Don't Bait Me Anymore! - Chapter 7

After a brief hesitation, Sheng Yan accepted the invitation.

He didn’t tell Gu Zhiyi in advance, as Sheng Yan considered this sort of thing a “surprise.” Telling him beforehand would spoil the fun.

More accurately, he didn’t send Gu Zhiyi any messages at all that day.

Sheng Yan had always been adept at striking the right balance between casualness and restraint.

Of course, he had already checked Gu Zhiyi’s WeChat moments once, and the results were as cold and impersonal as he’d expected:

Gu Zhiyi’s WeChat name was simply his initials, G Z Y.

His profile picture was a geometric pattern against a black background.

His moments were set to be visible for only the past month, and in that time, he had posted only one item a link to a university celebration event that looked like it had been shared under duress.

In short, Gu Zhiyi’s WeChat profile resembled a soulless work account.

Sheng Yan finished reviewing it in half a minute and closed the app. By then, he had already checked out of his hotel and returned home, where he was in his study preparing materials for tomorrow’s presentation.

Sheng Yan had always been this way.

He approached things with a casual, uninhibited spirit, unswayed by others. But once he committed to something, he would give it his all.

It was Gu Zhiyi who initiated contact first.

Twenty minutes had passed since Sheng Yan had last checked his phone. He’d finished the first draft of his speech and glanced at his phone while grinding coffee.

G Z Y: Sorry, I left in a hurry this morning and forgot to ask if you’re okay. Are you feeling any discomfort?

Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow in surprise and casually replied.

Why the sudden concern? Are you doubting your skills?

He could already picture the person on the other end of the phone blushing at this message.

Gu Zhiyi, perhaps free from class, replied instantly, his tone surprisingly serious—

I just lack experience. I was afraid I might make you uncomfortable.

This concern wasn’t entirely unfounded. After all, Gu Zhiyi hadn’t worn protection last night, and during one instance, he’d lost control and… released.

Though he’d cleaned Sheng Yan thoroughly in the shower afterward, it wasn’t foolproof.

Still, apart from a minor, manageable discomfort, Sheng Yan felt fine.

But since Gu Zhiyi had asked, Sheng Yan couldn’t resist teasing him. His fingertips flew across the screen as he sent another reply.

“What would you do if I said I was feeling unwell?” Sheng Yan asked.

Gu Zhiyi replied instantly:

“Could you give me your address? I’ll let the teacher know and come over right now.”

This time, Sheng Yan was genuinely taken aback. He had just taken a sip of his coffee, and the moment he saw the message, he choked on it, coughing violently.

This guy…

He’s really strong on both responsibility and execution.

Sheng Yan knew he shouldn’t push it too far. He couldn’t actually disrupt Gu Zhiyi’s class and make him come over. Once he recovered from his coughing fit, he quickly replied:

“Just teasing. I’m fine. Go back to class.”

But Gu Zhiyi seemed still worried and confirmed Sheng Yan’s well-being one more time before finally ending the conversation.

After putting his phone aside, Sheng Yan went back to refining his speech, completely unaware that Gu Zhiyi was now the subject of curious glances from his classmates.

Gu Zhiyi was a rare “outlier” in university classrooms. Whether in major courses or electives, even when the material was familiar, he never touched his phone throughout the entire class.

But today, Gu Zhiyi not only took out his phone during class and seemed to be texting someone, but he also checked it every five minutes for the next twenty minutes. He even appeared to be chatting, his slender fingers tapping incessantly on the screen. What’s more, his usually impassive expression softened slightly, becoming less cold than usual.

This was highly unusual.

Classmates sitting nearby couldn’t help but wonder who he was texting, but no one dared to ask.

Only the “insider” his roommate who had gone to the bar with Gu Zhiyi last night, leaned over and asked in a low voice, “Brother Yi… are you texting that handsome guy from last night?”

Gu Zhiyi had just turned off his phone. His fingertips paused momentarily at the question, but he didn’t deny it, simply murmuring a faint “Mm.”

The roommate clicked his tongue in admiration. “Looks like I need to take back what I said about you being clueless about romance!”

Actually, Gu Zhiyi had texted Sheng Yan earlier to ask if he was feeling unwell. This was because after morning runs and returning to the dorm to change, his only “insider” roommate had “criticized” him for being “clueless about romance”—for leaving Sheng Yan alone in the hotel room to go for a run.

Gu Zhiyi was completely inexperienced in this area. It was only after his roommate mentioned it that he realized his actions had seemed overly cold and he belatedly wanted to make amends.

Fortunately, Sheng Yan wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. As Gu Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t help but dwell on the events of the previous night…

In the moment, he had been swept away by primal desire, his mind blank. Yet upon recalling it later, he found that even the texture of Sheng Yan’s skin and Sheng Yan’s soft, broken gasps seemed etched into his memory, vividly clear.

“Brother Yi, Brother Yi?” His roommate’s voice suddenly jolted Gu Zhiyi back to reality. He saw his roommate frantically signaling with his eyes, “Stop daydreaming! The teacher’s calling on you to answer a question!”

Gu Zhiyi abruptly pulled himself away from his memories of the previous night, stood up, quickly organized his thoughts, and began answering methodically: “The BCG Matrix helps allocate funds across different business units, balancing cash flow by optimizing the business portfolio. Taking the two major internet giants as an example…”

When discussing his area of expertise, Gu Zhiyi instantly reverted to his cool, confident, and imposing persona as the academic prodigy.

His analysis was both insightful and easy to follow, and even some classmates began taking notes.

Five minutes later, Gu Zhiyi wrapped up his topic. “That concludes my response.”

The professor on the podium wore a complex expression. After a long pause, he sighed helplessly. “Gu Zhiyi, your points were clear and your examples well-chosen, truly thought-provoking. However, the discussion of the BCG Matrix was actually part of our previous question… Please take your seat, and I hope you’ll pay closer attention going forward.”

The students below finally couldn’t suppress their good-natured laughter.

Gu Zhiyi’s usually impassive face showed a rare flicker of bewilderment and embarrassment.

His thin lips pressed into a straight line again. After sitting down, as if punishing himself, he slammed his phone into his drawer.

He couldn’t help thinking, Good thing I won’t see Sheng Yan for the next week.

Otherwise, he couldn’t guarantee how many more absurd incidents might occur.

But…

Gu Zhiyi’s “relief” lasted only a day.

The next morning, just as he finished a professional exam and was leaving the classroom for his next class, he heard a girl beside him gasp softly into her phone, her voice filled with regret. “Damn this exam! It made me miss such a great chance to see that handsome guy up close! Waaah!”

Gu Zhiyi continued walking, clearly showing his usual indifference to such matters.

But after only two steps, Zhao Da—the “informed” roommate, came sprinting up behind him.

“Holy shit, Brother Yi, look at this!” Zhao Da shouted excitedly, shoving his phone screen in Gu Zhiyi’s face. “It’s that hot guy from the night before last—it’s him, right?!”

Gu Zhiyi instinctively lowered his head to look. The moment his eyes landed on the photo, he froze.

There, on the screen, was the familiar smile he knew so well.

Yet it also seemed strangely unfamiliar.

Perhaps that’s the magic of a one-night stand: having shared the most intimate act in the world, yet knowing nothing about each other.

For instance, Gu Zhiyi knew Sheng Yan’s eyes would crinkle at the corners, his gaze either playful or teasingly suggestive as he looked at him.

But he felt utterly unfamiliar with the elite image on the screen: Sheng Yan, dressed in a perfectly tailored mist-blue suit, standing on the podium of a packed auditorium and speaking with effortless confidence.

The photo, likely taken by the school’s publicity department, was a high-resolution close-up. Even the small mole on Sheng Yan’s nose was clearly visible, standing out sharply under the glow of the electronic screen beside him.

Gu Zhiyi’s Adam’s apple slowly bobbed.

Utterly inappropriate, he suddenly remembered the tremor in his heart when his tongue had kissed that spot.

“Brother Yi?” Seeing Gu Zhiyi remain silent for a long time, Zhao Da asked hesitantly, “You…”

But before he could finish, the school’s gossip group chat buzzed with new photos.

Still of Sheng Yan, but this time the background wasn’t the auditorium, but the basketball court to the south.

The photo was clearly taken surreptitiously, slightly blurry, and included other students on the surrounding field.

Yet without exception, every gaze was fixed on Sheng Yan.

As if struck by a sudden realization, Gu Zhiyi pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and opened WeChat.

A moment later, his expression turned even colder.

Since their brief conversation yesterday, Sheng Yan hadn’t sent him a single message.

He hadn’t even mentioned coming to their school for a speech today.

His face taut, Gu Zhiyi put his phone away, sidestepped Zhao Da, and turned in the opposite direction of the classroom. He threw over his shoulder in a cold voice, “I’m skipping the next class. Cover for me if roll is taken.”

Zhao Da stared after Gu Zhiyi’s retreating figure, wide-eyed, as if he’d seen a ghost in broad daylight—

Their Brother Yi had never even taken sick leave for a fever. Now he was skipping class for… a one-night stand?

This is surreal, absolutely surreal!

Standing on the basketball court, Sheng Yan looked at the tall, flushed-faced sports student in front of him and found it all rather surreal.

He’d been out of school for years. He never expected that one day, while giving a university lecture, a student would actually ask for his WeChat…

His lecture had gone smoothly.

Out of the hour and a half, he spent only forty minutes on his personal presentation. Instead of spouting lofty, abstract principles, he simply shared some of the surprises and challenges he’d encountered during his entrepreneurial journey, weaving a compelling and engaging narrative.

He reserved the remaining fifty minutes for a Q&A session.

The students’ questions were diverse, ranging from professional inquiries about jewelry design and entrepreneurship to requests for guidance on life choices.

Sheng Yan avoided lecturing from the position of an experienced elder. Instead, he shared what he knew and had experienced on equal footing, aiming to inspire the students.

When the hour and a half ended, the students still seemed eager for more. Many boldly approached Sheng Yan for autographs, using the opportunity to quickly ask a couple more questions while he signed.

Sheng Yan patiently signed autographs and answered questions.

Even though his original intention for giving this lecture was to tease Gu Zhiyi, he didn’t see him anywhere throughout the entire event. Still, Sheng Yan refused to cut corners with any of the other students.

It wasn’t until ten minutes ago that he was finally able to slip away from the auditorium.

While signing autographs, Sheng Yan had already asked his assistant to find out Gu Zhiyi’s major and class.

As expected, Gu Zhiyi was well-known on campus, and his information was easy to obtain.

Sheng Yan had planned to go straight to find him after the lecture. Though he felt a slight disappointment that Gu Zhiyi hadn’t attended, he didn’t dwell on it. After all, he hadn’t told Gu Zhiyi in advance. Gu Zhiyi might have had class or simply not known it was him speaking, so his absence was entirely plausible.

Sheng Yan had never been one to get bogged down in such trivial matters.

However, as he stepped out of the auditorium, he noticed a basketball court nearby where students were currently playing a game.

Having been away from campus for so long, Sheng Yan was suddenly inspired to walk over and watch.

He truly didn’t care how attractive he was. Just standing by the basketball court, doing nothing, was enough to draw the eyes of everyone passing by, both men and women.

It was one thing for little girls to sneak photos, but what was this tall, athletic student doing, running over to add him on WeChat during halftime instead of discussing tactics?

Sheng Yan shook his head helplessly. He didn’t even unlock his phone, simply saying casually, “I’m just a regular spectator. Good luck with the game.”

The unspoken message was clear: Don’t pay too much attention to me. Focus on the game. No WeChat.

Sheng Yan’s rejections were always like this: direct yet polite.

But the man before him, whether genuinely clueless or pretending to be, responded bluntly, “I’ll cheer for the game, of course. But you’re not ordinary—you’re too good-looking… So, can we add WeChat?”

He was remarkably persistent.

Sheng Yan sighed silently. It seemed he’d have to reject him more directly.

Just as he was about to speak, a familiar male voice called out from behind:

The boyish tone was almost gone, replaced by a deep, magnetic voice that murmured, “Brother.”

Sheng Yan instinctively turned around and found himself face-to-face with Gu Zhiyi’s handsome features.

Did he go for another run just now? Sheng Yan wondered. Though October in Hai City wasn’t particularly warm, a thin layer of sweat glistened on the man’s forehead, and his breathing seemed slightly heavier than usual.

Hearing the athlete address him as “brother,” Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow with amused curiosity.

But before he could speak, the athlete beat him to it, asking, “Do you know each other?”

It was clear he recognized Gu Zhiyi, or at least knew of him.

Gu Zhiyi remained silent, his thin lips pressing together even tighter. And…

And a hint of hostility, which he himself hadn’t yet noticed, had already crept into his gaze toward the athlete.

Sheng Yan caught it with perfect accuracy.

His mood instantly improved by two points.

“Mm,” Sheng Yan replied casually. Of course, he had no intention of revealing his relationship with Gu Zhiyi to the athlete. So, he sidestepped the topic and, in front of Gu Zhiyi, gave a blunt refusal: “Sorry, but I won’t add you on WeChat. I just came to look around and will be leaving soon.”

The athlete still looked reluctant, but hearing his teammates calling him, he had no choice but to put away his phone and trudge back to the group.

As soon as the other person left, Gu Zhiyi lowered his gaze to look at Sheng Yan and asked softly, “What are you doing here, gege?”

It was as if he had suddenly gotten used to calling Sheng Yan “gege” overnight.

Since Gu Zhiyi had come all this way to find him, he must have already known about the speech. Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow innocently and replied, “Didn’t I just tell you? The speech just ended, and I happened to come by to take a look.”

But Gu Zhiyi was inexplicably stubborn about this. He pressed further, his voice deepening. “Take a look at what?”

Of course, he was here to watch the basketball game.

The real answer hovered on Sheng Yan’s lips, but he deliberately swallowed it. A mischievous urge to tease him surged through him. He let his gaze drift casually across the basketball court before drawling, “Hmm… appreciating the beautiful young bodies of the athletes?”

The words weren’t entirely untrue.

After all, the athletes on the court were all in peak physical condition.

As expected, Sheng Yan’s remark made Gu Zhiyi’s face darken for a moment. His jawline tightened, and the muscles in his body tensed visibly. His voice deepened further, carrying a hint of wounded pride. “You said you’d think about it for a week… Are you going back on your word, gege?”

Reading Banxia’s novels brings so much joy.

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