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Su Yundai realized she had forgotten to close the window. The window banged noisily in the wind.
She got up and reached out to shut it.
The downpour lashed against her hand with sharp slaps.
A flash of lightning struck, revealing the shadow of a figure.
Someone was standing in the rain holding an umbrella, tilting the canopy upward, as if looking in her direction.
“Ah!”
Startled, she slammed the window shut with a bang.
Her heart pounded violently. She held her breath, cupped her hands against the glass for a better look—there was no shadow anymore.
Four in the morning.
At this hour, no one should be passing by, right?
Had she imagined it?
She crawled back under the blanket, clutching the bead bracelet on her wrist, and squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t know how long had passed before a ringtone pulled her out of her half-asleep haze.
Too drowsy to open her eyes, she groped for her phone. Her eyelids finally flew open when she saw the three characters: Shang Beize.
She hurried to answer. Her voice was still thick and sticky with sleep, like syrup that wouldn’t stir: “Ah, I overslept.”
Outside, the sun was blazing—it was definitely late.
Luckily, the man’s voice on the other end carried no anger. But he didn’t speak immediately either. For a moment, she even thought the call had been cut off, until she squinted at the screen and confirmed it was still connected.
After a pause, his voice came, short and to the point: “I’ll send the driver to pick you up.”
Just for this short distance, he needed a driver?
“No need, no need, I can come by myself.”
“You sprained your ankle.”
“Walking’s not a big problem. I still have to wash up and eat breakfast, don’t make him wait.”
“If it’s ‘not a big problem,’ then it’s still a problem.”
Su Yundai: “…”
Before she could argue, he had already decided: “The car will be at your door in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?”
Su Yundai exclaimed: “Do you have any idea how long it takes a girl to put on makeup?”
“You look good without makeup.”
Beep—beep—beep—
He hung up just like that.
Such domineering behavior.
But then again, what girl wouldn’t feel secretly happy to hear “you look good without makeup”?
So she generously let that little bit of bossiness slide.
She glanced in the mirror. Aside from her eye bags—which after a sleepless night and crying didn’t really count as attractive under-eye “smiling eyes”—her features and face shape were indeed quite pretty.
There was no time for makeup. She ignored the eye bags, brimming with confidence, and went out bare-faced.
In ten minutes, she finished breakfast and got into his car, which took her straight to his home.
The vehicle drove into the underground garage. The garage was huge, and the driver led her to the elevator.
As she pressed the button, it suddenly hit her—and she nearly slapped herself.
She had actually come—alone—into a strange man’s home!!!
She had clearly planned last night to invite Liu Liye to hang out at her place. But after a sleepless night, her morning brain turned to mush, and she had actually let his driver bring her here!
Ahhh!
The elevator dinged. She hurriedly pressed B1, jabbing the button several times in panic.
But with another ding, the doors slid open.
Leaning casually against the wall at the entrance was Shang Beize. Arms folded, his tall frame came into view through the gap, eyes darkly fixed on her.
Running away now would definitely be impolite.
Definitely.
He looked at her, his calm voice serious: “Did I overestimate you?”
Su Yundai blinked, confused. “Huh?”
His brows drew slightly together as he studied her eyes. “Your eye bags are so heavy.”
Was he overturning his earlier “you look good without makeup” compliment?
Su Yundai: “!!!”
How could he? Absolutely intolerable!
That was her only joy this morning!
“I just didn’t sleep well last night!”
Shang Beize turned toward the living room, sounding doubtful. “Oh? Really?”
Grinding her teeth, Su Yundai found him so aggravating.
She caught up, fuming: “Try waking up in the middle of the night and staring at the ceiling until morning!”
“You’re so young, just going to school—how could you have such heavy worries?” he asked lazily, heading into the living room.
Su Yundai’s lips pressed thin, but before she could reply, Liu Liye—who was doing homework by the floor-to-ceiling window—turned his head and shouted:
“Just going to school? Just? Do you know how painful school is? Huh? Do you know?”
Su Yundai hadn’t expected that, even after getting stitches at the hospital last night, Liu Liye was already up doing homework this morning. She praised, “Wow, Xiao Ye, you’re so diligent, working on your homework first thing in the morning.”
“Wuuu, sis, I don’t want to go to school! Wuuu, I can’t do it, I can’t do it! I don’t want school, it’s too painful!” Liu Liye’s lips trembled, and his emotions suddenly spiraled out of control.
Su Yundai: “…”
Shang Beize chuckled coldly. “Thirteen minus seven equals four. Yeah, looks pretty painful.”
“Waaaah! Waaaah! I don’t want to go to school—!”
Huge tears streamed down his face. Children’s crying could shatter hearts—it was their weapon, and tears their endless ammunition.
Su Yundai: “…”
Her first instinct was to comfort him. “Ah, don’t cry, don’t cry… Thirteen minus seven? Hmm…”
She hesitated, then lied with a straight face: “Such a hard problem, no wonder it’s too much for a kid.”
“Crash—!”
Unfortunately, Liu Liye didn’t buy it. Crying harder, he swept all the pens off the table, then even knocked down the laptop.
Su Yundai gasped. “Xiao Ye! No! That’s uncle’s computer!”
Instinctively, she rushed to stop him.
But a strong hand grabbed her arm, pulling her firmly into an embrace.
Shang Beize pivoted sharply, shielding her with his back.
“Bang—!”
The laptop shattered, fragments scattering everywhere.
Su Yundai’s pupils quivered. In an instant, the good computer was destroyed.
Her breath caught at the sight of the wreckage.
Shang Beize, meanwhile, caught the faint fragrance of her hair. Almost without realizing it, he lowered his head. Something drew him closer, inch by inch.
The scent grew stronger, filling his lungs, intoxicating him. Temptation clawed at his self-control, dragging him down.
His body refused to obey, unwilling to let her go.
Every cell screamed to hold her tighter.
To embrace her. To never release her.
Su Yundai, jolted by the chaos, suddenly realized she was still in his arms—her face pressed against his solid chest, ears full of his pounding heartbeat, strong and wild.
Looking up, she found their faces so close she could see the shadow of his stubble. His masculine aura pressed against her bare skin, making her adrenaline surge.
Her heart skipped, ears burning. She quickly pulled away. “Thank you.”
The housemaid came to comfort Liu Liye, carrying him to the sofa.
“Come with me,” Shang Beize said, letting her go.
They walked outside into the courtyard.
Su Yundai noticed something strange: not a blade of grass grew in the yard. Instead, rockeries, streams, and bridges created a serene scene.
And—the paving stones had been replaced. Yesterday, she had seen smooth tiles. Today, they were swapped for slip-resistant ones.
Had Beize slipped here yesterday and, in anger, replaced them all overnight?
“He’s like this, and you still want me to take him?” Shang Beize asked.
She lowered her head, guilt weighing heavy.
This task was harder than she had thought.
Liu Liye was fragile—just a casual remark had sent him spiraling.
But she couldn’t say he was “spoiled,” not after how badly he had been beaten.
“…Sorry,” Su Yundai murmured.
She didn’t know what to do. The boy’s temper was extreme, but his breakdown had been real. Sending him away from here might only traumatize him further.
And despite the broken laptop, Shang Beize hadn’t lost his temper. His tolerance made this a safe place for the child.
So she mustered the courage to plead: “Maybe… could you endure a little longer? Honestly, your patience is rare. Anyone else would’ve yelled or hit him just now.”
“He probably didn’t mean it,” Shang Beize said evenly. “His health is poor. Development’s delayed. He might not have control yet.”
Though his tone was calm, his words carried remarkable tolerance.
Su Yundai blinked, eyes wide like she was looking at a Bodhisattva.
“He has severe allergic rhinitis. Last night he stayed here—woke frequently, crying. Long-term blocked nose and poor sleep can affect frontal lobe development, which impacts focus, temper, and self-control.”
Su Yundai, herself allergic as a child, instantly felt compassion. “We should find out what he’s allergic to. Ask his father.”
Shang Beize met her gaze, sunlight slanting to shadow her face. His voice was steady. “I asked.”
“And?”
“His father never took him for testing. He’s just been enduring it.”
Su Yundai gasped. “That’s such neglect!”
Her own family had always taken her to doctors.
Shang Beize continued, “In school, he must get scolded and mocked a lot. His reaction makes sense. At home, no support. If this goes on, the psychological damage will be irreversible.”
Su Yundai thought of her old Chinese teacher, who used to humiliate students publicly. Her own essays had been used as negative examples, read aloud for the class to laugh at.
It had scarred her deeply.
Urgently, she said, “Then we must ask about his school life, why he resists going.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” Shang Beize assured. “When his grandparents return, I’ll call them and suggest an allergy test.”
Sunlight played on his face, softening his hard features into unexpected gentleness.
So attentive. So caring.
She said softly, “Thank you for all this.”
“And thank you too,” he replied.
“…,” she muttered. Always reminding her of her share of responsibility.
She smiled faintly. “I understand. If you need me, just call.”
He nodded as if it were natural. “Going to the hospital later might be late. Come with me. Okay?”
“Of course!” she agreed.
But then his gaze fell on her eyes. She remembered her eye bags and turned away, embarrassed.
He pressed anyway. “You didn’t sleep well last night—because that Liu kid scared you?”
“No,” she said. “I was thinking whether I should continue in Life Sciences or switch to Computer Science. I’m afraid I’ll fail both. My brother’s in Tsinghua’s CS program, and I can’t even pass C University’s transfer exam. I feel useless.”
Shang Beize frowned, leading her to a pavilion where a golden tiered stand displayed exquisite desserts. A pot of steaming coffee filled the air with warmth.
“So what if it’s Tsinghua?” he asked, pouring her coffee.
“They’re stronger than us. Smarter. Better job prospects.”
“Jobs? You live here. You’re worried about jobs? Doesn’t your family care for you?”
“They do. They’re just busy.”
A fire burned in his chest. “Busy with their own careers? You cried like that and they didn’t notice?”
They hadn’t taught her well.
They had let society’s judgment crush her.
They hadn’t given her security.
Her brother had billions, yet she still worried about jobs.
They hadn’t given her confidence.
She was already stronger than most Tsinghua students, yet she still doubted herself.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“Fine. You weren’t. You’re just naturally born with eye bags.”
“…,” she muttered. “I was crying.”
At least she’d admit it.
He stared a moment, then slid a lotus pastry closer, almost coaxing.
Of course she worried about the future.
She didn’t have his family background.
What she had was temporary.
In this system, unless she was exceptional, she’d be discarded.
Even among the “exceptional,” if she wasn’t top-tier, she was branded a failure.
If she had to rely on her brother’s help, she’d only feel she hadn’t earned it.
She stuffed the pastry into her mouth, chewing ungracefully as her eyes reddened.
Shang Beize’s pupils tightened, breath catching. Hastily, he said, “In the future, even Tsinghua CS majors might not outshine C University Life Science grads.”
“How could that be?” she mumbled through puffed cheeks.
She’d never catch up to her brother, who was already making games in his freshman year.
Her emotions broke. Tears spilled, mingling with the pastry’s sweetness and a faint bitterness.
She jolted up. “I’ll check on Xiao Ye.”
But Shang Beize gripped her wrist tightly.
He wanted to say: I can give you money, safety, career guidance. I’ll teach you survival. I’ll give you time, wealth, reputation, status, confidence.
There’s no need for sadness.
But when he saw her panicked eyes, he swallowed the words.
She had forgotten him.
To her, they’d only just met.
But Wei Lin, her fiancé of fifteen years, still held her heart.
If Beize said the wrong thing, she’d vanish from him forever, like the phantom he kept seeing.
Jealousy burned through him, scorching his chest. His patience was like fire, painful and consuming.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he ground out, “You still have one more chance. C University’s Artificial Intelligence program accepts transfers from all freshman science students.”