My Boyfriend is the Heartthrob, and I’m Just a Passerby.

Ye Jishu returned to the club room.

The movie projection screen had already been removed, revealing the blackboard behind it. On the board, the words “Film Club” were written in neat, elegant handwriting, which had likely been done earlier.

Probably by Wen Yuhe.

After all, that was the kind of impression he gave off.

Before Ye Jishu could shift his gaze away, he suddenly felt an undeniable stare directed at him. He turned to see Yan Mei standing by the door.

“…”

Seeing Yan Mei’s expression, Ye Jishu froze.

His hand, hanging at his side, unconsciously clenched.

Immediately, a wave of discomfort surged within him.

If Yan Mei were angry, that would have been the normal reaction he expected. But instead, there was no anger—just a calm gaze, as if… there was no extra reaction at all.

As the tense atmosphere lingered, someone finally noticed Ye Jishu’s presence and excitedly said, “You’re here? Perfect timing, we were just about to play a game. Why don’t you join us?”

The person turned their head toward Ye Jishu, speaking with a friendly attitude, but Ye Jishu recognized the voice. This was one of the guys who had been speaking rudely in the restroom earlier, filled with indignation… Yet now, his tone was completely different. Everyone here was so two-faced.

This was one of the reasons why Ye Jishu preferred playing games alone rather than interacting with others.

After all, people couldn’t truly empathize with one another or know what the other was thinking.

If he tried to guess, it would only lead to wasted energy on trivial matters, ultimately dragging him into a cycle of internal exhaustion.

And most people weren’t worth that effort.

Ye Jishu silently watched the person without responding.

“Let’s play something light. That last movie grossed me out,” someone beside the first person quickly chimed in, seeing that Ye Jishu hadn’t spoken yet. “I played a spin-the-bottle game a few days ago, and it was pretty fun. It’s still early, so why don’t we play that?”

Early?

Ye Jishu glanced at his phone.

It was already 9 PM.

He had roughly planned out his night.

The school activity building was some distance from the dorms. It would take about forty minutes if he walked Yan Mei back and then returned to his own dorm. After showering and getting ready for bed, it would already be past 10 PM.

He hadn’t completed the daily missions in his mobile game, which would take about an hour.

He could nap for half an hour, set an alarm for midnight, and then wake up to start playing the newly released game…

Yan Mei never let him stay out past 10 PM.

So logically, the evening should have gone according to plan.

But earlier, hadn’t they sort of argued? He wasn’t sure if Yan Mei would still insist on taking him home.

Ye Jishu hesitated.

Normally, Yan Mei would have immediately declined for him in these situations, but now, Yan Mei just furrowed his brow and didn’t say anything.

“Don’t say no~,” the first person added again, sensing Ye Jishu’s distraction. “We hardly ever get to meet Yan Mei’s boyfriend. We just want to get to know you better. Or… do you not trust your luck? After all, you’re already lucky enough to be with Yan Mei, right?”

With that last sentence, a malicious gleam flashed in the person’s eyes. There was no hiding his intent to provoke Ye Jishu.

…

But this wasn’t surprising.

Most people probably thought the same.

An unknown name, just another random student among the intake, had somehow ended up in a relationship with Yan Mei. Ye Jishu was just a quiet guy, at best known for his good grades. But in no way did he belong in the same world as Yan Mei.

Even though they were in a relationship, and Yan Mei kept him close.

It was only a matter of time before Yan Mei would grow tired of such an ordinary “toy.”

Seeing Ye Jishu finally turn his face toward him, the person felt a rush of satisfaction and excitement. The thrill of belittling someone was evident in his eyes, and he didn’t bother to hide his mocking smile. He exchanged a smug look with the person next to him before putting on a fake concerned tone.

“Or are you afraid your luck will run out if you play a game like this?”

Ye Jishu, still expressionless, continued to stare at him.

Not hearing an immediate retort, the person felt a flash of contempt and smirked, lifting his head slightly.

[So, I was right.]

[People should know their place. And if they don’t, they must be reminded of it.]

But in the next instant, unexpectedly, he met Ye Jishu’s cold, indifferent gaze.

He was immediately struck by a wave of terror, his body trembling.

The words he had been about to say caught in his throat, and an overwhelming sense of suffocating tension crept over him.

Ye Jishu calmly said, “Maybe you’re right.”

“You, you—”

At a time when the person should have felt more triumphant because of Ye Jishu’s response, his voice faltered, becoming hesitant and stammering.

Because of his odd behavior, the atmosphere in the activity room became strange.

“Shut up.”

The sudden voice cut through the room.

Everyone’s attention was instantly drawn toward the source of the voice, and they instinctively turned to see where it came from.

Yan Mei’s striking face was now contorted with a mix of disgust and mockery. The oppressive aura radiating from him sent shivers down everyone’s spines, making it hard for anyone even to breathe.

Even Ye Jishu had never seen him with such an expression before.

It was a terrifying look, the kind that warned of dire consequences for crossing a deeply set boundary.

“Luck?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jishu—”

“He’s my [everything.]”

It was a heavy, intense declaration.

Even the person involved could feel the possessive restraint hanging in the air, like an unspoken command of ownership.

…

Tuesday’s movie night ended on a highly unpleasant note.

However, no one dared to openly say that it was because of the tense atmosphere or an unspoken fear that lingered. Instead, everyone forced themselves to smile.

They said things like, “I hope we can do this again sometime,” though many of their gazes were still stuck on Yan Mei, filled with barely hidden desire, hoping sincerely that he would attend again.

Click.

The last person to leave turned off the lights.

All the students descended the stairs of the activity building, standing under the heavy night sky. A few groups gathered in the cool night air, chatting casually about recent trivial matters without saying their goodbyes just yet.

Wen Yuhe, surrounded by his noisy club members, seemed unbothered. He calmly responded to the topics being thrown his way, talking about “new sneakers” and “plans for traveling abroad during the summer.”

He must come from a wealthy family.

His face had an effortless composure, as if he was used to such luxuries, unbothered by any of them.

Even so, most people were clearly distracted, stealing glances at Yan Mei from time to time.

They probably wanted to talk to him.

All except for Wen Yuhe.

He lowered his head, attentively listening to a girl’s question, not paying any attention to the others.

But suddenly, Ye Jishu’s view was blocked.

Yan Mei’s figure had stepped fully into his line of sight.

Ye Jishu couldn’t see what the others were saying in the distance anymore, so he looked up at the person in front of him.

That person was also looking down at him, his reflection mirrored in Yan Mei’s pupils.

… He had thought they’d be giving each other the cold shoulder.

But it was as if nothing had happened—there was no sign of him having been pushed away earlier—and Yan Mei leaned toward him like usual.

“We should go back.”

Yan Mei lowered his head, extending a hand to zip up Ye Jishu’s open jacket with a natural familiarity. He then tucked Ye Jishu’s hair behind his ear again, fingers lingering at his earlobe, pressing with a firm touch that left a mark on his pale skin.

“Does it hurt?”

Ye Jishu: “…”

As expected, he’s still upset, right?

Before Ye Jishu could respond and voice how he felt, Yan Mei had already leaned down, cupping his cheek with one hand, and softly apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Even though Yan Mei was now taller than him, he still managed to look up with those eyes, making him seem innocent, as if making him feel bad was a terrible crime.

Just looking at that face made it nearly impossible to refuse.

Ye Jishu: “…It’s fine.”

“Good.”

Yan Mei softly acknowledged, inching closer until his other hand held the back of Ye Jishu’s head firmly, preventing him from pulling away. Yet his voice remained gentle, almost regretful. “Then, next time, can I still kiss you? I won’t kiss your collarbone… just your eyes—”

His breath brushed across Ye Jishu’s face, creating the urge to close his eyes.

Ye Jishu closed his eyes.

The sentence was clearly not finished.

But then…

A sudden warmth touched his eyelids.

Yan Mei leaned in and kissed him.

It was only a fleeting touch, then Yan Mei pulled away, not lingering.

Ye Jishu opened his eyes in surprise.

“Your eyelashes…”

Ye Jishu couldn’t blink because his lashes were gently held between soft lips.

“The tip of your nose.”

Lips brushed the tip of his nose, leaving another light kiss.

“Behind your ear, things like that…”

Then, Yan Mei gently squeezed Ye Jishu’s chin, tilting his head to one side. Ye Jishu’s head fell forward, nestling into the crook of his shoulder, and Yan Mei’s warm breath brushed against his collarbone through the fabric.

“Jishu, you’re so cute and also so frustrating,” Yan Mei’s voice came out muffled. “Even like this, you still don’t show any expression…”

Ye Jishu felt his cheeks burning.

The spots where he had been kissed were itchy, and his heart raced faster at the simple words. He had thought Yan Mei would stop as usual after the brief touch.

But unexpectedly, Yan Mei remained still, his head resting on Ye Jishu’s shoulder, his arms wrapped gently around his waist. Ye Jishu could feel the weight of Yan Mei resting on him, and his hair lightly tickled Ye Jishu’s cheek.

“Aren’t you going to touch me?” Yan Mei’s voice carried a hint of dissatisfaction.

Ye Jishu hesitated for a moment.

He reached out and stroked Yan Mei’s hair.

His heart pounded even faster, betraying the calm expression he maintained.

As expected of the heartthrob protagonist.

Even knowing the plot, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“…I like you.”

Yan Mei murmured softly, “I really like you.”

The following words were muffled and drowned out by the humid summer breeze, but the dark emotions behind them were clear.

Suddenly, Ye Jishu felt a heavy, almost tangible gaze on them.

Not far away.

Among the talking crowd, Wen Yuhe was staring at him.

He had apparently stopped interacting with others and was quietly observing their direction.

At that moment.

Ye Jishu made eye contact with him.

Upon meeting Ye Jishu’s gaze, Wen Yuhe immediately looked away and spoke a few more words to the others beside him with an absent-minded expression, but soon looked back at Ye Jishu and Yan Mei with a hesitant look.

Seemingly having made up his mind, he stopped his conversation, shook his head, and quickly walked toward them, under the curious gazes of the others.

Ye Jishu remembered that Wen Yuhe had been seen in a heartbreaking scene not long ago.

So now, he might still be feeling some lingering resentment.

The crowd was not far off.

Soon, Wen Yuhe stopped right in front of them.

“Sorry.”

He hesitated before saying, “I have something to say to you.”

“…”

Ye Jishu instinctively looked at Yan Mei.

Should this be addressed face-to-face?

But Yan Mei showed no reaction.

Nevertheless, Wen Yuhe maintained his polite smile, as if his resolve was unaffected.

However, Ye Jishu felt a sense of dissonance.

Because Wen Yuhe’s eyes were not on Yan Mei, but on—

The next moment, Wen Yuhe looked directly at Ye Jishu and asked, “Could you give me your contact information?”