Chapter 11: Invading Her Life

Si Tiantian held the velvety box in her hands. The cool, smooth texture carried just the right amount of weight, and a deep blue satin ribbon was tied around it in an exquisite bow.

Wherever her fingers touched, the temperature seemed to rise ever so slightly—along with the tightness in her chest. And yet, the corners of her lips couldn’t help but lift into a smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Li,” she said, her voice carrying a lightness she didn’t even realize was there.

“Mr. Li?”
Li Hanye’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. That title sounded like an invisible wall being placed between them—and he didn’t like the distance it implied.

“Call me by my name.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it held an unmistakable authority.

“Huh?”
Si Tiantian looked up, startled, her eyes flickering with confusion.

“That… might not be appropriate, right?” After all, they had only met a few times.

“Li Hanye,” he repeated, his tone still firm, but the gaze he cast her way was intent—soft, even—diluting the cold edge he usually carried.

Si Tiantian bit her lower lip, her fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of the gift box.

Calling a man who was practically a stranger by his full name took a bit of courage.

But in the end, that strange fluttering in her chest overpowered her shyness.

She lifted her eyes, met his gaze, and, so softly it almost dissolved in the breeze, she tried calling:

“Li… Hanye?”

“Mmm.”
He responded with a low hum, his voice brushing past her eardrums like a gentle current, faintly electric. The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly, and even his eyes glimmered with a trace of a smile.

He liked hearing her say his name in that soft, sweet voice. It made even those three syllables taste like honey.

They chatted casually for a bit longer under the dorm building. Most of it was Li Hanye finding light topics to ask about, while Si Tiantian answered with her head slightly lowered, voice soft.

Li Hanye’s gaze was tangible, always glued to her, and the intensity of his focus made her feel exposed.

She grew flustered under his unwavering stare, the pale skin on her neck blooming with a faint blush.

“I… I’m going back up now,” she said a little hastily. Any longer, and she felt like she might combust on the spot.

His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and though a trace of reluctance flickered in his eyes, he quickly picked up on her unease and nodded.

His eyes continued to follow her figure until her slender silhouette completely disappeared behind the dorm entrance—only then did he slowly withdraw his gaze.

As he turned, the rare softness on his face vanished instantly, replaced once more by his usual cool sharpness. He took long strides toward the car.

Lin Ke quietly started the engine, thinking to himself:
So this was what he called a “quick stop by.” At this rate, Master Han might as well have rerouted the entire city of Beijing.

—

Back in the dorm room, Si Tiantian placed the velvet box gently on the desk. Her fingers deftly untied the ribbon, then carefully lifted the lid. A wave of sweet fragrance instantly filled the room—inside were intricately crafted little cakes and mousses, looking as delightful as they smelled.

She picked out the cutest-looking strawberry mousse and handed it to Gu Yazhi:
“Zhizhi, come try this—it’s super pretty!”

Gu Yazhi walked over at the sound of her voice, dramatically sniffed the air with her nose, and her eyes lit up the moment she caught the scent. She reached out and took the mousse.
“Wow, Tiantian, where did you get this in such a short time?”

Si Tiantian’s cheeks turned a soft pink. Her gaze flickered before she mumbled quietly,
“I didn’t buy it… it was… it was Li Hanye. He said he was passing by and brought it over.”

“Hanye? Passing by?”
Gu Yazhi had just taken a bite of the mousse and almost choked on it when she heard that.

She looked at the clearly expensive dessert, then at Si Tiantian, who wore the guilty look of someone caught doing something secretive. Her face immediately filled with gossip-hungry excitement.

“From the Li Group headquarters all the way to our dorm building—what kind of ‘passing by’ is that? Even GPS would be confused! That’s basically crossing half of Beijing for you, my sweet little Tiantian!”

She threw an arm around Si Tiantian’s shoulders and leaned in close, lowering her voice conspiratorially:
“Come on, tell me honestly—is our Lord Hanye officially pursuing you now?”

Flustered, Si Tiantian waved her hands quickly, a deeper blush blooming on her cheeks.
“No, no, Zhizhi, don’t make wild guesses! He… he just accidentally bumped into me the other day and probably felt guilty, so… so he wanted to make it up to me!”

Even as she said it, the excuse sounded shaky to her own ears.

Gu Yazhi raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth lifting into a knowing smirk.
“Oh—” she drawled, dragging out the syllable meaningfully.

She didn’t press any further. Instead, she lowered her head and continued enjoying the beautifully crafted cake. But every now and then, when she glanced up at Si Tiantian, her eyes clearly said, I get it. I totally get it.

Si Tiantian felt awkward under her stare and quickly lowered her gaze as well, picking up a piece of matcha cake and nibbling on it in tiny bites.

The soft sweetness mingled with the hint of bitterness on her tongue, slowly melting and spreading, just like the indescribable feeling blossoming in her chest—confused, yet strangely satisfying.

—

In the days that followed, Li Hanye’s messages came like clockwork—like they were pre-scheduled—greeting her promptly each morning and night.

And they were no longer just the simple “Good morning” and “Good night.”
More and more, his texts included thoughtful, specific questions that caught her off guard with their attentiveness:

“Are you out of class yet? Did the teacher go overtime today?”
“What did you eat for lunch? Was the cafeteria food okay?”
“What are you doing right now? Reading? Chatting with classmates?”

Sometimes, he even sent casual snapshots of his day.

A photo taken from the giant floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, overlooking the bustling heart of Beijing, with cars weaving like threads through the city.
Or a blurred street view through the window of a fast-moving car, light and shadow blending in streaks.
Sometimes, it was a photo of him dining alone—a large table set for one, the background a quiet, empty restaurant, unintentionally carrying a touch of solitude.

These texts and photos felt more like nameless daily reports—intimate little updates that laid his life bare before her eyes.

At first, Si Tiantian had no idea how to respond. She’d feel flustered and awkward reading his messages.
But gradually, she grew used to the vibration of her phone.
Then slowly… she began to smile instinctively whenever her screen lit up with his name.

His presence seeped into her life—bold yet careful, persistent yet gentle.

And she realized—she didn’t dislike this feeling of being remembered.
In fact… there was a quiet, hidden joy blooming in her heart.

Sometimes, she even mustered up the courage to reply with a few short words, or to imitate him by sharing a photo—perhaps a golden campus sunset, or a quiet corner of the library.