Chapter 18: The Aristocratic Boys' School Detective — Chapter 18

The sound of Yuwen Qing's footsteps gradually faded until it could no longer be heard.

Silence returned to the surroundings, broken only by faint breathing and the conversation between Si Jing and a staff member, its contents indistinct.

...The restraints on his body hadn't loosened at all. The man's solid arms coiled around him like a python.

Ji Yue struggled, squirming a few times.

He couldn't push him away no matter what.

The crisis had passed. Logically, the game of hide-and-seek should have been over.

He grabbed the hand covering his face, but it stayed motionless like a mask.

...Why do you insist on holding me?

His voice, mingled with discomfort and fury, was smothered in the man's palm, sounding like a whimper.

Outsiders naturally couldn't hear a thing, and Si Jing had no idea that Ji Yue was right there in the locker room beyond a single door, being held against another man's body.

—Finally, the force around him eased slightly.

The moment that hand moved away from his face, Ji Yue shoved the other away with all his strength.

Go die!

He retreated half a step in a rage, putting some distance between himself and He Yuanxi, fists clenched tight.

[So weird! When did He Yuanxi come in? Before you did?]

Ji Yue didn't know either, but that wasn't the point.

The locker room was very quiet, and his uneven, furious breathing was plainly audible, like a hissing cat.

Seeing his face had gone pale, the system hurried to comfort him that everything was fine.

Only, there were several finger marks on his cheek, as if a man had just gripped his face to do something to him.

To any onlooker, this was a palm-sized little face, pale, delicate, long-lashed, eyes lowered—like a long-haired porcelain doll, giving the illusion that his personality must be just as soft and pure. In truth, one look at those icy blue eyes was enough to know that was absolutely not the case.

It was the same now. The boy stared coldly at He Yuanxi, without the slightest hint of gratitude—instead, like a cat whose tail tip had been stepped on, thoroughly on guard.

Ji Yue wiped his face hard with his sleeve, again and again, as if something filthy had touched it.

Even though the gently swaying clothing racks before him reminded him that, if He Yuanxi hadn't helped him just now, he would already have been caught by Yuwen Qing.

He Yuanxi silently rose from beside the racks, picked up the T-shirt draped nearby and put it on, then glanced in the direction where Si Jing was talking. Faint voices still came from the corridor—they hadn't left—and his eyes looked like he was watching a good show.

He withdrew his gaze and turned to Ji Yue: "You're here looking for your boyfriend? Well, you didn't pick the wrong place."

"..."

No, he wasn't.

The detective had come to the island purely to investigate, not to fall in love.

[Can no one explain to He Yuanxi that you and the honor student are completely innocent!]

[Or maybe he just likes being the third party? That's not right!]

None of my business.

Ji Yue regained his composure and turned to leave.

He had come to the auditorium only to observe the relationship between the F4 and the honor student; he had no intention of indulging such niche hobbies.

Ji Yue crossed the corridor. Si Jing was at the other end, hadn't noticed him, still talking with the staff member. Reaching the exit and entering the auditorium seating, Si Jing looked left and right, seemingly searching for something.

His gaze didn't fall on the F4 in the first row. Si Jing turned and found a seat in the back rows.

So he wasn't waiting for the F4.

Judging by the first row's reaction—none of them even lifting their heads—the F4 seemed utterly indifferent to the honor student's appearance too.

This confirmed his guess: the relationship between the honor student and the F4 was not good.

There were still some empty seats at the back of the auditorium. Ji Yue picked one at random, which happened to be an uncomfortable chair that dug into his backside.

On stage, a male student was singing "Unforgettable Tonight." Ji Yue didn't know who he was, nor could he take in the lyrics. One of the back-row lights had gone out, leaving his vision dim, and the singing was soft and limp, like a layer of soft pajamas draped over his head.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, he sensed someone sitting down beside him.

Ji Yue cracked his eyes open a slit.

In the dim light, a young man in black sat ramrod straight beside him, profile handsome, gaze clean.

Ji Yue's drowsiness scattered a little. Hadn't this person been sitting up front just now?

Si Jing immediately noticed his gaze, turned his face, and chatted with him warmly.

Si Jing's smile at that moment was perfectly calibrated—excited, natural, with a touch of surprise: "You came to see the school anniversary too? What a coincidence, the moment I saw you I came right over."

"What?"

Ji Yue wasn't fully awake yet and was a bit impatient.

"You saw through me?" Si Jing felt guilty, assuming his staged "coincidental encounter" had been exposed, and his face took on a slightly nervous look. "Ji Yue, I heard you were backstage. I looked around for ages but couldn't find you."

"What do you want with me."

"Are you still going to Yancheng?"

"Mm."

"Good."

Si Jing lowered his eyes.

Even so, he was still intimidated by Ji Yue—the inexplicable temper, the sudden attacks, like a loudly hissing wildcat whose every punch made stars dance before his eyes.

Si Jing's gaze carefully landed on Ji Yue's face, not daring to look too long, afraid of annoying him—afraid the next second he'd fly into a humiliated rage and say he wasn't going anymore.

Thinking of this, he mocked himself inwardly: they hadn't even started dating and he was already henpecked?

After this bout of self-mockery, Si Jing felt somewhat better. Being afraid of your wife was perfectly normal. Who wasn't afraid of their wife?

Meanwhile, Ji Yue was staring blankly at the stage.

Another figure appeared at his side. Someone walked straight over and sat down next to Ji Yue.

It was Yan Min.

Ji Yue yawned: "What are you doing here?"

Yan Min was dressed very formally, a dark black suit and shirt, utterly out of place among the students in sportswear and casual clothes beside him.

"I saw you just now. Wanted to chat with you."

Yan Min's tone always carried an inherent, taken-for-granted quality.

"Chat about what?"

"Any plans for the holiday?"

"Going home. Traveling."

As Ji Yue spoke, he glanced at Si Jing on his left. He could feel that person's gaze shooting at him like an arrow, especially when he mentioned traveling.

[Because you just said you were going home to travel with the honor student.]

'No contradiction. I can also travel with an F4 or some random passerby.'

[True enough. The honor student really doesn't know what's good for him!]

Yan Min nodded: "When the time comes, you'll come to my home?"

[His tone sounds like he's asking whether you're coming home for dinner tonight. He can't be saying it for someone else's benefit, right! So weird, why are two of the F4 both inviting you to their homes?]

"If I have time, I'll go."

(If you love reading—novel porter—Weibo @鹿饼怡怡—let's read together)

Ji Yue brushed it off perfunctorily.

On the right, Yan Min's faint smile clearly took this answer as a promise: "I'll be waiting for you there."

On the left, Si Jing's gaze remained fixed on Ji Yue the entire time.

[Tsk tsk, they both hope you'll go back to their hometowns.]

Ji Yue was sandwiched between the two of them. He didn't look at either one, gazing over the heads in front at the empty center of the stage, thinking that he had to launch another important investigation during the holiday.

"Time probably won't allow it by then." Si Jing abruptly brought up scheduling. "The round trip takes ages. Some big shots never learn to plan itineraries properly and just end up exhausting their travel companions. That won't do. Getting on in years, and out of touch with young people's interests."

"Aside from art, Lower City doesn't actually have much worth seeing. If Ji Yue is interested, I'll take you there myself. It's too filthy and chaotic there—not suitable for you to go alone." Yan Min didn't seem angry at all, answering in an unhurried manner.

Si Jing snorted with laughter.

Hearing this, Ji Yue finally showed some interest. Yan Min had actually been to Lower City? That was a detail the original novel never mentioned.

The anniversary celebration still had over half an hour to go. The room was crowded and the air conditioning was blasting. Sitting so long, Ji Yue felt even his thighs going cold, in dire need of a jacket over his legs.

His own clothes had been left backstage, so he could only rub his legs.

The people beside him shifted slightly, watching his movements.

His thighs were very white, pressed softly against the edge of the seat, the chair's rim leaving a faint red mark that stood out starkly against the pale skin.

Si Jing was quick-eyed and quick-handed—he'd already taken off his jacket and draped it over Ji Yue's legs: "Use mine to block the cold."

The fabric still carried his body heat, covering him with warmth.

"Still cold?"

Yan Min asked him.

Ji Yue glanced at Yan Min, said nothing, only nodded.

Yan Min promptly got up to adjust the air conditioning temperature and brought back a blanket as well.

[Weird, why are these two so eager... they've got the makings of beasts of burden for you!]

The finale act took the stage. Two boys bare to the waist came up carrying wooden handles, holding what looked like a bottle of liquor, and the orderly atmosphere instantly ignited.

A fire-breathing show? A folk art—Upper City had no such thing. This was Lower City's folk custom, yet it now appeared in an aristocratic school's program.

A mouthful of liquor sprayed out, transforming into a jet of flame that scorched everyone's faces red, the atmosphere blazing. Someone shouted "Fire!" and the scene suddenly descended into chaos. Ji Yue looked up—the velvet curtain had already caught fire.

Amid cheers and laughter, the students put out the fire and scattered out of the auditorium in all directions.

Ji Yue had originally been walking out with Yan Min, but the crowd surged, and just as they squeezed to the doorway, a wave of people rushed over and tore them apart. He was pushed along with the current and somehow ended up in the open ground outside.

Ji Yue looked around. Yan Min was nowhere to be seen.

He decided to cut through the woods and take the shortcut back to the villa.

Pitch-black night, no lights in the woods. After a few steps, two snow-white beams of light shot out ahead, stinging his eyes shut. The two orbs of light were like a beast hidden deep in the forest, staring at him with a pair of yellow eyes.

Ji Yue found the car very familiar.

It was Yuwen Qing.

The engine stopped, the door opened, and a blond young man stepped out, following him unhurriedly, always keeping a few paces away—neither far nor near, like he was playing a game.

[Run, he's coming!]

Ji Yue frowned and quickened his pace.

At the bend, a hand reached out from behind and seized his arm.

The world spun.

By the time Ji Yue reacted, he'd already been lifted up face-to-face by Yuwen Qing, legs braced around the other's waist. Yuwen Qing picked him up as easily as lifting an ornament; after a few struggles, Ji Yue was set down on the car's hood.

The cold metal pressed against his thighs, chilling him into a shiver.

Yuwen Qing sat down beside him and asked: "What are you hiding from me all day for?"

Ji Yue was somewhat annoyed.

During the struggle just now, one of his shoes had fallen off somewhere. Gusts of cold wind crept from his sock up to his calf. The man beside him wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, chest muscles and upper arms exposed, looking completely impervious to the cold.

Ji Yue hugged his own arms.

Reason said to get close to him and learn the truth; emotion wanted to beat him up.

"Not talking again?"

The blond turned his face impatiently. Under the moon, the boy's face remained expressionless, icy cold, just watching his visitor.

Yuwen Qing smiled: "You talk plenty with Li Xihe and the honor student, don't you? But with me it's like this?"

A hand reached over and pinched Ji Yue's cheek.

That hand was deep tan, knuckles well-defined, and very warm, fingertips sinking into the tender white flesh of his cheek—a stark contrast.

Yuwen Qing forced his head up. His long, slender lashes fluttered unnaturally like butterfly wings, eyelids lowered, looking utterly frail—not struggling, not moving.

What the hell?

"My legs are cold."

Ji Yue suddenly said.

"Hm?"

"My body's cold too."

"..."

"Yuwen Qing, is something wrong with you? I should go."

Cold where, exactly?

Yuwen Qing withdrew the hand pinching his cheek, lowered his head and scanned him up and down. Ji Yue was wearing plenty, except for his legs.

Pale, tender thighs pressed against the car hood, round knees, and below them slender calves without a single flaw—somehow missing a shoe, wearing only a green-striped Christmas sock.

Yuwen Qing's gaze lingered on his thigh for a second, then moved to his face.

A sorry sight, but the expression was cold, an extremely sulky face.

Yuwen Qing sneered inwardly—how could anyone pursue someone while wearing such a sour face?

Deliberate, surely. Playing hard to get or something.

Yuwen Qing laughed coldly: "I'll drive you back, alright? Get down."

"I'm missing a shoe."

"You can still walk. It's just a few steps."

"My sock will get dirty. Go find my shoe and give it back."

"What the hell, if it's lost it's lost."

Yuwen Qing couldn't be bothered to go look for the thing.

He lowered his head, glancing at Ji Yue, his gaze sliding down from his face.

The cold-faced beauty and his Christmas sock.

This is acting spoiled, right?

Ji Yue only saw the man suddenly walk over, lift him up and stuff him into the passenger seat. The next second, the door slammed shut.

Yuwen Qing circled the hood, got into the driver's seat and started the engine, without even sparing him a glance.

Psycho.

Life went on, and the interview had to begin too.

In the car, Ji Yue expressionlessly began the interview: "I have a sociology survey, about the cultural conflict between Upper City and Lower City. What do you think of the honor student as a person?"

"Trash."

Yuwen Qing spat out a single word, in a tone of utter contempt.

"Your relationship is that bad?"

"You two seem awfully close though. What's your relationship?"

"Friends."

"Heh."

"Did you know each other before?"

"You tell me first—what's our relationship?"

Yuwen Qing cut him off directly.

"..."

Before an answer came, the brakes hit and the car stopped at the roadside.

Yuwen Qing had blond hair, dark skin and light green eyes, always giving off an impression of arrogance and difficulty—and the reality matched.

"Won't answer this kind of question either? Playing dead?" Yuwen Qing rested one hand on the steering wheel, turning his head to mock him. "Where was this attitude when you were stalking me?"

In the dim, spacious cabin, a dangerous, taut atmosphere spread.

[Why do I feel like he kind of wants to, you know.] The system trailed off, hesitant.

"Are you still cold now?"

Yuwen Qing asked abruptly.

"A little."

"Princess Socks, what do you want me to do?"

Yuwen Qing answered in a weird, mocking lilt.

Ji Yue had no intention of engaging at all.

Very suddenly, a hand gripped his thigh, the skin hot, scalding, curling around the back of his knee.

Before he could even frown, a blanket was flung over him, covering him head to toe.

"Your body really is pretty cold. Keep it on."

With that, Yuwen Qing drove on.

The system fainted from rage: [What on earth does this guy want??? I can't take it!]

Half an hour later, the car finally stopped at the villa's entrance, but the doors stayed locked.

Ji Yue was trapped in the car, getting sleepy. Wrapped in the blanket, he looked at Yuwen Qing for the third time.

"If you've got nothing to do, you can continue with the interview."

If you're not having a rabies episode, that is.

Ji Yue spoke; Yuwen Qing listened, but answered neither yes nor no.

He was watching Ji Yue too.

An extremely beautiful face, a frigid temper, and a prickly personality. And someone like this liked him—liked him enough to stalk him like a madman.

"Done listing your interview questions?" Yuwen Qing asked him.

"Mm."

"Seems this assignment matters a lot to you... I can answer. What will you give me in exchange?"

Ji Yue's face remained expressionless as he asked: "What do you want?"

He was just an ordinary detective. He had nothing any powerful figure could want.

Incomprehensible. What exactly did Yuwen Qing want?

[He wants to fuck you.]

The system was concise and to the point.