Volume One, Chapter 11: Shall We Talk Again? Let Me Teach You Once More

Until the very end, she was utterly drained, lacking any strength in her body. She buried herself beneath the quilt, only hearing the sound of Pei Yanchuan getting out of bed to take a shower.

By the time Wen Yang regained her composure, the energetic young master had already finished his shower. Casually draped in a bathrobe, he stood by the coffee table, slicing a piece of cake.

At that moment, the phone resting on the coffee table rang.

He glanced at the caller ID with a half-lidded eye. Just as he was about to hang up, his slender fingers hesitated on the end call button, then unexpectedly answered the call.

With the speakerphone on, the voice on the other end was sweet and coquettish: "Brother Yanchuan, are you at the Wenhua Hotel? I brought you your favorite chocolate cake."

"No need, we’re not close," he replied curtly.

Xu Qiqi felt a bit embarrassed.

Though she could sense his impatience, the mere fact that he answered her call was enough to make her ecstatic.

Seizing the opportunity, she patiently continued, "Brother Yanchuan, we went to the same high school. We even had a meal together a few days ago, don’t you remember?"

"How about I wait for you on the first floor? You can come down when you’re done," she suggested.

He cut a slice of cake, took a small bite, then carried it into the bedroom, completely ignoring the voice still babbling on the other end.

The figure wrapped in the quilt on the bed left only a long cascade of disheveled curls spilling across the pillow.

He sat on the edge of the bed, a faint smile playing on his lips. Playfully, he pulled back the quilt covering Wen Yang’s head, revealing a scene brimming with vitality and allure.

Her slightly curled hair was tousled, highlighting the porcelain whiteness of her skin.

Pei Yanchuan bent down and gently brushed aside the fine strands on her forehead, unable to resist pressing a kiss there.

“Get up and eat?”

“Or should I feed you here in bed?”

When he offered the cake, Wen Yang turned her head away.

Yet, from the phone came that saccharine voice again, “Brother Yanchuan?”

Feeling overwhelmed by the cloying sweetness, she sat up, her mood slightly agitated, and brusquely pushed his arm away.

Gathering the scattered clothes and phone on the bed to cover her figure, she turned her back to him and walked into the bathroom as if he weren’t there.

After a quick rinse, she looked into the mirror, now fully dressed. Her delicate features had regained their usual cool detachment, though a lingering flush remained on her face.

She unbuttoned the top of her shirt and pulled it aside, revealing one bare shoulder. On the pale skin was a fresh, red bite mark—intensely suggestive.

Sliding open her phone, she snapped a photo before slowly buttoning her shirt back up.

Just as she finished, the phone on the sink rang with an unfamiliar number.

“Hello? Senior, this is Yin Hang,” came the voice.

At that moment, the bathroom door suddenly opened. In the mirror, she saw Pei Yanchuan enter.

He’d changed into a black shirt, the collar slightly open. Apparently oblivious to her call, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

The soft rustling of their shirts was intimate, his loose but firm embrace pressed tightly against her back.

His unruly charm softened the sharpness of his usual demeanor, giving him a roguish air.

“Hmm, your jacket,” Wen Yang said halfway, somewhat uneasy as she tried to push him gently away but failed. She continued, “I put it in the delivery locker downstairs at the dorm. You can pick it up directly.”

His husky voice whispered in her ear, “You finished washing so quickly, why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Thank you, senior. How about I treat you to dinner? There’s a new hotpot restaurant near the school…”

Two different voices filled her ears, but Wen Yang barely caught what Yin Hang was saying.

“No need, I’m hanging up,” she said, fearing Pei Yanchuan might say something outrageous if she delayed.

She cut the call immediately.

“Helping with laundry, inviting someone to hotpot—are little brothers these days really that clumsy at courting?” he teased lazily.

Pei Yanchuan rested his chin on her shoulder, his warm breath caressing the pale side of her neck.

Through the mirror, their eyes met, and then he steadily pulled her closer, embracing her with an overwhelming strength.

“Pei Yanchuan, let go,” she said, breath uneven from the closeness, her ears flushing red once again.

His gaze dropped from her eyes to her ear, brow raised in mockery. “Why do you still blush the moment I hold you? Haven’t dated anyone in three years?”

Wen Yang hesitated, her eyes flickering, unwilling to confess the truth.

“I did date, but we broke up.” No one knew if she was lying or not.

“Oh? Then your kissing skills are still as terrible as ever,” he said, his deep eyes fixed on her, hand still gripping tight, teasing, “Looks like your ex wasn’t very good either.”

“Sounds like you were a great teacher back then,” Wen Yang shot back instinctively, then immediately regretted the remark.

As expected, he tilted his chin, his usual laziness fading as he narrowed his eyes to meet hers in the mirror.

“I wasn’t a good teacher?”

“Fine, then how about we date again? I’ll teach you properly this time.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, though it was only a fleeting distraction.

“Pei Yanchuan, that joke isn’t funny at all,” she said, pursing her lips and taking a deep breath. “Have you forgotten?”

“The one you hate—the first love of your father—is my mother.”

She clenched her fists tightly, laying bare the awkward truth without reservation.

“My mother is now married to your father. Officially, I have to call you ‘brother.’”

“Brother?” Pei Yanchuan slowly released his hold on her waist. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, detached tone.

Wen Yang felt as if a breath had been blocked in her chest but forced herself to continue with hollow words: “The Pei family accepted my mother. If they also accepted me, I’d be willing to acknowledge you as my brother.”

“Too bad…”

“Too bad?” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he let out a cold laugh.

His unamused eyes were like shards of ice, sharp and piercing.

“Are you deliberately trying to disgust me, Wen Yang?”

“That’s why we can’t be lovers, nor siblings.”

“We should hate each other to the grave, never crossing paths again. No one should disgust the other.”

Wen Yang turned away, eyes fixed on the floor, preparing to leave.

But she hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Pei Yanchuan blocked her path. She moved left, he blocked right.

“You want a strategic marriage, a union of strengths. I want to live my own life.”

“Besides, I don’t like you anymore.”

Knowing he had enjoyed smooth sailing all his life, she thought her words would finally set her free.

Unexpectedly, suppressing his anger, his gaze dark and brooding, he tilted his head slightly. Even as their relationship shattered, he kissed her.

Wen Yang raised her hand to block him, but he caught her wrist and cupped the back of her neck, forcing a deep kiss.

The deeper the kiss grew, the fiercer the fire between them burned. The young master’s temper flared, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

The sound of their lips and teeth entwining echoed through the silent room, unraveling all reason and resolve.