It was already early September, but the temperature in A City remained oppressively high.
The students at A University were noticeably restless today.
The reason? Simple.
The campus was buzzing at the start of the new semester. Many freshmen had joined orientation group chats before arriving, constantly asking questions and curious about everything, from dorm arrangements to class schedules. Among all the colleges, the Art Department was by far the most vocal.
And nearly all the questions from the Art Department’s freshmen centered around one single person:
[Is it allowed to use Photoshop on your profile picture for A University’s official site?!]
[Does this new assistant teacher named Lu Chi really look like this?!]
[Image.JPG]
On the screen, a black-haired man looked into the camera with a faint smile. His features were strikingly sharp, with upturned eyes that seemed like the final, bold stroke of a master’s brush, reaching through the screen and scratching straight at your heart. It was almost offensively good-looking.
However, the image was clearly a screenshot, pixelated and blurry. Below it were the characters “Lu Chi”, probably copied from a nameplate or title card.
All ten freshman WeChat groups were flooded with this same photo, so opening the chat felt like playing a round of mahjong, inviting you for some casual tile-matching.
However, the upperclassmen were skeptical… The freshmen were suspicious… And everyone was doubting its authenticity.
[You believe this photo is real, or you believe I’m the Jade Emperor?!]
[Thanks for the tag, but I’ve been at A University for three years and I’ve never seen anyone this drop-dead gorgeous.]
[Tried to dig up some info, found nothing… must have a powerful backer.]
[Guess what part of my body I used to open this pic😉?]
[???]
[!!!]
And just like that, Lu Chi’s name instantly became the hottest topic of the semester’s opening week. And the Art Department didn’t help matters. Their schedule was relaxed, and Lu Chi didn’t live in the faculty dorms either. He’d spent the entire week either writing lesson plans or sleeping in, and hadn’t shown up on campus once.
So the rumors about the “heavily Photoshopped assistant teacher” only grew more outrageous.
The class he was teaching wasn’t even mandatory, but due to the buzz, every seat was filled within three days. Some people were even vowing to snap a candid picture of Lu Chi and post it to the university forum as a public takedown, hoping that his supposedly hideous appearance would dampen his vanity.
But damn it, why did the photo have to look that good?! It was messing with their hearts!
Lu Chi had absolutely no idea.
By the time he arrived, the massive lecture hall was already packed. Only a few seats remained empty, dead center in the first row, next to a tall young man who sat alone with his back straight and broad.
It was over 30°C outside, and even with the air conditioning on, the room was still as hot as hell. Yet that man had the sheer audacity to wear all black. Shirt and slacks, every crease immaculate. Not a single bead of sweat marred the back of his neck, but his expression was as pale and grim as a corpse. The two seats behind him were also empty. Students nearby seemed to recognize who he was and deliberately avoided sitting near him, their demeanor unmistakably respectful.
A freshman whispered in the back: “Who’s that guy?! Why does he look like some feudal grandpa?! He’s even more dramatic than I…”
The person being asked took one glance and instantly understood, smoothly rattling off a string of titles: “Him? That’s Liang Jiashu. Only son of the Liang Group. Twenty years old. Third-year grad student in Biochem. A genius researcher with more patents than you can count. Basically, the undisputed king of all A University’s celestial class students.”
“…”
Could that poor classroom even hold someone with that kind of résumé?!
“But why is a third-year biochem grad student in our class? Shouldn’t he be buried in a lab somewhere?” the freshman muttered suspiciously. “Don’t tell me he’s here to check out the new assistant teacher, too…”
That couldn’t be it, right?!
No way someone of his status would come over just to see some over-edited assistant teacher…
He was probably just passing by, right?!
The sun blazed through the windows, and the classroom buzzed noisily with chatter. Then, the very next second, theclassroom door suddenly opened, without warning.
A tall, lean man with black hair followed behind the professor, strolling casually into the classroom. He lifted his eyes and glanced around, a faint smile on his face.
The previously noisy and lively classroom fell suddenly silent.
The white-haired professor was puzzled but pleased. He nodded with satisfaction and began introducing himself with a cheerful smile.
Lu Chi stood on the stage, completely unfazed by the intense, heart-palpitating gaze from the audience. After the professor finished his introduction, Lu Chi smiled gently and said, “Hello, everyone, I’m your teaching assistant for this semester’s art elective. My name is Lu Chi.”
“……”
Still dead silent.
The enormous lecture hall was as quiet as if someone were secretly lighting incense to invite a seductive fox spirit at midnight.
A few seconds passed before the sound of swallowing and the frantic clicking of camera shutters filled the air.
However, Lu Chi acted like he didn’t hear any of it. His eyes curved slightly, the light brown irises clear and bright under the sun, like the physical embodiment of aesthetics. So much more vivid than any flat, lifeless photo.
The dazed freshmen in the back stared as the man pulled up the PowerPoint and began explaining alongside the professor. Lu Chi’s expression was focused, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled neatly to his forearms, and his long legs were dressed in perfectly tailored slacks. Tall, sharp, and absurdly attractive, with even his voice crisp and pleasant to the ear.
For some reason, the freshmen’s underdeveloped brains had been reduced to just one thought:
The new assistant teacher was ridiculously hot.
……………..
Lu Chi finished the lesson quickly. The Art Department was located at the back half of A University, built around the school’s largest man-made lake. The complex was made up of five towers with panoramic glass walls, with palm trees and fine-leaf banyans thriving in the warm air, dotted with vibrant red and purple bougainvilleas. The scenery was stunning.
And under the sunlight, Lu Chi looked even more stunning.
As soon as the professor left, the students surged forward like a swarm of bees, crowding around him politely but excitedly from a respectful distance.
“Mr. Lu, you’re so good-looking. Are you single?”
“Mr. Lu, you’re so young. Are you single?!”
“Mr. Lu, your voice is amazing. ARE YOU SINGLE?!”
However, Lu Chi was used to that kind of attention. He smiled faintly, didn’t answer, and simply said: “Class is over, please make way.”
His voice wasn’t loud, nor was his tone stern. But when those light brown eyes swept across the crowd, everyone instinctively softened at the knees, stumbling over themselves to part a clear path for him, gazing up like eager, obedient little fluffy creatures waiting for their master’s praise.
Among this sea of eager fluff, however, one pair of pitch-black eyes was missing.
At some point, Liang Jiashu had silently left.
Lu Chi lowered his gaze and smiled. “Thank you. See you next class,” he said.
“Bye, Mr. Lu!”
The children’s voices faded behind him as Lu Chi left the Art Department, strolling down the campus side path of A University. People turned to look as he passed, but he paid no mind. In his head, the system’s hesitant little voice echoed:
[Baby… Why aren’t we talking to Gong No.1 anymore?]
That day, after returning home, Lu Chi suddenly realized something. Frowning, he set Liang Jiashu’s messages to Do Not Disturb.
Over the past week, Liang Jiashu had sent him over a thousand messages and calls, but all were completely ignored. The system had been nervously monitoring the data feed, worried the main character might be driven insane and show up at Lu Chi’s door with an army to drag him away.
It wasn’t just being paranoid.
After all, the first morning after their encounter, Lu Chi left without saying goodbye, but Liang Jiashu’s messages were still relatively normal:
LJS: [How’s the injury? Does it still hurt?]
LJS: […Your lower lip is very soft.]
LJS: [Lu Chi, would you kiss other dogs too?]
By the second night, the tone had shifted, accompanied by money transfers and missed calls:
LJS: [Why aren’t you answering?]
LJS: [I’ve sent over two months’ worth of investment funds.]
LJS: [Lu Chi, pick up the phone.]
By day three, four, five, six…
When no reply came, Liang Jiashu stopped speaking altogether and began silently sending photos and videos.
Sometimes, Lu Chi would be mid-bite at lunch when, the next second, his phone would buzz with a candid shot of him holding his chopsticks.
Sometimes the message would show the thugs from when he first transmigrated, the ones who beat him up, kneeling in front of the camera, bloodied and crying as they kowtowed and begged for forgiveness.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Liang Jiashu would send over repeatedly edited versions of the contract, each time doubling all the terms, and even adding a voluntary organ donation form, signed by himself.
Under “Donation Recipient,” he had written: Lu Chi.
The last message came early that morning, and he finally sent a single line of text:
LJS: [What kind of toys do you like?]
“…”
Of course, Lu Chi didn’t reply. The sun overhead was scorching as he narrowed his eyes and casually stepped into a quiet building to escape the heat. Lowering his gaze, he muttered inwardly:
“I just suddenly realized… Liang Jiashu is really obsessive.”
But he didn’t expect it to be that extreme.
Lu Chi had assumed the whole “obedient dog contract” was just one of the protagonist’s weird whims. But once he’d cooled off that night and emotionally detached, he immediately sensed something was off. Liang Jiashu’s personality was far too twisted. They’d only known each other for a few days, and he’d already broken character badly enough to bark like a dog for him. Who knew how much worse it could get?!
That Gong No.1’s emotions were heavy.
So heavy, he couldn’t even tolerate the slightest hint of disobedience from something he considered his.
But it was a novel world, and while Lu Chi could toy with the protagonist squad, he still needed to ensure they all stayed alive.
“With the way that man is wired, if we keep interacting, eventually he’ll unilaterally treat me like his personal property. If I say even one sentence to the other leads, he might just lose it out of nowhere,” Lu Chi finally answered the system’s question.
Considering Liang Jiashu’s track record of stalking and doxxing like a lunatic beyond the law, Lu Chi had no doubt the other protagonists could very well end up in the crematorium. However, it was not the romantic kind…
Nope, it was probably literally turning to ashes.
So, rather than waste any more energy, it made more sense to cut things off with one now and preserve the others.
The system let out a small “oh.”
After a moment, it hesitantly asked:
[Then, Host Baby… why did you kiss his hand that day?]
Lu Chi raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
His phone buzzed twice, showing a message from someone he hadn’t heard from in a while: Gu Yanyan.
Before he could open it, though, a sudden, forceful grip seized his waist.
Out of the shadows, someone grabbed him without warning and yanked him backward into a deep corridor, straight into a laboratory. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang.
Darkness swallowed everything.
No lights were turned on. In the pitch-black space, a tall figure loomed like a cold, silent specter, wholly enveloping Lu Chi in an oppressive presence he couldn’t refuse.
They were too close.
Lu Chi could hear the almost inaudible breath of the person in front of him, and the faint, sharp sting of chemical reagents hanging in the air. He frowned slightly, but said nothing.
After a moment, Liang Jiashu finally couldn’t hold back. His voice cut cold and hard through the dark as he asked: “Why aren’t you answering me?”
Before Lu Chi could respond, Liang Jiashu seemed to catch the frown on his face. He suddenly took a few rough breaths, then forcibly leveled his tone and suppressed his emotions, shifting to something eerily calm.
A few seconds later, he said evenly:
“This is my laboratory. Without my permission, no one can leave. And no one dares to come in either.”
The space around them was pitch black and silent. Lu Chi let out a soft hum and reached out to push away the deranged ghost of a man in front of him, saying, “Turn on the light first.”
Liang Jiashu paused, clearly not expecting that kind of response, but Lu Chi was already frowning again. He gave a light kick to his shin and spoke concisely:
“Turn it on.”
“…”
“Liang Jiashu, you know I don’t like the dark.”
“…”
Liang Jiashu stayed silent for a moment. Then he pulled something from his pocket and pressed it with a click. A soft, warm light spread as a night lamp flickered on overhead.
Lu Chi blinked slightly against the sudden light, instinctively stepping back, his body bumping into the table behind him.
But that tiny movement seemed to set Liang Jiashu off. His expression darkened instantly, and he grabbed Lu Chi’s wrist tightly, forcefully pressing him into the narrow space between himself and the table and leaving no room to escape.
Behind him, something clattered.
Lu Chi turned his head, and his expression froze.
The cold metal worktable, which had originally held all sorts of scientific equipment, was now cleared. In its place lay a chaotic, shamefully shameless pile of…
Kink gear?!
Handcuffs, ball gags, riding crops, wax candles, bondage ropes, dog ears…
Suddenly, his chin was seized and his face forcibly turned back.
Under the yellow glow, Liang Jiashu stared into his eyes. His knee pressed forward, forcing Lu Chi’s legs apart, but his tone was still just as flat and emotionless, asking:
“Which toy do you like?”
Lu Chi looked at him for a couple of seconds, then slowly lowered his gaze and gently pressed yet another kiss to the hand gripping his face.
Instantly, the muscles beneath Liang Jiashu’s palm tensed.
Lu Chi smiled faintly, tilted his head, and asked with a lazy, amused lilt:
“For you to use… or for me?”
………………………………..
Enjoyed this chapter? You can support me and read up to Chapter 22 here, with 5 new chapters coming next month! Happy Reading!
