Don't Bait Me Anymore! - Chapter 14

The blue Panamera sped towards S University.

In the back seat, Sheng Yan couldn’t help but chuckle after Gu Zhiyi’s burning gaze had landed on him for the eighth time in five minutes. “Xiao Gu, do you know what your eyes look like right now?”

Gu Zhiyi snapped out of his daze and instinctively asked, “What?”

Instead of answering immediately, Sheng Yan turned his head and smiled at Gu Zhiyi for a few seconds, watching his jawline tense. Then, he leaned close to Gu Zhiyi’s ear and said with a grin, “Like a puppy staring at a bone.”

Gu Zhiyi’s shoulders stiffened abruptly. He avoided Sheng Yan’s gaze and muttered, “I’m not…” His voice carried an uncharacteristic trace of frustration.

Sheng Yan didn’t call out Gu Zhiyi’s stubborn denial. Instead, he deliberately teased him further, “I even offered to help you later, but you refused yourself.”

Back in the hotel room, when Sheng Yan said those words, Gu Zhiyi actually stood rooted to the spot. He didn’t leave to get ice water, nor did he help himself. He simply stood there, listening to Sheng Yan bathe.

Of course, “listening” might not be entirely accurate.

Through the frosted glass, Gu Zhiyi could see Sheng Yan’s silhouette.

The figure grew increasingly hazy with the rising steam, yet a mere tilt of the head or turn of the body easily sparked endless fantasies.

It made one want to shatter that veil of mist, to see more clearly, to touch, to possess…

Yet in the end, until Sheng Yan finished his shower and emerged, Gu Zhiyi did nothing.

Even when Sheng Yan kindly offered to help him manually, he refused. Instead, he entered the bathroom and ran cold water over himself for a full twenty minutes.

“Hmm,” Gu Zhiyi didn’t argue, merely murmured in response. “Since you said you wanted to punish me, I should naturally be strict about it.”

In truth, for Gu Zhiyi, this was both Sheng Yan’s punishment and his own.

He was punishing himself for losing control, for becoming the kind of person he had once despised—a slave to his desires.

So, almost masochistically, he was even harsher on himself than Sheng Yan, the one administering the punishment.

Hearing Gu Zhiyi say this, Sheng Yan didn’t reply immediately. After a moment of silence, he suddenly chuckled. “Xiao Gu, you’re quite interesting.”

Gu Zhiyi snapped back to attention, turning his head in confusion. “Hmm?”

Sheng Yan’s gaze traced the sharp, angular lines of his handsome face before he finally answered, “You have a very strong sense of order about you.”

As if an invisible anchor were constantly recalibrating him.

Gu Zhiyi paused briefly, neither confirming nor denying this. He simply asked, “Is that considered interesting?”

After all, in the common perception, order was often associated with dullness.

Sheng Yan smiled again. He didn’t say, “It’s precisely the disruption of order that’s interesting.” Instead, he raised his hand and gently touched the corner of Gu Zhiyi’s slightly pursed lips.

He was wearing Gu Zhiyi’s white shirt.

After showering, Sheng Yan didn’t want to put on his clothes, still smelling of smoke and alcohol from the previous day. He was about to call Sun Yu to bring some fresh clothes when Gu Zhiyi suddenly offered his own shirt. “Brother, do you want this? I only wore it for half an hour last night.”

Gu Zhiyi had only put on the shirt that evening before coming to see Sheng Yan. Once at the hotel, he’d taken it off and hung it up, and he hadn’t worn it for his morning run either.

Sheng Yan looked up, slightly surprised, and caught a hint of deeply hidden anticipation in Gu Zhiyi’s eyes.

Without hesitation, Sheng Yan reached out and took Gu Zhiyi’s shirt, slipping it on.

But…

The difference in their physiques was striking.

Sheng Yan was already tall and slender, but Gu Zhiyi was even taller, with broader shoulders and more muscular build. Standing together, they inadvertently made Sheng Yan appear somewhat “petite.”

As a result, the shirt didn’t fit Sheng Yan well.

It was clearly too large, but instead of looking awkward, it created an unexpected effect.

The white shirt, which had exuded a restrained, almost ascetic aura on Gu Zhiyi, now carried a hint of languor on Sheng Yan, creating a unique kind of sexiness.

Especially when he raised his hand, the two buttons that were already undone at the collar shifted, revealing a sliver of skin.

And there, on that previously flawless white skin, was a clear red mark.

The moment Gu Zhiyi’s gaze fell upon it, his brow twitched sharply.

The line of his jaw tightened noticeably, and his voice deepened, growing hoarse. “Brother, can you button your shirt properly?”

“Hahaha, he really said that?” Yan Han laughed uncontrollably in the VIP room of the Langqing Club after hearing Sheng Yan’s vivid retelling. “I never would have guessed that kid with his cool, aloof demeanor is so possessive.”

Sheng Yan leaned back against the plush sofa, took a drag from his cigarette, and skillfully exhaled a smoke ring before snorting dismissively. “Isn’t that how all little puppies mark their territory?”

“Boss Sheng, you’re amazing,” Yan Han said, smacking his lips and giving Sheng Yan a thumbs-up. “You rarely make a move, but when you do, it’s always this!”

“Enough flattery,” Sheng Yan said with a wry smile, flicking his cigarette butt into the ashtray and standing up. “Let’s go upstairs and play archery.”

Sheng Yan had always loved activities like archery and shooting. He’d just been too busy with work to indulge in them often.

Now that he’d delegated more of his responsibilities, he had more free time for leisure.

But Yan Han’s face immediately fell. “Boss Sheng, you call that ‘playing’? That’s just you crushing me with your superior skills!”

Sheng Yan smiled and held up three fingers. “I’ll give you three extra arrows this time.”

Only then did Yan Han reluctantly get up from the sofa.

But before he could leave the private room, he suddenly stopped and exclaimed, “What’s the fun in playing with me every time? Why don’t you call that little wolfdog of yours over?”

Sheng Yan paused, hesitating. “Today isn’t our scheduled time.”

After leaving the hotel together yesterday morning, he had asked the driver to drop Gu Zhiyi off at school along the way. They hadn’t contacted each other since.

Today was Tuesday, and their usual “supply drop” was scheduled for tomorrow.

“What’s the big deal?” Yan Han shrugged. “With Boss Sheng’s charm, isn’t a single phone call all it takes?”

Remembering their conversation about “orderliness” in the car yesterday, Sheng Yan smirked enigmatically. He unlocked his phone, opened WeChat, and initiated a voice call to Gu Zhiyi.

“Taking the e-commerce company as an example, its current strategies can be broadly categorized into cost leadership, differentiation, and focus. The cost leadership strategy, specifically, includes…”

In the classroom, Gu Zhiyi was working on a strategy management group assignment with Zhao Da and four other classmates.

Of course, he was the leader—

Group assignments were randomly assigned each class, and most students were thrilled to be grouped with Gu Zhiyi—

After all, he was a walking cheat sheet. Gu Zhiyi could single-handedly complete 80% of the assignment, while the remaining 20%—such as information gathering, integration, and creating the presentation slides—was distributed among the group members. Everyone enjoyed the effortless ride.

Right now, Gu Zhiyi was essentially explaining his points while the others focused on taking notes, occasionally chiming in with questions or suggestions.

A “buzz” interrupted Gu Zhiyi’s clear and structured analysis.

He instinctively glanced down at his phone on the table. The moment he saw the caller ID, Gu Zhiyi’s voice abruptly stopped.

“Sorry, you guys continue the discussion. I need to take this call outside.”

With that, Gu Zhiyi grabbed his phone and quickly left the classroom.

Once the call connected, he lowered his voice and answered, “Hello?”

The next moment, Sheng Yan’s lazy, smiling voice came through the phone: “Xiao Gu, are you busy? Want to come play archery?”

Gu Zhiyi instinctively asked, “When? Now?”

A drawn-out “Mmm” came from the other end of the line.

Gu Zhiyi pressed his lips together and glanced at the classroom.

After a moment of silence, he answered truthfully, “I’m working on a group project with classmates.”

Sheng Yan sounded understanding: “No problem. Come over when you’re done. I’ll send you the address?”

The word “Okay” was already on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason, Gu Zhiyi swallowed it back.

Instead, he said, “Let’s skip it today. We’ll stick to our original plan and meet tomorrow.”

Sheng Yan seemed surprised. After a brief silence, his voice returned, laced with teasing: “Alright, you said it yourself.”

Gu Zhiyi felt a strange unease and frowned slightly. But before he could press further, Sheng Yan cut him off: “Focus on your work. I’ll hang up now.”

He lingered outside the classroom for a few more seconds before pushing the door open.

As soon as he sat down, Zhao Da leaned in, his face full of gossip. In a voice only they could hear, he whispered, “Who was that?”

As his roommate and the only one privy to their arrangement, Zhao Da could sense a subtle difference when Gu Zhiyi answered Sheng Yan’s calls compared to when he answered others.

The corners of his lips would curve slightly upward, and his footsteps would quicken almost imperceptibly.

When Zhao Da asked, Gu Zhiyi paused briefly before nodding in confirmation.

Zhao Da pressed further, “Did he ask you to go out?”

Gu Zhiyi nodded again, then added, “But I refused.”

Zhao Da was taken aback and instinctively asked, “Why?”

Gu Zhiyi glanced at him and calmly reminded him, “Our discussion isn’t finished yet.”

“What kind of reason is that?” Zhao Da was puzzled. “We’re almost done anyway. We can finish this ourselves or complete it all before you leave. It’ll take less than forty minutes at most. Doesn’t he want to wait for you?”

Gu Zhiyi fell silent again.

After a long pause, just when Zhao Da thought he wouldn’t answer, he heard Gu Zhiyi’s voice, barely above a whisper, right next to his ear: “No, I just don’t like disrupting the plan at the last minute.”

Gu Zhiyi’s rationality wouldn’t allow him to lose control repeatedly, nor would it permit a purely physical relationship to overstep its boundaries and invade his life.

Unaware of Gu Zhiyi’s inner turmoil, Zhao Da heard this and instantly recalled the night they went to the bar together. One thought dominated his mind: “Damn, this is strong…”

“I thought Boss Sheng had already charmed this kid into a stupor,” Yan Han said, staring at Sheng Yan in astonishment. “How can he still refuse you so decisively?”

Sheng Yan wasn’t particularly surprised. He smiled faintly. “I told you before, he’s a man of strong principles.”

Yan Han immediately scoffed. “How boring.”

Sheng Yan didn’t disagree, but he didn’t argue either. He had already taken his position at the archery range, nocking an arrow with practiced ease.

His stance was fluid and familiar as he drew the bow, aimed, and released. The arrow flew true, striking the bullseye!

“Holy shit!” Yan Han swore dramatically. “Boss Sheng, your little wolfdog isn’t here. Who are you trying to impress with this display?”

Sheng Yan, who had already nocked his second arrow and was drawing the bow, paused briefly at the remark. Suddenly, a new idea sparked.

He turned to Yan Han, beckoned him over with a finger, and said with a playful tone, “Come take a picture for your big brother.”

Yan Han was confused but raised his phone, aiming the camera at Sheng Yan.

In the frame, Sheng Yan was no longer looking at him. He had turned away, continuing to draw his bow and aim.

As Yan Han snapped photos, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Absolutely stunning! This photo will definitely lock down everyone’s attention for at least ten seconds… no, a hundred seconds!”

As he spoke, Sheng Yan’s second arrow had already flown, landing only a hair’s breadth from the first.

“Send me the photos,” Sheng Yan said, turning to Yan Han.

“Yes, handsome,” Yan Han replied, quickly sending three pictures to Sheng Yan.

Sheng Yan unlocked his phone and glanced at the photos. He selected the one he liked best and posted it to his Moments.

Of course, he muttered to himself, “No need to lock down everyone, just one will do,” and with calculated cunning, set the post to be visible only to Gu Zhiyi.

Gu Zhiyi saw the photo while the discussion was still ongoing, during a break when everyone was on their phones.

As soon as he unlocked his phone, he unconsciously opened the chat with Sheng Yan again.

But his finger hovered over the screen for two seconds before he withdrew it, as if trying to cover up his actions, and casually opened Moments instead.

To his surprise, when he refreshed the feed, he saw a photo Sheng Yan had posted just five minutes earlier.

The moment he clicked to view the full-sized image, Gu Zhiyi’s fingers tightened around the phone.

In the photo, Sheng Yan stood with one hand holding a bow and the other drawing the string. His shoulders were straight, and his usually smiling peach blossom eyes were unusually focused, almost serious, exuding an extraordinary, heroic charm.

But completely contradicting this focused and serious expression and posture was his attire…

He was wearing Gu Zhiyi’s shirt.

Two buttons of his shirt remained undone, hanging loosely and accentuating his slender, delicate frame.

But the most eye-catching feature was the pale side of his neck, revealed as he drew his bow.

A vivid red kiss mark lay there, almost brazenly displayed.

These two contrasting qualities, his lean physique and the mark of passion, merged seamlessly on Sheng Yan, creating a tension that was both contradictory and compelling.

And the most infuriating part was that Sheng Yan had paired this photo with an deliberately suggestive caption:

Someone said I was showing off like a peacock.

Gu Zhiyi pressed his tongue against his canine tooth, the pressure so intense he nearly laughed in frustration.

Wearing my clothes, sporting my marks, yet using the vague “someone” to avoid naming me, what kind of game is this?

After staring at the photo for a moment, Gu Zhiyi abruptly closed the social media app and reopened Sheng Yan’s chat window. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed:

Gege, I’m done here. Can you send me the address? I’m on my way now.

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