Chapter 31: Are You Competing with Me for Ruan Zhimian?
He doesn’t like Han He’an, and he doesn’t like me either.
It’s fine. For someone like me, it’s only normal not to be liked.
Baby, it’s enough that I like you.
The world before him suddenly dimmed.
Shi He gently brushed away a small strand of white silk from the other’s eyelashes—it was a stray thread from a web that had drifted from some unknown corner. His deep, unreadable eyes grew darker, yet he remained chillingly calm, showing no emotional fluctuation.
In an instant, the distance between them closed significantly.
Ruan Zhimian subconsciously closed his eyes. With his vision gone, he could hear his own heartbeat and Shi He’s breathing with jarring clarity. His brain seemed to lag by half a beat, and his voice was faint and weak. “What are you… doing?”
“There was something on your eyelashes.”
Shi He held out his hand to show Ruan Zhimian. The “little cat” lowered his head and, for the first time, saw Shi He’s fingers clearly—there was a scar on his finger pad.
“What is this?”
“A burn.”
Shi He withdrew his hand with a flat tone. “My father burned me with a cigarette butt when I was a child.”
He had always been an outlier. After his father disappeared, he only felt that life would become quieter; there would be no more drunkard coming home from business events to take out his madness on him.
Ruan Zhimian murmured, “That must have hurt a lot.”
Shi He didn’t really want to reminisce. “It was too long ago. I can’t remember clearly.”
Within the vast Shi residence, there was a quiet, narrow little room.
That was Shi He’s study—so cramped that it could only fit a single desk. Even the private tutors hired for him could only teach from the outer room.
From the moment he woke up at six in the morning, the young Shi He’s schedule was packed until ten at night, when he would wash up and sleep.
Most of the various courses were complex and rigorous. Despite this, the young Shi He still obediently attended classes, did his homework, and submitted to inspections.
Once or twice a week, a drunken President Shi would kick open the door. He would pick up the small notebook filled with neat handwriting, flip through a few pages, and toss it aside.
“Good son, my good son.”
“I tell them all that their children aren’t as good as you—smart and obedient.”
“But you always listen to your mother instead of me. I told you to come with me to meet those other kids, so why won’t you go?”
The young Shi He looked up. “Father, you’re drunk.”
President Shi inhaled a cigarette, flicked some ash onto the desk, and forcibly pulled Shi He up. “Come here. I’ll teach you how to smoke.”
The child struggled desperately but couldn’t break free until the burning tip of the cigarette was pressed into his finger. It hurt so much he couldn’t even open his eyes.
In the years that followed, the only thing he remembered about that scar was a single sentence: Shi He, in this house, you have to listen to me.
A soft, white little hand cupped his finger, breaking the memory.
He gently lowered his head and blew on it. “When I was little, my mom told me that blowing on it makes the pain go away.”
Shi He lowered his dark, gloomy eyes halfway. His amber pheromones began to leak out, causing the S-class Alpha pheromone detector on his wrist to vibrate.
It was a warning that his pheromone concentration was too high.
If he didn’t suppress them, his pheromones might go on a rampage.
Mianmian, do you feel sorry for me, or do you just pity me?
On the surface, he withdrew his finger unhurriedly, his movements restrained. “Thank you.”
Pity me, then. But pity only me.
Feel sorry for me, then. But feel sorry only for me.
Ruan Zhimian, you were the one who approached me first.
The driver called. Ruan Zhimian locked the wardrobe and went downstairs with his laptop bag. Shi He walked down with him, acting quite considerate. “I’ll see you to the car. Han He’an might try to chase you down.”
“Thank you.”
Just as Shi He expected, Han He’an was indeed downstairs.
However, because he had been forcibly restricted from entering due to his previous violation of releasing pheromones, he could only wait at the gate.
Ruan Zhimian spoke to the driver. “Please drive to my dormitory entrance.”
Three minutes later, the Ruan family driver pulled over and opened the door for Ruan Zhimian. His beautiful, cold dark eyes didn’t spare even a glance for Han He’an. After saying goodbye to Shi He, he ducked into the car.
Until the door was pulled shut, Han He’an only saw Ruan Zhimian’s exquisite and indifferent profile. He didn’t manage to say a single word.
“Shi He!!”
Shi He rolled up his sleeves. He was dressed in a simple black outfit that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist—exceptionally eye-catching.
He always seemed to outshine him with ease.
Han He’an strode over. “Stop right there.”
Shi He looked at Han He’an flatly. “What is it?”
“Are you going to fight me for Ruan Zhimian?”
Shi He turned to leave. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”
Han He’an followed him.
This was an activity room rebuilt on the grounds of an old dormitory building. It hadn’t been officially put into use yet and was still being finalized.
As soon as they entered the room, Shi He closed the door as if it were nothing.
He lifted his long leg and kicked Han He’an directly to the ground. He had studied combat since childhood; every strike was internal, causing suffocating pain without shedding a drop of blood.
Previously, he simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with him.
Han He’an never expected this. After all, in all his years of misbehaving, he had practically walked with his head held high. Where had he ever suffered such a beating?
S-grade amber pheromones gradually spread through the air, crushing down with a powerful and terrifying force. It was accompanied by a wave of emotionless words: “Fight you for him?”
“You were eliminated by him a long time ago.”
“Even if he doesn’t like me right now, he doesn’t like you either.”
Covered in dust, Han He’an was in both pain and a pathetic state.
The usually cold Alpha stood quietly, watching the lower-tier Alpha who had just struggled to crawl up fall back to the ground. Suppressed by the high-concentration, high-tier pheromones, Han He’an couldn’t even manage to crawl.
“I remember you enjoy using your pheromones to oppress others. Today, you tried to use those filthy methods to scare him, hoping he’d throw himself into your arms.”
“Why don’t you try? Can you even stand up now?”
He crawled up and fell down countless times. Eventually, he didn’t even have the strength to beg for mercy.
Before Han He’an blacked out, the last thing he heard was the sound of the door closing.
…
At the Ruan residence, Ruan Zhimian’s face was scrunched up as he finished his Chinese medicine. He then hugged a cup of sweet apple-orange tea. Sitting across from him, Ruan Xubai watched his brother, thinking he was adorable. He unscrewed a tin and handed him a plum.
Ruan Zhimian bit into the plum meat—it was sweet and sour.
“Thanks, Ge.”
Ruan Xubai had returned today for serious business. “Mianmian, did Han He’an propose to you at school today?”
He finally saw the signs of his brother breaking up, and he wanted nothing more than to set off fireworks all night in celebration.
“I didn’t say yes.”
His freshly washed hair hung softly over his forehead as he answered obediently, “I’ve already settled it with Dad. I’m going to break off the engagement.”
Ruan Xubai: “I’ll go with you.”
“Ge is the best.”
Teng Yu, who had returned with them, appeared from downstairs. His red curls were particularly eye-catching, especially under the lights.
Ruan Xubai and Ruan Zhimian closed their eyes in unison, only opening them when Teng Yu approached. “I’m this handsome, and you’re blinded by my radiance?”
Ruan Xubai: “This is the first time I’ve felt that someone’s hairstyle is too loud.”
Ruan Zhimian blinked. “A-Yu is very cute.”
Teng Yu picked up his chopsticks to eat, then leaned in to whisper to Ruan Zhimian, “Did you blacklist Shi He?”
“How did you know?”
Teng Yu handed over his phone. “Look.”
It was an anonymous forum account, featuring the latest entry in an Online Dating Diary.
[The Blacklisted One: I’ve been blocked.]
With a clack, Ruan Zhimian’s chopsticks hit the floor. He muttered to himself, “I didn’t see anything. I didn’t see anything.”
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