Chapter 4: He Actually Has the Potential to Become a Yandere Lawbreaker…
Another suffocating stretch of silence followed.
Ding Ziyu couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but at this point, he was already starting to regret stirring up the trouble.
Originally, he’d planned to pick on that blockhead top student—both to curry favor with Young Master Nie and to settle a personal grudge.
He hadn’t expected Gu Yang to suddenly interfere.
What the hell was going on? Wasn’t that guy famously cold and indifferent—so detached he wouldn’t even spare a glance if someone jumped off a building at his feet?
Crap, crap. Everyone knew Nie Ying and Gu Yang didn’t get along. The two of them might clash without suffering much damage, but in the end, the unlucky one would definitely be a small fry like him.
Before the cold sweat on his forehead could even drip down, Gu Yang’s faint gaze had already settled on him.
“He dirtied your shoes?”
“…Yeah.” Ding Ziyu forced himself to answer.
“These shoes cost ten thousand?” Gu Yang asked again.
His tone was calm, but for some reason Ding Ziyu suddenly felt an inexplicable humiliation. He couldn’t even lift his head. His heart pounded as he clenched his teeth and said nothing.
When no answer came, Gu Yang took out his phone. “Your payment QR code.”
“…Y-you, what are you doing?” Ding Ziyu stammered.
“Paying for your shoes.” Gu Yang looked up and curved his lips slightly. “What? Do I need to lick them clean for you too?”
That line scared Ding Ziyu so badly his face turned white. Even if he had ten thousand times the courage, he wouldn’t dare let Gu Yang lick his shoes. In his panic, he actually opened his payment interface.
While transferring the money, Gu Yang felt a slight regret.
He’d kind of wanted to reenact that classic novel scene of throwing cash in someone’s face—but he hadn’t brought that much cash with him.
Only when the notification for the incoming payment chimed did Ding Ziyu belatedly realize what kind of idiotic thing he’d just done.
No matter how short on money he was, he couldn’t take Gu Yang’s money.
He stiffly turned his head—only to discover in horror that Nie Ying’s expression had grown frighteningly dark.
What the hell was going on? Since earlier, things had been too strange. It was as if the two of them had already exchanged a whole conversation on a channel he couldn’t see, and now he had no idea where Nie Ying’s anger was coming from.
Ding Ziyu wanted to cry. Caught between two towering Buddhas, he didn’t dare make a sound.
He didn’t understand—but Class Eleven, still watching the show, did.
They knew exactly what was happening, and they could foresee a battle about to erupt.
This wasn’t on the same level as before. In the past, Gu Yang would at most throw a few sarcastic remarks. Now he was practically launching a point-blank ultimate attack—though he himself didn’t seem aware of it.
Nie Ying would definitely throw a punch, that violent maniac.
The smile faded from the class monitor’s face. He pushed aside the people in front, preparing to step in at the right moment.
But under everyone’s gaze, Nie Ying didn’t make a move as expected. Slowly, grinding his teeth, he revealed a chilling smile. His icy stare wasn’t directed at an equal—it was like he was looking at some decorative object.
“With so many people watching, I won’t argue with you,” he said through clenched teeth. “In a couple of days, I’ll personally visit the Gu family. Then we’ll settle this properly.”
With that, he turned and left without sparing anyone another glance.
Only after that towering figure was gone did everyone finally breathe again.
“Jesus, that scared me. With that expression just now, I thought Nie Ying was about to swing a punch.”
“And he just left? I even had my popcorn ready—this is all we get?”
“By the way, what did Gu Yang mean by those thoughts earlier? Did any of you understand?”
“I-I just heard something about loving someone to death or whatever…”
“Huh? Gu Yang likes Song Yinxing? Like, loves him to death? For real?”
“Did you only hear half the sentence? He said if he helped Song just a little, Song would fall in love with him to death.”
“Damn, is Gu Yang that narcissistic?”
“No, there were a bunch of other lines earlier—it didn’t connect…”
Yu Bai scratched the back of his head. Everything had happened too fast and too densely; he’d forgotten the later parts after hearing the earlier ones.
“I also heard something about a snake face?”
“Uh… did Gu just fall in love at first sight with Song Yinxing? Think he’s some pure lotus rising from clear water—naturally beautiful, not artificial—while everyone else here is a plastic snake-faced goblin?”
“Damn it, I knew Gu Yang was using that face of his to insult people. So he really looks down on us? My face is all-natural, okay? That’s slander—pure slander!”
“The one above @TaroCoconutPudding, your phrasing is as steady as ever.”
“Didn’t he say something about a ruined future earlier…”
“Mm-hmm? What do you mean?”
“Wait, does that mean if Song Yinxing refuses to fall in love with Gu Yang, he’ll use the Gu family’s power to destroy his whole life?”
“You mean like those obsessive rich young masters in those Green River novels—forcing someone into love?”
At the thought that a classmate living right beside them might have the potential to become a yandere lawbreaker, the entire Class Eleven: “……”
Holy crap. That insane?
Yu Bai rubbed his chin, replaying the scene in his head. “That Song… what’s-his-name… sounds kinda familiar?”
“Are you stupid? Song Yinxing—the top student in our grade,” Ying Jiayi said in disgust. “He was admitted as the city’s number one in the high school entrance exam. Even I know that.”
“Wow, that’s pretty badass.”
Yu Bai said it without much feeling. He wasn’t particularly impressed by the top student—after all, they weren’t even on the same path. But once you added the prefix “Gu Yang,” Song Yinxing’s value in their eyes instantly changed.
Heavens—what kind of god-tier person could make Gu Yang, a tree that never blossoms, finally flower?
After everyone finished standing there in the wind, mentally scrambled, they suddenly realized—
Gu Yang had slipped away again.
Wait—
When Gu Yang left just now, it seemed he’d taken Song Yinxing with him.
If Gu Yang liked Song Yinxing, and now he’d called him away alone… was he planning to do something?
Yu Bai muttered, “He wouldn’t be… doing it right there, would he?”
Smack.
“Of course not.” The class monitor placed his hands on Yu Bai’s shoulders, smiling as he applied a bit of pressure. “Because our school forbids underage dating.”
Feeling an inexplicable sense of oppression, Yu Bai broke into a cold sweat. “Class monitor, mighty as ever. Truly our school’s walking moral role model.”
“It’s getting late. School’s almost out. Don’t crowd here and let other classes watch the show.” The monitor glanced at his watch. “I’ll go find A’Yang. You all head back to class.”
Though reluctant to miss more drama, they could only shuffle back under the monitor’s authority.
—
Gu Yang, having just arrived at the small grove behind the teaching building, stopped walking. Leaning casually against a tree, he raised a brow at Song Yinxing, who had been silently following behind him.
He had to admit that the tacky cover illustration had left too deep an impression on him. Only now, with Song Yinxing standing in front of him, did he realize the other boy was nearly half a head taller. His build was on the verge of shedding boyhood; though lean, the shadow he cast was enough to envelop Gu Yang.
“What is it?” Gu Yang asked.
Song Yinxing was silent for a long time. Those obsidian-like eyes stared at him deeply before he finally spoke.
“I’ll definitely pay you back the money. And besides that, I owe you once. How do you want me to repay you?”
If this person hadn’t intervened today, he couldn’t imagine how things would’ve ended.
“You owe me?” Gu Yang repeated teasingly, returning the words. “Then how do you want to repay me?”
“…Is there anything you like?” Song Yinxing pressed his lips together.
“If I had to say—stocks with potential, prime real estate…” Gu Yang actually thought about it seriously, glancing at the stiff expression on the other’s face. He tapped his chin lightly. His voice dragged slightly, sliding downward until it hooked at the collar of his shirt, and only then, as if remembering something, did he add with a barely perceptible chuckle, “…Oh right. And good-looking gemstones.”
Song Yinxing stared at him in silence.
Gu Yang couldn’t hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing—openly and without restraint, bending over so hard he nearly couldn’t straighten up. No one knew which line had hit his funny bone. He slung an arm around Song Yinxing’s neck for support.
“Don’t make that face. I’m kidding. I’m not short on money.” Seeing Song Yinxing’s expression still frozen, Gu Yang casually patted his cheek with the back of his hand. “You don’t need to repay me.”
Forced to bend slightly to match Gu Yang’s height, Song Yinxing didn’t lose his composure. In a hoarse voice, he asked the question that lingered in his heart.
“Why… did you help me?”
Gu Yang finally laughed enough and released him.
“Because it’s interesting. It’s practically fate.”
It really was too interesting. If this world weren’t a novel, if Song Yinxing weren’t the protagonist of this tragic story, he would never have had the chance to glimpse so many fascinating plots.
Compared to Gu Yang’s lack of personal boundaries and cryptic words, Song Yinxing stood there like an emotionless machine, eyes lowered.
“A’Yang.”
From behind the corner of the teaching building, a figure stepped out—who knew how long he’d been standing there. The class monitor smiled.
“The dismissal bell already rang. We should go.”
The smile faded from Gu Yang’s face. He withdrew his arm from Song Yinxing and turned toward the corner.
“Oh, right.” The monitor gave Song Yinxing a polite smile. “Student Song, regarding what happened today, I’ll handle it fairly and give you an explanation.”
Gu Yang yawned as he walked up to him. “Let’s go.”
The monitor nodded courteously to Song Yinxing before leaving with Gu Yang.
Song Yinxing stared deeply at their departing backs. The elongated shadows were finally cut off as they turned into the corridor, but that sticky, bone-clinging gaze seemed capable of penetrating walls.
After a long while, he finally let out a mocking laugh.
…Fairness, huh.
