctively.

He met a pair of curved, smiling eyes—lovely, captivating. The young man’s pale lips were full and shapely, still wet from the water he’d just drunk, glistening like rain longed for by a parched man, tempting someone to taste.

The young man’s tone was innocent, almost artless, as he leaned in with a smile and asked, “What’s wrong? Feeling hot?”

In that instant—

Everything Shen Ji had been crushing down surged back like a returning tide, a thousand times more irresistible, and swept him under completely.

A low sound rasped from Shen Ji’s throat. The violent part of him buried deep in his chest nearly broke free. Greed and hunger crept to the surface. His bloodshot eyes fixed on the person before him, his precarious reason teetering on the edge of snapping—

Then a glass of ice water splashed over his head.

Li Ye still held his arm up, tipping the glass slowly. He looked down at Shen Ji from on high, expression flat and indifferent. “Disgusting.”

Shen Ji’s face went pale. All color drained away.

Li Ye withdrew his gaze coolly, set down the glass, and walked right past him out of the room.

The room was empty now.

But Shen Ji stayed where he was, head bowed, motionless. Ice water dripped from his hair, slid down his sharp jaw, and soaked into his collar. The chill drove off the heat that had nowhere to go.

Now that he was fully cooled and clear-headed, he didn’t even dare recall how wretched he’d just looked—what had made Li Ye say that.

Disgusting, was it…

Shen Ji’s chest heaved violently. He tugged at the corner of his mouth. Time ticked by. Only when his breathing had completely evened out did he slowly rise, and—paying no mind to his bedraggled state—push open the door and walk out.

It had been afternoon when he arrived.

Now it was night.

Moonlight leaked through a gap in the clouds. Outside the club, a dim road ran to the right, and Shen Ji had parked his shared bike in an alley before coming in.

Several streetlamps in the alley were broken. Parts of it lay sunk in darkness.

Shen Ji had barely stepped into the alley mouth when his eyes sharpened. He twisted sideways, dodging!

At the same time, he seized the attacker’s fist and wrenched it outward. His knee drove straight into the man’s abdomen. The man yelped in pain, but Shen Ji didn’t pause for a beat—his explosive power was like a hunting leopard, agile and lethal. Before the others could react, he’d cut straight through them and was already in front of Wang Shao!

Wang Shao hadn’t expected Shen Ji to react so fast. A heavy kick caught him in the shin, and his back slammed into the hard wall.

Wang Shao swore—fuck—and was about to hit back when he felt something cold against his neck. He looked down. His face changed.

A sharp little knife gleamed in the night, cold light along its edge, pressed to his throat.

Beneath his bangs, Shen Ji’s eyes were savage and icy—just like the blade. His thin lips parted. “Tell them to stop.”

He didn’t even need to say it.

The underlings who’d seen what was happening all sucked in sharp breaths and froze.

Sure, they ran the streets and weren’t strangers to bullying and beating people down—none of them were good men. But they weren’t desperate criminals either. Who the hell brings a knife to a fistfight and holds it to someone’s throat?!

Wang Shao was thinking the exact same thing.

Before, Shen Ji had only ever avoided them, which had led Wang Shao to misjudge him—to assume Shen Ji didn’t dare do anything… Now, meeting those black eyes with no warmth in them at all, he suddenly had a terrible intuition: Shen Ji really would do it.

Wang Shao’s face was hideous. Fear rose from the pit of his stomach.

Shen Ji studied him coldly.

Yes—this was how a person looked when facing a threat. Fear. Terror. Unavoidable instinct. So why wasn’t Li Ye like this?

Li Ye…

Shen Ji knew he shouldn’t be thinking about that person, and yet he couldn’t stop—couldn’t stop seeing those smiling eyes. Wicked, innocent, artless, cruel… all of it.

Wang Shao’s face was ashen. He fought to look calm, bluffing through his fear. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“I’m not in the mood to play games with you right now, so…” Shen Ji pressed the blade a little harder against his throat, voice cold and slow. “Stop coming after me. Understood?”

Wang Shao badly wanted to throw out a few more threats, but he truly lacked the guts to gamble on whether Shen Ji would cut. Even if it wasn’t his throat—even a few shallow cuts—was more than he could stomach.

Why risk his life against this penniless brat? He wasn’t some worthless thing like Shen Ji. A wise man doesn’t fight when the odds are against him.

That was what he thought—but the words of surrender just wouldn’t come out. Wang Shao’s face went red with the effort.

Shen Ji’s gaze skimmed over his face, cold mockery surfacing in his eyes. Only once he was sure Wang Shao wouldn’t try anything did he withdraw the knife. Supporting his bike, he walked off unhurried.

Shen Ji looked thin, and he was alone.

But not a single person dared approach him.

They were brawlers, not lunatics—who’d go provoking him again?

They stood there until Shen Ji’s shadow had vanished entirely, and only then did everyone seem to shake off the spell, exhaling in relief.

…

It was rather late when Shen Ji got back to the dorm.

Chen Ziping was hunched over his phone, mid-game, no time to greet him. The other two roommates had long since gone to bed.

Shen Ji went into the bathroom as if nothing were wrong. No one noticed anything off.

Water ran in a rush.

Shen Ji washed up with a blank face and changed into clean clothes. His bunk was the top one by the balcony—he climbed up with an easy pull.

He lay back, one arm behind his head, and closed his eyes.

He’d assumed he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

But this time, he drifted off before long.

In his dream, he was walking through a pitch-black labyrinth. It was tangled and directionless; no matter which way he went, he couldn’t get out. The deeper he went, the more lost he became. He was trapped in an endless maze—no sound, no light, no end, no way out… And then, suddenly, he heard something strange.

He quickened his pace toward it. Before him stood a black wall—but unlike the others, this one had a door, slightly ajar. A faint, low moan drifted through the gap…

The sound was soft, barely there, and yet it seized his entire being without effort. Like a puppet, he reached out and pushed the door open.

Before him stretched a sea of black flowers.

And in the sea of flowers—

There was someone.

He looked at the young man before him and instinctively held his breath.

The young man was curled among the black petals. He seemed to hear the door open—he lifted his pale, slender neck, revealing a delicate, flawless face. A film of mist covered his dark, limpid eyes, dampening his lashes so they clumped in thick clusters. His lips parted slightly, gaze blank and dazed, and yet all the more alluring for that fragile helplessness.

Shen Ji found himself walking closer, wanting a better look.

His gaze fell on the full curve of those lips. They’d been pale pink, but now white teeth had bitten a faint red mark into them—lush, tempting. It made a person want to press down harder, to see that thin lip flush a deeper crimson, to see those pretty eyes spill involuntary tears with nowhere to run…

He wanted to drag him down.

To utterly crush him.

Shen Ji’s eyes flew open. His chest heaved violently, his breathing ragged.

Dawn light was just beginning to show. Sunlight spilled across the bunk railing.

Chen Ziping knocked on the edge of his bunk. “Time for class.”

Shen Ji was silent for a moment, then said hoarsely, “I don’t feel well. Go on without me.”

Chen Ziping thought his voice sounded off. “You caught a cold? Want me to bring you some medicine?”

Shen Ji: “…No. I just need to rest a bit.”

Chen Ziping didn’t press further. He left with the other two roommates.

Only then did Shen Ji, face blank, slide his hand beneath the covers.

In the quiet dorm room, there was only the rustle of fabric.

…

A long while later.

The veins stood out on Shen Ji’s neck and temples. His brows knitted as if in pain. He let out a sharp, uneven breath—and then his whole body went slack.

He lay still for a moment, then got up and stripped the soiled sheets and covers. He ran his fingers under the tap, rinsing them clean bit by bit.

Shen Ji raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

The man in the mirror had eyes shot through with red.

He must genuinely be insane, to have a dream that absurd—and of that person, of all people…

Yesterday, in front of Li Ye…

He must have looked like a dog in heat.