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No one could reconcile the explosive girl before him with the gentle, placid demeanor she had exhibited just moments ago.
Yet, Pei Xingyan remained utterly unperturbed, confident that his initial intuition had been correct.
From the very first moment he laid eyes on her, he had sensed an undeniable volatility simmering beneath her surface.
This was an instinct he had honed after dealing with someone as uniquely formidable as Ye Ziwei, and when it came to reading people, he had never once been mistaken.
Nevertheless, business was business, and despite his accurate assessment, he had no intention of relinquishing such a substantial sum.
For the first time, he sent a voice message through the app, offering a soft apology, betraying no hint of irritation from Su Sanshan’s outburst.
He then temporarily muted her messages, choosing not to glance at them again.
It was hardly the opportune moment to invite further trouble.
Fortuitously, matters on another front had progressed; Lin Xiaoyu, after two arduous days of self-study, finally sent him the next installment of her musical guidance.
She sounded brimming with confidence, and even through the phone, he could envision her animated, triumphant expression.
Yet, some of her pronouncements were demonstrably incorrect; Pei Xingyan could discern that this was the classic misinformation a novice might gather from a simple search engine query.
After all, each profession was a world unto itself, and instruments inherently possessed distinct nuances. Moreover, Lin Xiaoyu harbored no genuine affection for music; she was merely swept up by the intoxicating desire for praise.
Such errors were thus inevitable, and Pei Xingyan had always known this day would come.
Indeed, this was precisely the moment he had been anticipating.
He swiftly composed a few messages in response:
[“Thank you so much! I happen to have an event these next two days, and I was feeling quite unconfident, but this technique you taught me is absolutely a lifesaver!”]
[“You’re truly incredible to know so much.”]
[“If only I had half your talent! (✧◡✧)”]
Lin Xiaoyu’s voice message returned almost instantly, as if she had been cradling her phone, eagerly awaiting his reply:
“Hehe, it’s no big deal! I’m just happy I could help you. Even though you’re the one asking for advice, I feel inexplicably better, so don’t be shy at all~”
The sheer innocence of the girl always seemed to lift spirits, and Pei Xingyan found himself somewhat enjoying the exchange. He piled on a few more effusive compliments before reluctantly signing off.
However, as he closed his phone, a wave of compunction washed over him at the thought of the unscrupulous deed he was about to commit.
Yet, to gain Lin Xiaoyu’s complete trust and uncover the root of her ailment, he knew he had no other recourse.
It was, undeniably, the most effective path to earn her confidence.
Whether it was Lin Xiaoyu, Su Sanshan, or even Tang Xin—all girls who had yet to weather life’s storms and who seemed to treat business matters with casual indifference—they all regarded sums reaching hundreds of thousands as mere child’s play. Perhaps it stemmed from their inexperience, or perhaps they simply cared little for such trifling amounts.
Pei Xingyan, however, held a starkly different view. Having fallen from grace, he had learned his lessons the hard way: any endeavor, once begun, must be seen through to its absolute, complete resolution.
His mission, cloaked under the guise of ‘spiritual solace,’ was to secure a substantial sum, and to that end, he was determined to ensure they willingly settled the final payment.
Therefore, he had to dismantle their psychological barriers, regardless of the methods required.
****
Nevertheless, a student’s paramount duty remained attending classes. While he could occasionally skip an unimportant, easy lecture or two, frequent truancy was out of the question, and missing compulsory courses was unthinkable; failing a subject was an outcome he simply could not tolerate.
He spent the entire afternoon engrossed in his studies.
Even as classes concluded, Su Sanshan’s barrage of messages showed no sign of abating; she continued to flood his inbox, as if utterly incapable of reining herself in.
Pei Xingyan offered another gentle apology, even going so far as to remind her to take care of her health, noting that prolonged anger could easily damage the liver.
A mischievous smile played on his lips as he mused, ‘I suppose this makes me quite the caring gentleman.’
However, his gaze remained fixed downwards as he walked, and in his inattention, he abruptly collided with a soft, yielding embrace.
It was undeniably a woman’s embrace; he didn’t need to question how he knew, for the distinct scent and soft touch were overwhelmingly apparent.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, my apologies!” His heart leaped into his throat as he hastily stepped back, profusely apologizing.
From the other side, however, came only a light, melodious laugh, tinkling like silver bells, stirring a peculiar itch in his heart.
Pei Xingyan finally lifted his gaze, only to discover it was Shen Zhishu.
“Professor Shen?” He stared, dumbfounded. Why did he keep running into the esteemed Professor Shen these past couple of days?
Still, he didn’t neglect to apologize once more. “My apologies, Professor Shen. I was just engrossed in my phone and wasn’t paying attention at all. I’m truly sorry.”
Shen Zhishu merely chuckled softly, offering neither a word of blame nor a gesture of forgiveness. Instead, her curiosity was piqued, and she tilted her head, eager to glimpse his phone.
“What were you looking at, so engrossed you forgot how to walk?”
Pei Xingyan quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket, offering a sheepish smile and repeating his apologies several more times.
Shen Zhishu finally began to look displeased. Her expression growing stern, she admonished him, “Listen, class is over now. Can you please stop with the ‘Professor this’ and ‘Professor that’? I really don’t like being addressed that way.”
“Then… Professor Shen?”
“I haven’t taught your classes, and you’re not my graduate student, so that wouldn’t be appropriate either.”
She remained directly in Pei Xingyan’s path, clearly having no intention of letting him depart.
“Then what exactly should I call you?” Pei Xingyan sighed, feeling as though this esteemed figure was deliberately making things difficult for him, much like a bully might torment a ‘Fatty Hu’ (TL Note: A common Chinese internet meme referring to someone being unreasonably picked on).
“Hmm…” Shen Zhishu pressed a finger to her lips, adopting a thoughtful pose. She mused for a moment, leaving him uncertain whether she was genuinely contemplating or merely feigning it.
Suddenly recalling the perplexing question that had troubled him, Pei Xingyan pleaded, “Professor Shen, could we perhaps set aside the matter of addressing you for a moment? I actually have a pressing question I desperately need your expertise on…”
“Oh?” Shen Zhishu’s interest was piqued. “Do tell.”
For some inexplicable reason, Pei Xingyan couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman, who was not significantly older than himself, kept casting furtive glances at his face.
Yet, when he focused his gaze, it seemed to be nothing more than a trick of his mind, so he redirected his full attention to the matter at hand.
“If there’s a girl who, at times, is incredibly sweet to you—deadly gentle, constantly proclaiming you the most perfect man in the world—but then, at other times, suddenly explodes into a fit of hysteria, could that be indicative of some psychological condition?”
“I am a biologist, not a psychologist,” Shen Zhishu stated, a hint of speechlessness in her tone, and perhaps a touch of disappointment too, as if Pei Xingyan’s question had left her slightly crestfallen. “Don’t you think you’ve come to the wrong person?”
“Please, please, I’m truly at my wit’s end!” Pei Xingyan began to sweet-talk her, his voice laced with urgency. “I can’t find these symptoms anywhere online, and it’s an incredibly urgent matter, so I could only think to ask you! You’re so accomplished and young, and your network must be absolutely formidable. Would you be so kind as to help me inquire about it? Besides, consider the Nobel Prize—it’s awarded for physiology or medicine, isn’t it? Aren’t they essentially the same field? Please, I beg you~”
His relentless persistence gradually yielded results; Shen Zhishu tilted her head back and nodded, signifying her reluctant willingness to assist him.
“Thank you, thank you! Professor, you’re as beautiful as you are kind-hearted.” Pei Xingyan couldn’t resist adding a couple more flattering remarks.
Surprisingly, Shen Zhishu visibly preened at the compliment, puffing out her chest and shaking her head with a self-satisfied air.
But then, as if a sudden thought had struck her, she paused, before slowly opening her eyes again.
“Why would you encounter someone with such problems?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her expression turning rather stern. “The person you’re describing wouldn’t happen to be your girlfriend, would she?”
Pei Xingyan felt an inexplicable chill snake down his collar, racing across his back and raising a fresh crop of goosebumps all over his skin.
It was a sensation he had grown intimately familiar with, particularly when dealing with Ye Ziwei.
He could only shake his head with utmost conviction.