Seducing Him - Chapter 3

[…The reporter will now lead us into an interview with this year’s city-wide top scorer in the college entrance exam, Lu Jin…]

Hearing the name, she focused slightly.

The scene switched to a golden and luxurious hall. On screen, a black-haired, fair-skinned, strikingly handsome boy sat calmly under the camera, answering questions. When the reporter asked him how it felt to return from overseas only a few months ago, face the college entrance exam, and still secure first place, he paused.

Then, for the first time in the interview, he smiled. “That day…”

Because his skin was so fair and his features so beautiful, most people ignored the strange ambiguity of that unfinished sentence. The livestream’s comments were filled only with excited screaming.

His magnetic voice seeped through the screen into Ci Yiyang’s ears. Before she could look closer, the screen went black.

Her neck stiffened as she turned.

Lu Jin had already taken off his headphones. His hair curled slightly at the ends. Behind him was a tall window with a blue sky; soft light blurred his outline. His smile mirrored the one from the broadcast as he gently finished what he hadn’t said earlier:

“That day, my sister came all that way just to see me, and she gave me a rose.”

With a face so cold and untouchable, to say something like that again—her heart faltered. She watched him suddenly stand, and instinctively stepped back.

He was still holding a grudge. He had mentioned in front of the whole nation how she had slapped him that day. Now, he was reminding her of it again.

A thought flashed through her mind, and she blurted out, “I was too impulsive that time. Next time, I won’t hit you.”

Next time…

His dark eyes shifted, landing on her face. With a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, he asked, “So there will be a next time?”

Realizing what she said, Ci Yiyang quickly waved her hand. “No, I mean, there won’t be a next time. I apologize for what I did.”

Her apology was perfunctory, without sincerity—just words passing her lips.

But it had been the first time in his entire life that someone had hit him.

Lu Jin curved his lips slightly, his voice soft: “So now we should get along, right? You’ll accept this blended family, another mother, another younger brother. Isn’t that so?”

Every word he spoke made her feel sick.

Still, she forced the disgust down and nodded seriously. “Mm. From now on, I’ll treat you as my real younger brother.”

“Real… younger brother.” His brows lifted slightly, a shimmer of dangerous allure glinting at the corners of his eyes. “Good. Just so happens, I also want a real elder sister.”

Of course.

A single-parent family, starved of love. Otherwise, why covet someone else’s home?

Ci Yiyang sneered inwardly. From the moment Lu Lan announced she would move into the house—her mother’s house—after marriage, she knew the mother and son were desperate for love.

Especially Lu Jin. The way he had called her “sister” even after being slapped—it had already been clear to her.

Ci Yiyang changed the subject, donning the concern of an elder sister. “Which university did you choose? Picking the right major is important.”

Top scorers always had their pick. Normally, those predicted to become champions were already fought over by the country’s top universities. But this time, the title had been snatched by someone who had only recently transferred back.

Surely he had received plenty of offers.

“Beijing University.”

“Beijing University?”

Ci Yiyang also studied at Beijing University. She was startled for a moment, but quickly reasoned: with its reputation both domestically and internationally, it wasn’t strange that he chose it.

“I’m at Beijing University too,” she said.

Lu Jin only hummed in response, then lowered his head and slipped his headphones back on.

What the hell.

Seeing him retreat back into coldness, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes behind his back.

She tried to chat with him a little longer, but he only answered selectively. Sometimes she asked three or four questions before he bothered to respond once. His eccentric personality made her itch to slap him again.

Out of patience, she excused herself and went upstairs.

Back in her room, Ci Yiyang shut the door, kicked off her slippers, and flopped onto the soft bed. Picking up her phone, she saw the screen still on.

There was a new message request—from a fresh account with no profile picture.

Her lips pressed together in faint annoyance.

So earlier when he said “wait a moment,” then disappeared into his room… he had been registering a new account just to add her?

She wanted to delete him, but her finger hovered and tapped the screen several times without following through. In the end, she only deleted the request notification.

Switching apps, she reopened the shopping page she had shown him earlier.

A pink lingerie set, displayed on a mannequin—pure, alluring, teasing curiosity.

Her cheek pressed deep into the pillow, pale skin flushed faint pink, her breathing growing heavier.

She nearly suffocated herself before turning to the side, dazedly recalling all his expressions just now.

The whole time, he hadn’t blinked, as if truly entering numbers on a screen.

Had he seen the shopping page?

Maybe the pictures were too small and he hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had—and just chose not to say.

Shaking the thought away, she bundled all the dresses in her cart together and placed the order.

Over five thousand. She tapped in her payment code.

With the cart emptied, she got up, sat by the window, chin in hand, gazing at the distant clouds. Inevitably, she thought of her mother.

Her father was seldom home. In her life, it had only ever been her mother crying over a pile of old belongings.

That was when she realized: her mother loved her father too much. Even knowing he loved someone else, she had stubbornly clung to her role as wife.

But her mother never imagined—barely gone, and her father was already rushing to marry another woman.

So her mother’s things—no one else could touch. Not even her father.

The late-summer night was stifling. Even with the air conditioner at its lowest, it was hard to sleep. Especially with the thought of the girl in a white dress lying on his bed last night—Lu Jin couldn’t find any peace.

His thick lashes lowered, shading the light in his dark eyes. Coming downstairs, he walked toward the island counter.

Opening the freezer, he dropped ice cubes into a glass and poured himself a drink, downing it in one go.

The alcohol burned through his stomach, tinting his cold black pupils with a watery pink sheen. Leaning against the counter, he was about to pour another when, in the corner of his eye, he noticed the sofa.

There she was.

In a loose nightgown, long hair tousled, hands braced against the cushions. A thin blanket covered her body so lightly she was nearly invisible—except for the way her eyes fixed straight on him.

“Still awake, sister?”

He stood there watching her, the glass glinting in his long white fingers. Under the light, his pale skin was almost unnaturally beautiful, even sickly.

Ci Yiyang blinked back to her senses, stood up, and walked toward him in her slippers. “Why are you drinking this late? It’s bad for your stomach.”

Lu Lan wanted her and her son to bond like siblings, so naturally she acted the part. It almost felt real—like they had grown up together.

Lu Jin looked at her flushed face and, while pouring another glass, asked evenly, “Want some? Helps with the heat.”

Ci Yiyang couldn’t handle alcohol, and she wasn’t even feeling hot. The temperature was fine.

Still, seeing him hand the glass over, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Wait a moment.” He set his own glass down and turned to fetch another.

But when he looked back, she had already picked up the glass he left on the counter. She sniffed it, curious.

Sweet-scented. Not quite strong liquor.

Tentatively, she licked the rim, frowning, then forced herself to take small sips.

Lu Jin froze, the extra glass forgotten in his hand. He watched her lips touch where his had, then slowly tilt the drink, head raised, throat exposed. A bead of alcohol slipped along her collarbone, her skin flushing faintly pink.

When she lowered her gaze, her apricot eyes were hazy. “Not very good.”

He laughed. His shoulders shook, the veins on his neck standing out as he braced himself against the counter.

She had no idea what he was laughing at. Glancing sideways, she caught her reflection faintly in a glossy painting nearby—her face was crimson.

“So sister can’t handle alcohol.” His soft smile sharpened his features, the bridge of his nose high, his Adam’s apple sliding as he swallowed.

For some reason, she thought of something she’d once read: men with his traits—were said to have a strong appetite, easy to addict.

But up close, his coldness made him seem untouchable, too lofty for base desires.

“You…” she murmured, dizzy, shaking her head to fight the blur.

“Hm?” He raised his chin, dark lashes fanning low as he waited for her words.

The alcohol burned through her, leaving her pale arm gleaming in the light. She braced herself against the wall, swaying.

She thought he would reach out to steady her. But he only crossed his arms, leaning lazily, watching.

So she stumbled forward—and fell against him.

The pearl hairpin in her hair jabbed sharply into his chest.

His body stiffened instantly, bending slightly. Red tinted his eyes as his breath hitched, barely held under control.

His breathing grew shallow. Ci Yiyang tilted her head up, trying to hear—but instead, her lips brushed the firm line of his throat, grazing over his Adam’s apple.

“Uh…hah…”

A faint, hoarse sound escaped him, like a whispered sigh. It pierced her ears, her chest, spreading heat through her skin.

Ci Yiyang froze. Before she could react, he shoved her away.

She landed hard. Pain shot up her spine, her eyes filling with tears instantly. The mist clung to her lashes, threatening to fall.

Overhead, the light was too bright, pouring over his deep features. Lowering his gaze, he looked down at her, his cold expression tinged with a dangerous allure, like a butterfly made of ice.

Her nightgown was disheveled from the fall and her struggling. Kneeling on the floor, skirt rucked up, long white legs exposed, she didn’t even realize how much of herself she was showing.

Head tilted back, her face looked sinfully beautiful.

Leaning on the counter, his breath uneven, Lu Jin swallowed hard, his throat itching unbearably.

Wetness lingered—not just in her eyes.