Don't Bait Me Anymore! - Chapter 18

A unique sensation—cool yet firm—pulsed with each movement, vividly reminding Gu Zhiyi of how he was treating Sheng Yan’s legs, which were as beautiful as works of art.

Before this moment, Gu Zhiyi had never imagined such a thing.

Sheng Yan’s legs were exceptionally well-formed; Gu Zhiyi had realized this on the very first day.

They weren’t overly thin. Instead, years of consistent exercise had given them a layer of lean muscle.

The lines were as perfect as if drawn by a brush.

Yet his skin remained exceptionally fair and delicate, like silk. This combination of smooth skin and perfectly toned muscle created not a jarring contrast, but a uniquely alluring sensuality.

Gu Zhiyi had touched them, lingered over them.

In moments of loss of control, he had even gripped them tightly.

But that was all.

Gu Zhiyi had never imagined he could…

Do something so indecent, so absurd.

And become so utterly lost in it.

The fruits and juices on the bar counter shimmered in Gu Zhiyi’s vision, creating a hazy halo.

Sheng Yan’s slightly furrowed brow was reflected in his eyes—

The expression on this face always seemed casual and teasing, possessing an irresistible charm that easily captivated the heart.

When he occasionally turned serious, it revealed a different kind of allure.

Perhaps that’s why, when he wore an expression like the one he wore now, it stirred an involuntary sense of pleasure in the depths of one’s heart a desire to conquer.

The moment this thought arose, Gu Zhiyi’s body tensed abruptly.

After a moment, his rationality slowly returned.

He exhaled heavily, his head instinctively dropping to look down.

The instant his gaze landed, his breath caught.

White snow against crimson marks.

It was the most blatant evidence of their transgression.

Noticing where Gu Zhiyi’s gaze had fallen, Sheng Yan chuckled and asked, “Now you know how strong you really are?”

Gu Zhiyi pressed his thin lips together. After a moment of silence, he asked in a hoarse voice, “Does it hurt badly?”

Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “If I say yes, will you stop doing this in the future?”

Gu Zhiyi froze again.

After a long pause, he finally seemed to have chosen his words carefully. Surprisingly earnest, he replied, “Then no, let’s… um, let’s just keep it like it was before.”

Clearly, in Gu Zhiyi’s mind, Sheng Yan had been unilaterally helping him, whether it was that day in the school locker room or today.

Only when they were both lost in the moment did Sheng Yan also gain something from it.

Yet, when he heard this, Sheng Yan smiled again. After a moment, he casually remarked, “Xiao Gu, you must have realized by now that I’m not someone who would sacrifice my own happiness.”

The implication was clear:

Whatever method he chose, the prerequisite was that he would also find joy in it.

Before Gu Zhiyi could respond, Sheng Yan changed the subject. “Hand me my phone. These pants are ruined now.”

Even though he had rolled up the pant legs to his knees, they had ultimately suffered the same fate as the previous suit.

Gu Zhiyi had noticed this too. His body paused momentarily. Though he didn’t fully grasp the connection between Sheng Yan’s two statements, he still retrieved Sheng Yan’s phone from the other end of the bar and handed it over.

Sheng Yan took it and settled back into the sofa, sending a text to Yan Han:

Send a pair of pants up. Thanks.

He and Yan Han had a regular VIP room at this club, and Sheng Yan had deliberately left a spare set of clothes there.

He had left the clothes there in case he needed to negotiate work mid-activity, avoiding the need to go home or back to the office to change. He never imagined they’d be used in this situation.

By the time Sheng Yan sent his message, Gu Zhiyi had already tidied himself up and was grabbing tissues to clean the sofa, which he had also stained.

Noticing his actions, Sheng Yan couldn’t help but laugh. “No need to do that. Someone will clean it up after we leave.”

Gu Zhiyi paused briefly, then shook his head. “I’ll do it myself.”

During the act, the grip of desire had made such things seem trivial, but the aftermath invariably brought a wave of shame.

Likely guessing his thoughts, Sheng Yan smiled to himself and remained silent.

Perhaps this was the charm of youth.

Just as Gu Zhiyi finished cleaning, there was a knock on the door to the archery room.

Sheng Yan continued to casually order Gu Zhiyi around. “Go open it. It’s probably Yan Han.”

Gu Zhiyi strode over and opened the door, indeed finding Yan Han’s face before him.

Only Yan Han was there; Chen Cheng hadn’t come.

“Brother Yan,” Gu Zhiyi greeted him, his voice still raspy.

Yan Han poked his head in, holding a pair of trousers. “Where’s Boss Sheng? Did you wear him out so much he can’t stand up?”

Perhaps surprised by the directness of the question, Gu Zhiyi froze for a moment.

When he glanced at Yan Han again, he instinctively shifted his stance, blocking Yan Han’s view.

Realizing what Gu Zhiyi was doing, Yan Han paused briefly before a mischievous grin spread across his face. He deliberately said, “What are you hiding for? When Boss Sheng and I were taking a bath together, you were probably playing in the mud somewhere!”

Gu Zhiyi whipped his head around to look at Sheng Yan, his expression like a wary little puppy.

Sheng Yan found this amusing but didn’t explain that Yan Han was just teasing. Instead, he smiled meaningfully. “So what? That kind of mischief, only you can pull it off now.”

That kind of mischief.

The moment Gu Zhiyi heard those four words, the tips of his ears grew warm again.

But the five words “only you can pull it off” soothed him effortlessly.

In the blink of an eye, Gu Zhiyi’s entire demeanor softened. Yan Han tutted in mock amazement and, bored of being part of the play, tossed the trousers in his hand to Gu Zhiyi. He couldn’t resist shouting into the room, “Boss Sheng, put on some pants!”

Without waiting for Sheng Yan’s response, Yan Han swiftly stepped back and quickly closed the door behind Gu Zhiyi.

Only then did Gu Zhiyi realize Sheng Yan had asked for his phone earlier to text Yan Han and have him bring pants.

Handing the high-quality black suit trousers to Sheng Yan, Gu Zhiyi couldn’t help but ask, “Can my brother wear Yan Han’s pants?” His tone betrayed a hint of jealousy.

Of course, there was also a practical question—Yan Han’s build was similar to his, but he was noticeably taller than Sheng Yan.

To his surprise, Sheng Yan took the trousers and put them on with practiced ease, casually replying, “Who told you they were his? I left them here myself earlier.”

Unintentional words, but they struck a chord.

The moment Sheng Yan finished speaking, the line of Gu Zhiyi’s jaw suddenly tensed.

The words were like a bucket of ice water drenching Gu Zhiyi, instantly extinguishing the earlier heat in his heart and forcing his mind to return to its initial clarity.

Sheng Yan was different from him.

Perhaps Sheng Yan had done this kind of thing here many times before, which explained why he’d left clothes behind.

And that’s why he didn’t mind revealing their relationship in front of Chen Cheng.

To Sheng Yan, Gu Zhiyi was nothing special—not the first, and certainly not the last.

They merely shared a temporary relationship, one that purely satisfied each other’s desires.

The moment Gu Zhiyi realized this, he thought he was calm and clear-headed. Yet, without conscious thought, his fingers hanging at his side had already clenched into tight fists.

When Sheng Yan finished tidying himself and looked up, he saw Gu Zhiyi with an unreadable expression.

Confused, Sheng Yan instinctively asked, “What’s wrong?”

Gu Zhiyi snapped back to the present.

He lowered his gaze, remaining silent for a moment.

For a fleeting instant, Gu Zhiyi truly wanted to ask the question directly.

But in the end, he merely avoided Sheng Yan’s gaze and shook his head. “Nothing. I just feel a bit tired.”

Even in a proper relationship, one shouldn’t pry too much into a partner’s past. How could they?

Gu Zhiyi still understood this most basic rule of adulthood.

Sheng Yan didn’t suspect anything, assuming Gu Zhiyi was still in the afterglow.

“Let’s go,” he said, stretching lazily as he headed for the door. “I’ll take you back to school.”

Gu Zhiyi’s thin lips parted and closed again, but he ultimately couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He just murmured a low “Mm.”

Though Sheng Yan had said he would drive Gu Zhiyi back to school, he didn’t bother calling another driver. After confirming Gu Zhiyi had a driver’s license and could drive, he tossed him the car keys and lazily leaned back into the passenger seat.

He casually turned on the car stereo and, leaning back, turned his head to look at Gu Zhiyi’s focused profile as he stared straight ahead. “See you tomorrow?” he asked casually.

After all, tonight’s meeting had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, an unplanned encounter.

Sheng Yan wasn’t sure if Gu Zhiyi had unfinished tasks from today that he needed to make up tomorrow.

Gu Zhiyi’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “Does Brother not want to see me tomorrow?” he asked softly.

Sheng Yan chuckled immediately. “How could you say that?”

He was clearly still in the mood.

“Then I’ll see you,” Gu Zhiyi said without hesitation.

As he spoke, the light turned red, and he applied the brakes. Gu Zhiyi turned his head to look at him.

Then he suddenly asked, “Brother works for a jewelry brand, right?”

Gu Zhiyi’s topic jumped too abruptly, leaving Sheng Yan momentarily stunned. He nodded and asked, “Yes, why did you suddenly think to ask that?”

But Gu Zhiyi didn’t immediately respond.

Perhaps it was because, even though he rationally understood that their relationship didn’t require any understanding beyond the physical, which was originally Gu Zhiyi’s ideal state, he found himself reluctant for their conversations to revolve solely around “when to have sex.”

After a long pause, Gu Zhiyi lowered his eyes and replied, “Nothing, I just suddenly thought of it and asked casually.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “So, brother, why did you initially choose to do this?”

The final word hung in the air as the traffic light turned green. Gu Zhiyi turned his attention back to the road and resumed driving.

After a moment’s thought, Sheng Yan smiled and said, “Perhaps because I discovered I truly love the entire process—designing, cutting, setting, polishing, the process of transforming a rough, mined diamond into the jewelry I envision.”

This process brought Sheng Yan immense satisfaction.

As he spoke, Sheng Yan kept his head tilted, gazing at Gu Zhiyi’s sculpted, handsome profile—

As if gazing at a newly mined, perfect diamond.

The club wasn’t particularly close to S University; even without traffic, the drive took nearly half an hour at night.

After chatting for a while, Sheng Yan began to feel drowsy amidst the psychedelic rock music and temporarily closed his eyes.

For a moment, the car was filled only with the flowing music, punctuated by Sheng Yan’s steady, even breathing.

Outside, the night was vast and empty.

The blue Panamera sped through the darkness, finally stopping at one of the gates of S University.

Sheng Yan was still asleep.

Gu Zhiyi hesitated, wondering whether to wake him, when his phone vibrated twice in his pocket.

He immediately pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and instinctively set it to completely silent before opening WeChat.

It was a message from Zhao Da:

Brother Yi, you’re not coming back tonight either?

Gu Zhiyi replied briefly:

I am. I’m already at the school gate.

Zhao Da responded instantly:

Great! Brother Yi, can you bring me a bucket of spicy beef noodles from downstairs? Tonight’s group project has completely drained me!

Gu Zhiyi didn’t refuse:

Sure.

After replying to the message, Gu Zhiyi locked his phone and put it back in his pocket, preparing to wake Sheng Yan.

But when he looked up and met Sheng Yan’s sleeping face, the words he was about to say caught inexplicably in his throat.

Sheng Yan was sleeping soundly.

His long, thick eyelashes completely concealed those peach-shaped eyes, which always seemed to flow with teasing smiles. In the car’s dim, hazy light, they cast a shadow across his face, yet the small mole on the bridge of his nose remained clearly visible.

The car’s sound system was playing a perfectly fitting line: “You know I think your skin’s perfect color / But it’s always your eyes that pull me under.”

The music was hazy, and the lead singer’s voice was equally ethereal, adding a touch of ambiguity to the air.

Gu Zhiyi’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and a strange sense of satisfaction—one he’d never felt before and couldn’t quite comprehend, well up in his heart.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket jolted Gu Zhiyi back to reality.

It was another message from Zhao Da:

Brother Yi, it’s been nearly fifteen minutes. Did you go cook me some instant noodles?

Gu Zhiyi’s thin lips pressed together. Only then did he realize he had been staring at Sheng Yan for so long without even noticing.

As if trying to cover up his lapse, Gu Zhiyi replied:

Sorry, I’m coming back now.

He was asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him.

Zhao Da replied instantly, his confusion practically radiating through the screen:

Just asking, Brother Yi, aren’t you being a little too… tender with your one-night stand?

One-night stand.

The words struck Gu Zhiyi’s nerves like lightning, dragging him back to the cold, sober realization he had had at the club earlier:

He and Sheng Yan didn’t have this kind of tender relationship at all.

Rationality returned. Gu Zhiyi was about to coldly type “No” and wake Sheng Yan without hesitation.

But just as he typed the two characters, before he could send them, a soft groan suddenly came from beside him:

Mmm…

The sound trailed off, like the purr of a feline.

At the same moment, Gu Zhiyi’s shoulder suddenly sank under a weight.

One moment Sheng Yan was leaning against the car door, and the next he had shifted his position, resting his head on Gu Zhiyi’s shoulder.

He even nudged his cheek against Gu Zhiyi’s neck.

Gu Zhiyi’s fingers tightened around his phone, his breath momentarily catching.

Sheng Yan was too close, his pleasant men’s cologne filling Gu Zhiyi’s nostrils.

It was a mature scent, neither overly sweet nor innocent, but with Sheng Yan leaning against him in such a rare, almost dependent posture, his hair brushing against Gu Zhiyi’s neck, sending a tingling itch across half his neck.

This contrast made Gu Zhiyi’s heart swell instantly.

“Gege?” Gu Zhiyi murmured, his voice tight with unconscious tension.

No response.

Gu Zhiyi unconsciously let out a small sigh of relief.

The cold ruthlessness from half a minute ago vanished in an instant. Instead of raising his voice to call Sheng Yan again or pushing him away, Gu Zhiyi unlocked his phone, deleted the “No” he’d just typed, and quickly replied to Zhao Da:

Don’t ask. I have my own rhythm.

Then he neatly exited WeChat and opened the camera, aiming it at Sheng Yan’s peaceful sleeping face.

Carefully, involuntarily, he pressed the shutter button.

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