Seducing Him - Chapter 9
Ci Yiyang didn’t go to see him off. After all, Jing University was in Jing City, and someone like him wouldn’t possibly live in the dorms.
She sat on the hanging chair in the little rooftop garden, watching the black car drive out of the estate.
Lu Jin was a freshman, and since university opened earlier for them, he went to school ahead of time. After that, Ci Yiyang rarely saw him. Still, she messaged him every day—morning and night—always full of concern.
They were like spam messages, yet he didn’t seem annoyed; he usually replied.
Once, Ci Yiyang had followed the university’s official account and, by chance, saw that the profile banner had been updated—with his photo.
The reason she hadn’t seen him much lately was that, unlike the other freshmen, he didn’t join military training. Instead, he was away competing.
September skies were still scorching, cicadas crying endlessly but full of life.
With the arrival of new students, Jing University’s campus bustled with energy. Clubs hung banners recruiting members, and enthusiastic classmates handed out flyers.
Dragging her suitcase, Ci Yiyang walked along Yulin Avenue. From a distance, she could hear the sharp whistles and chants of military training. Youthful faces passed by, brimming with vitality.
She lived in Building 20. By the time she arrived, her fair cheeks were flushed from the heat. Even though she wasn’t the type to sweat easily, beads of moisture glistened on her forehead.
Breathing felt scorching in the blazing sun. Thankfully, once she entered the dormitory, cool air from the pre-set air conditioner washed over her, bringing relief.
Ming Ying, who had arrived earliest, stepped out of the bathroom in a camisole dress. Seeing her flushed and overheated, she pushed the small desk fan toward her.
“Thanks.”
Ci Yiyang took it and glanced sideways. “Xiaoying, why did you come so early?”
Drying her hair, Ming Ying sighed. “I didn’t want to. But during summer break I got assigned extra tasks. I still haven’t finished them, so when I told the professor, she made me come earlier. I’ve been here for days already.”
“No wonder.” Ci Yiyang, now cooled down, began arranging her toiletries.
When she hung some clothes in the closet, Ming Ying’s sharp eyes spotted the skirts. Dropping her hairdryer, she curiously asked, “Yangyang, when did you change your taste?”
The skirts she’d brought were bright and bold, completely different from her usual long-sleeved, ankle-length dresses that concealed almost all skin.
She and Chen Yao’an used to tease her, calling her a Roman saint.
“Nothing much, just trying out a different style.” Ci Yiyang smiled faintly, her lashes lowering as she continued tidying.
Ming Ying wasn’t convinced, shaking her head slowly. “When someone changes, it’s either because they’ve figured things out—or because they’re in love.”
“Yangyang, don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love?” She looked at her in surprise.
Just then, Chen Yao’an entered, dragging her suitcase, catching only the tail end of the sentence.
“Who’s in love?”
Ming Ying spread her hands. “Not me. The guy I like hasn’t even caught me yet.”
Chen Yao’an was misled, turning to Ci Yiyang in confusion. “When did Jing Zuoyuan win you over? Why didn’t I know?”
Ci Yiyang shook her head helplessly. “No. Xiaoying’s just imagining things.”
Chen Yao’an patted her chest in relief. “I knew it. You scared me. I was even thinking of introducing my brother to you someday.”
“Your brother?”
Ming Ying’s eyes lit up, interested. “You mean the one who worked in M-country on Wall Street? The one I saw once—tall legs worth more than life, handsome, rich, charming?”
Closing the door, Chen Yao’an pushed up her glasses. “Mm.”
Ming Ying brightened, then immediately wilted. “Why didn’t you introduce him to me?”
Chen Yao’an shot her a calm look. “Weren’t you chasing the finance department’s campus prince?”
At that, Ming Ying grimaced. “Don’t remind me. Things have changed. Not just the finance prince—Jing University’s campus heartthrob title was stolen by that freshman.”
Resting her chin on her palms, she sighed. “I haven’t even seen him yet, but those candid shots of him at competitions—he’s really handsome. Sharp, tall with a narrow waist, clean aura, like someone so pure that touching him would sully him.”
Chen Yao’an wasn’t very interested. “What freshman?”
Ming Ying pulled up photos and handed them over. “Look, this one.”
Chen Yao’an leaned closer. Ci Yiyang, recalling her earlier description, glanced too.
The photo, secretly taken, showed a cold, aloof boy standing among a crowd, half-turned toward a trophy. A spotlight fell on him like a stage light. Behind him, vintage tower-like windows glowed faintly.
Beautiful—so beautiful it felt unreal.
Chen Yao’an gasped. “That’s a divine face.”
“Right? And look—” Ming Ying swiped through several shots. Different angles that would ruin most people only made him look like porcelain in a glass case.
Ci Yiyang wasn’t surprised it was Lu Jin. He had always been striking; she’d been stunned at first sight, too.
Ming Ying kept scrolling, not noticing her expression.
Meanwhile, Chen Yao’an kept packing, asking absently, “So you want to chase him now?”
Ming Ying wilted. “I wish. But I know my limits. People like him are untouchable.”
Chen Yao’an shrugged. “Then I’ll introduce you to my brother.”
Ming Ying waved her off. “Forget it. I’ll stick with the finance guy. Your brother seems… hard to break up with.”
Her style was typical: talk big, but when it came to actual relationships, she’d always find excuses. She just enjoyed the chase.
Chen Yao’an was used to it.
Ming Ying thought to ask Ci Yiyang, but seeing her quietly absorbed in her phone, cool and distant, she decided not to.
After unpacking, the three planned to eat out. Campus dining halls were packed at mealtimes, so they chose a Sichuan restaurant off-campus.
Passing Mingde Hall, they spotted a boy under the camphor trees, sitting on a bench in casual shirt and pants.
The sunset filtered through the leaves onto him, his features gentle like a glass of warm water. Both his looks and demeanor drew glances from passersby. He, seemingly accustomed, kept his eyes on his phone.
“Hey, isn’t that Jing Zuoyuan? Who’s he waiting for?” Ming Ying turned to Ci Yiyang.
She looked up, eyes finding him instantly.
She had always admired this kind of refined, proper boy—especially handsome ones. Even after knowing him for years, she couldn’t help sneaking glances whenever she saw him.
She looked away, shaking her head. “Don’t know.”
But perhaps hearing her voice, he lifted his gaze, eyes locking on her white dress through the crowd.
Meeting her eyes, he smiled slightly and stood, walking toward them.
Ming Ying nudged. “He’s coming over.”
Chen Yao’an nodded calmly. “Mm, he is.”
Both turned to look at Ci Yiyang knowingly.
She hesitated, then nodded. “He’s coming.”
Reaching them, Jing Zuoyuan nodded politely to Ming Ying and Chen Yao’an before focusing on Ci Yiyang. “What a coincidence. Going out?”
“As if by chance,” she replied.
Ming Ying smirked. “Coincidence indeed, Jing University’s young master. You’re not also going out for dinner, are you?”
Everyone at Jing University knew his distinguished family background—an aristocratic lineage that often made headlines, far beyond ordinary wealth.
So her teasing drew no surprise.
Jing Zuoyuan simply smiled. “Yes. Shall we go together?”
“I’d love to. Eating with handsome people is a blessing. Right, An’an?” Ming Ying winked.
Chen Yao’an shrugged. “Fine with me.”
He turned to Ci Yiyang, voice so gentle it was hard to refuse. “Is that okay?”
Since everyone agreed, she didn’t object. Their group of three became four.
There were many eateries near campus. But when he said he’d reserved a French restaurant, they abandoned the Sichuan plan.
The restaurant was famous in Jing City, notoriously expensive. A doorman led them to the elevator.
Ming Ying whispered to Ci Yiyang, “I heard this place is crazy expensive. If it’s too much, let’s leave.”
She nodded slightly.
From the glass elevator, the lavish décor below came into view. Their private room was even more extravagant.
Jing Zuoyuan thoughtfully pulled out chairs for them, handing over menus. “Order whatever you like.”
Ci Yiyang flipped it open—and almost choked. Even the cheapest dish cost four figures.
Across from her, Ming Ying and Chen Yao’an exchanged panicked looks.
Too expensive. Outrageously so. One meal could bankrupt them.
She quietly closed the golden-trimmed menu.
The other two sat straighter, mimicking her.
He noticed. “Not to your taste? I know another place, better than this one. Shall we go there instead?”
Better meant pricier. They couldn’t possibly afford that either.
Ming Ying tugged Ci Yiyang’s sleeve under the table.
Ci Yiyang glanced at the waiter patiently waiting, then leaned toward Jing Zuoyuan, whispering softly.
Startled by her sudden nearness, he leaned closer. Their shoulders brushed, and he caught the faint fragrance from her hair as her breath brushed his ear.
His gaze dropped to her pale lips moving like a flower blooming, sweet and pure.
Momentarily distracted, he missed her words.
“Jing Zuoyuan?” she prompted.
He blinked. “Hm?”
She repeated herself. “We… might not be able to afford this meal.”
No one could drop six figures on dinner casually.
This time he understood, chuckling. “Don’t worry. It’s on me. This place belongs to my uncle, anyway. Just order what you want.”
Relief swept over them.
Ming Ying slumped back. “Scared me half to death. I thought I’d go broke on day one. You don’t know how poor I am compared to you rich people.”
He smiled, placing a dessert in front of Ci Yiyang. “Try this. You’ll like it.”
“Thanks.” She tasted it—it was indeed delicious.
The dinner was elegant. A violinist played softly; waiters carved meat and poured wine gracefully.
Ming Ying, tipsy on the absurdly pricey wine, asked, “Didn’t you say you were going abroad for further study? Why are you still here this semester?”
He was studying law, from a background that opened every door. Even before graduation, he’d already reached heights others couldn’t dream of.
Unbuttoning his cuff, revealing a lean wrist, he explained, “I’ve postponed it. My grandfather’s health isn’t good. I’ll stay in China for now to be with him.”
Ming Ying’s knowing look said she believed it was really because of Ci Yiyang.
Halfway through dinner, her lab senior called, pulling her away. Soon after, Chen Yao’an spotted her brother’s social post nearby, not wanting to bump into him, so she left too.
They had tactfully left space for two.
Jing Zuoyuan watched Chen Yao’an leave, then turned back gently. “By the way, how are you settling in?”
He knew her mother had just passed, and that her father intended to remarry. Back then he’d been abroad, unable to be there for her.
Lowering her lashes, hair swept back to reveal her pale neck, Ci Yiyang seemed calm.
“I’m fine.”
Sipping her drink carelessly, her dark eyes unfocused. “It’s normal for a widower to remarry. I can’t stop him.”
He thought she had recovered, reassured by her composure.
“That’s good. If you ever need anything, you can talk to me. After all…” He paused. “…I am your friend.”
To him, she was always more than a friend. But she only saw years of familiarity.
Still, he could wait.
She smiled faintly, cheeks tinted pink. “Thank you.”
“We’ve known each other for years. If you keep being polite, I’ll be hurt.” His gentle expression even managed to look mock-hurt, softening his distant aura.
She laughed and relented. “Alright.”
Seeing her smile, he set down his fork contentedly.
But she wasn’t used to such fine dining. Not wanting the wine wasted, she drank more than usual—forgetting she couldn’t handle alcohol.
Before long, she was drunk.
“Yangyang, give me your address. I’ll take you home.” He lifted her face gently.
She shook her head, handing over her phone. “Call… call.”
He supported her, taking the phone. The call screen popped up on its own.
There was a saved contact name. Surprised, he answered.
Before the phone reached his ear, a male voice came through: “Jiejie.”
Deep, lazy, with a husky intimacy.
Jing Zuoyuan was taken aback. Her younger brother?
“Yes, I’m her friend. She’s drunk. Tell me your address, I’ll bring her back.”
Silence lingered on the other end, eerie.
Just as he was about to repeat himself, the voice said, “Wait,” then hung up.
He frowned at the disconnected call, puzzled. They hadn’t even exchanged location.
Turning to the drowsy girl beside him, he figured she must have already told her brother, so he didn’t worry.
Moments later, the door burst open.
A tall boy walked in casually dressed, upright and sharp. The restaurant lights fell on his sculpted features; his dark eyes gleamed like jade submerged in water.
Devastatingly handsome.
His first glance landed on Ci Yiyang. Then he looked down at Jing Zuoyuan, his gaze cool and condescending.
“Hello, I’m Yiyang’s friend,” Jing Zuoyuan offered politely.
Lu Jin said nothing. He walked straight over, taking the sleeping girl from him with a cold indifference that felt like being dismissed.
Rarely ignored, Jing Zuoyuan was unsettled but held back. “Shall I drive you two home?”
Lu Jin spared him a lazy glance. “No need.”
Then, under his gaze, he lifted Ci Yiyang into his arms and carried her out.
A car was already waiting. People outside snapped photos of the luxury vehicle, quickly parting as the owner arrived.
In the passenger seat, Ci Yiyang faintly sensed something at her lips. Half-conscious, she resisted with her tongue—until a hand covered her mouth.
“Jiejie, don’t spit it out. Swallow it obediently.”
His voice was clear as water dripping into a lake, murmuring right against her ear.
“It’s candy.”
And it was—a mint sweet, melting on her tongue.
Lu Jin’s gaze lingered on her flushed face, then on her lips barely parted around his fingers. After a pause, he slowly withdrew his hand and drove toward Beichen District.
The car sped silently, no music, no words—just like him.
Once, she opened her eyes. Streetlights painted shadows across his pale jawline, his sharp profile cold and exquisite. One hand gripped the wheel, long fingers gleaming white.
He didn’t look at her. It was as though he hadn’t noticed she was awake.
She watched for a moment, then closed her eyes again.
The sports car flew down the road, finally stopping steadily in the garage.
Without waking her, he leaned over to unbuckle her seatbelt.
As the strap slid back with a soft hiss, something brushed his ear.
He turned slightly—and her lips skimmed his ear, falling onto his mouth.
An unintentional kiss, like rainwater dripping from a roof onto stone, spreading a soft, unseen bloom of dampness.