Chapter 16 The Cold and Beautiful Professor (16)

Chapter 16: The Alluring Professor

Shadows danced in the night, the deepening twilight interwoven with the bright halos of streetlights. Shen Juan’s figure, outlined by the evening hues, appeared strikingly frail. His clothes, soaked in alcohol, clung damply to his body.

Behind his glasses, Shen Juan’s eyes held a chilling coldness and profound weariness.

The wind stirred up loose sand, which drifted slowly, like rootless duckweed. Wheels rolled forward, the incessant clatter of the shared bicycle drumming against Shen Juan’s eardrums.

Shen Juan looked up to see a tall, slender youth confidently gripping the handlebars, twisting them to the limit. His hair and leather jacket were tousled by the wind, giving the impression he was racing a sports car, though he was merely riding a starkly contrasting shared bicycle.

Upon seeing him, the youth’s sharp, handsome brows curved into a smile, his eyes shining brightly.

This sight coaxed a rare, faint smile from Shen Juan, but his demeanor was typically aloof, and this fleeting smile was like a reflection on water—beautiful yet insubstantial.

Qi Yan arrived in a rush, braking with one foot. He shed his jacket, walked over, and extended a hand, then swiftly pulled Shen Juan under the street lamp.

He silently observed Shen Juan’s slightly flushed eyelids and the pervasive scent of alcohol. Qi Yan spoke, "Take off your clothes and put on mine."

It was a declarative statement, leaving no room for Shen Juan to refuse.

Shen Juan was drenched and sticky, the wind making him shiver with cold. Qi Yan helped him remove his wet outer garments and then draped his own jacket over him, his voice heavy: "Did they force you to drink?"

He was aware of Shen Juan’s family background; after his mother remarried, she and his stepfather went into business together. What was ostensibly a family banquet also included business associates.

Inevitably, Shen Juan would be pressured to drink.

Shen Juan’s alcohol tolerance was poor, and he disliked drinking. Yet, those people still forced him. Qi Yan’s dark eyes fixed intently on him.

Chin raised, Shen Juan shook his head. "I’m not drunk."

He hadn't drunk a drop. The pervasive smell of alcohol was actually due to being splashed with liquor; his clothes had "drunk their fill," but he hadn't consumed any, let alone gotten drunk.

Shen Juan recalled his mother’s hysterical expression, her eyes now betraying an undeniable weariness. After all this time, she still couldn’t accept his love for a man.

After the business friends left, she roughly dragged Shen Juan back to the living room, forcing him to kneel and apologize, demanding he divorce and find a new partner.

Even with his sister and brother-in-law attempting to reason with her, she relentlessly pressured him to end the marriage he had chosen.

She claimed he was almost thirty, that if he didn’t marry soon, he’d be old, no girl would marry him, he’d never have children, and he’d die alone at home someday.

How utterly ridiculous.

No matter how cold and unfaithful his lover might be, Shen Juan’s heart couldn’t quicken for anyone else. If Qi Yan didn’t return, he’d rather cling to that soulless shell and live out his life that way.

Besides, Qi Yan had already gotten him pregnant—how could he claim he wouldn’t have his own child? The baby would be the fruit of his and his lover’s bond.

He didn’t yield.

Cold liquor splashed over him, and his mother continued her shrill accusations that he grew more disobedient with age. Shen Juan felt so tired, and he missed his cold-hearted lover so much.

Shen Juan lowered his gaze to his slightly trembling fingertips, his voice soft, tinged with a hint of grievance: "…I think I might really be a little drunk."

He took a deep breath, almost in resignation, and rested his head on Qi Yan’s shoulder: "My head aches, my body hurts. You know, I’m truly exhausted."

Qi Yan embraced him, his arms wrapping around Shen Juan’s waist.

He held the person in his arms tightly and whispered, "Teacher Shen, I’m here for you."

Qi Yan’s warm, moist breath seemed to transform in an instant into a mist that clouded Shen Juan’s eyes, blurring his vision.

The wind ruffled Shen Juan’s bangs, the crimson flush at the young man’s temples searing Qi Yan’s heart.

Qi Yan’s expression was concealed in the darkness, eerily spectral. He gently encircled Shen Juan: "Tell me, who forced you?"

Shen Juan remained silent.

Qi Yan said, "Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to them."

He would utterly destroy those people.

Shen Juan leaned softly into Qi Yan’s embrace. The young man’s arms were as warm as an unquenchable flame. His fingertips lightly brushed Qi Yan’s Adam’s apple as his eyes slowly closed.

His boy had grown so young.

Shen Juan’s voice was dazed: "Am I really getting a bit old?"

So that was why his mother used age to pressure him.

Qi Yan’s gaze was dark and intense as he looked at him. He smoothed Shen Juan’s disheveled hair and said, "Teacher Shen, to me, you’re not old at all. And I have ways to make you live past a hundred. Do you believe me?"

In a tone half-joking, half-serious, he added, "There’s a yellow chick near you—a spirit only I can see. Whatever you wish for, I can make it happen for you."

Triple Zero abruptly turned around, presenting half its perky backside to him.

Qi Yan: …

Shen Juan didn’t know whether to believe it or not, but the look of confusion finally left his face.

He quickly composed himself, his earlier vulnerability seeming like an illusion. He pressed an index finger against Qi Yan’s shoulder, straightened up, and handed him the car keys. "My car’s nearby. Drive me home."

Qi Yan replied, "Okay."

The car’s interior was cramped. Qi Yan and Shen Juan sat together in the back seat, waiting for the designated driver Qi Yan had called.

Qi Yan assumed Shen Juan had been drinking, and since he himself didn’t have a license, he had no choice but to find someone else to drive.

But just minutes after he placed the order, the sky suddenly burst into a torrential downpour. Bean-sized raindrops pounded the ground, splashing startling sprays of water. The driver canceled the booking.

They were trapped inside the car, the presence of the person beside him palpable, weaving boundless, intoxicating fantasies.

After a long while,

Qi Yan turned his head and caught Shen Juan’s gaze meeting his. Their eyes locked, and he saw the faint curl of Shen Juan’s lips. The undercurrents swirling between them were no less turbulent than the water winding across the ground.

Something crashed down like the pouring rain, urgently gripping Qi Yan’s throat.

Shen Juan’s shoulder bumped against Qi Yan’s chest, his leg inadvertently brushing Qi Yan’s calf. Their warmth seeped into one another.

This electric sensation seemed to come alive, racing through every bone in Qi Yan’s body, making his throat burn with thirst.

Qi Yan caught the strong, sweet scent of liquor on Shen Juan and saw Teacher Shen actively leaning closer. In the shimmer of their exchanged glances, morality and shame were cast aside, replaced by excitement and thrill.

Shen Juan suddenly wrapped his arms around Qi Yan’s neck, his warm, orchid-scented breath spraying against Qi Yan’s neck, as if to melt his very spine.

He said to Qi Yan, "There’s... no one else here."

The faint, spicy scent of liquor from Shen Juan drifted into Qi Yan’s nostrils, his husky, lazy tone.

Qi Yan’s throat bobbed subtly, again and again. "Teacher Shen, do you know who I am?"

Swoosh—

Dark clouds loomed overhead as the rain fell fiercely and densely. Qi Yan pressed his palm firmly against Shen Juan's snow-white neck, feeling the sensually feverish pulse of the married man entirely under his control.

A faint, pleased smile curled at Qi Yan’s lips as he leaned in closer.

His tone was laced with teasing ambiguity: "Even if you recognize me now, it’s already too late."

A delectable beauty delivered right to his doorstep—why would he let such an opportunity slip? Qi Yan’s eyelashes lifted with delight.

His silhouette was cast in the interplay of streetlights and pouring rain—half kissed by light, half shrouded in shadow. In the flickering dimness, his disheveled hair revealed a mesmerizing widow’s peak and deep-set eyes, accentuating his striking, dangerous handsomeness.

And in his gaze, there was only Shen Juan.

Shen Juan’s slightly ill-fitting jacket hung loosely open, exposing the elegant, delicate lines of his collarbone. The dim rainy night, illuminated faintly by streetlights, also highlighted his slightly flushed, refined cheeks.

Qi Yan saw him smiling at him.

Even just sitting properly in the car seat, Shen Juan’s graceful posture felt, to Qi Yan, no different from an open invitation.

Qi Yan admitted he was bewitched.

His grip gradually tightened until he could feel the shape of Shen Juan’s bones without any barrier. They were so close that even their hair seemed to tangle.

With a curved smile, Qi Yan raised his index finger to his lips: "Shh, let tonight be our secret."

"I won’t tell any of those meddlesome men."

He emphasized the word "meddlesome" with weight and intent.

As he leaned in, an intense pressure followed. Shen Juan’s thick lashes trembled slightly—whether in confusion or shared excitement, it was hard to tell.

Shen Juan tilted his head gently, resting his cheek against Qi Yan’s palm, both obedient and alluring.

Like a rain-drenched flower waiting to bloom.

Qi Yan’s thumb stroked his soft, warm cheek. He lowered his head and gently nipped Shen Juan’s shoulder, his hot breath washing over Shen Juan’s throat like a relentless tide.

A look of genuine satisfaction spread in Qi Yan’s eyes—Shen Juan’s gaze remained hazy, blurred with an intoxicating drunkenness.

Qi Yan’s fingertip traced the delicate hollow of the man’s collarbone: "Teacher Shen, from now on, don’t let any other man kiss you."

He lifted his head and mischievously bit Shen Juan’s Adam’s apple, forcing a muffled gasp from his throat. Only then did Qi Yan seem satisfied: "Otherwise, I’ll bite even harder."

He drew even closer, lifting Shen Juan’s legs to wrap around his waist: "Let me have my way with you a little, Teacher, won’t you?"

A blush spread across Shen Juan’s face. He let out a soft groan, his hands half-bracing against Qi Yan’s shoulders: "Don’t…"

At this moment, any refusal felt like flirtation to Qi Yan. He stroked Shen Juan’s soft hair, then gently bit the frame of his glasses and tugged them off, letting them fall helplessly onto the car seat.

Just like their owner—powerless, trapped under the man’s control.

The rain poured heavily, its sound fierce and intense.

Something was falling out of order tonight, collapsing. Everything was chaotic, and yet, everything could be forgiven.

Shen Juan’s jacket hung open, his suit pants wrinkled, but he remained largely still dressed.

Qi Yan didn’t remove his clothes—instead, he even kindly fastened the undone buttons of his jacket. From head to toe, Shen Juan was wrapped up tightly.

He appeared even more aloof, and with those glasses, he carried an intense aura of an intellectual elite.

Even marriage hadn’t diminished this quality—instead, it amplified others’ dark, messy desire to debase him.

Qi Yan openly revealed his dangerous, shadowy pupils and the sharp edge of his seduction.

A sense of peril and the man’s burning intensity enveloped Shen Juan, whose lashes trembled slightly in discomfort.

Qi Yan held the beautiful married man tightly, his own hair damp with sweat from excitement and hidden tension, clinging to his face.

He settled Shen Juan on his lap and licked the tip of his ear: "Teacher Shen, guess whether I can make this car shake until the rain stops."

Shen Juan’s fingers, clutching Qi Yan’s clothes, turned faintly white. Frowning, his face flushed with a delicate rosy hue, he breathed in the strong scent of alcohol in the car—so much that he almost felt truly drunk.

Shen Juan frowned warningly: "...Don’t ruin me."

Qi Yan watched him furrow his brows slightly in annoyance, but even then, the red mole between Shen Juan’s eyebrows made him look irresistibly captivating, stirring Qi Yan’s heart.

Truthfully, he hadn’t planned to do anything to Shen Juan while he wasn’t fully conscious. But he still intended to collect some interest now—and when Shen Juan was sober, he’d make him repay everything in full, principal and interest alike.

Qi Yan let out a short, low laugh and licked his teeth: "Mm, I won’t break you."

But he could dirty him.

With ease, Qi Yan turned Shen Juan around, his back now pressed against Qi Yan’s chest.

Suddenly, he gripped Shen Juan’s chin fiercely, forcing him to look out at the rain-lashed, muddy, chaotic night.

In the distance, skyscrapers glittered with colorful neon lights.

Qi Yan made the man in his arms look up: "See, don’t those lights look like eyes?"

He sighed, his tone almost mock-pitying: "I wonder if one of them looks like your husband."

"What do you think he’s doing right now? Still working hard for your sake, perhaps?"