Chapter 15 Call Me One More Time

Lu Xun's eyelid twitched as he observed Lu Heyang closely in the dim light from the window. His eyes remained shut, leaving Lu Xun unsure if he was talking in his sleep or just mumbling drunkenly.

"Baby," Lu Heyang said again, his words slurred together with a sticky sweetness. His furrowed brows carried a charm that was somewhere between sultry and innocent. This time, he draped his arm over Lu Xun's shoulder, wrapping it around his neck, pressing his feverish forehead against Lu Xun's collarbone.

"Baby, my head hurts."

The last time he made him call him "baby," it was forced, prying his mouth open, taking it with brute strength over and over again. But pearls acquired that way are often damaged.

This time, however, he said it of his own accord.

Whether it was due to the alcohol or not, Lu Xun didn't care.

"Lu Heyang, look at me." Lu Xun squatted down, cupping Lu Heyang's burning red face.

Lu Heyang opened his eyes, revealing a dark glimmer in them. He blinked slowly.

"Call me one more time." Lu Xun's voice trembled, barely able to conceal the anticipation in his heart. In the short moment he waited for Lu Heyang to speak, Lu Xun felt as if waves were crashing over him again and again, lifting him up and then letting him fall, only to lift him up again.

"My head hurts," Lu Heyang muttered, closing his eyes again.

The fall, an endless descent. Lu Xun deflated, letting out a bitter laugh. He had been too presumptuous.

Just as he was about to push himself up from his knees, Lu Heyang grabbed his collar, leaned in, and found his lips with unerring precision.

The sharp taste of lingering alcohol surged into Lu Xun's mouth, colliding with the taste of tobacco, stimulating both his taste buds and his nerves.

That night when Lu Heyang had come to him, it was the same. It seemed that for this person, sex and love could be separated. When he drank too much, he would sleep with him.

But once he sobered up, he would become Lu Xun's opponent again, pushing him away, evading him, calling him immature, calling him a lunatic.

Lu Xun's gaze darkened as he scooped Lu Heyang up by the knees, carrying him and tossing him onto the bed.

He kissed away the tears spilling from the corners of Lu Heyang's eyes, tears that flowed with each thrust. He could hear Lu Heyang gasping as he mumbled his name—first "Lu Xun," then just "Xun," and finally, it reduced to nothing but soft breaths.

Gripping his waist, Lu Xun trapped him beneath him.

If he couldn't have his heart, then his body would do.

As long as they ascended together, no one would be disappointed.

When Lu Heyang woke the next morning, he was far more composed than the first time he'd faced such a situation.

He easily found his glasses on the nightstand, took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and tossed all the dirty clothes into the hamper.

This series of actions flowed so naturally that it made him realize either he had initiated it himself, or Lu Xun's gentleness had provided him with a high-quality experience. Apart from a few scattered kiss marks, his body felt no discomfort.

They were undeniably compatible, save for the ridiculous identities imposed on them.

But he had slept in late, and there was no time for breakfast. When he left, Lu Xun was still sleeping. It wasn't until he got into the car that he received a WeChat notification. Opening it, he saw a message from Lu Xun: "I'll bring you lunch at noon," accompanied by a gif of a little character sending a heart.

…

Calmly slipping his phone back into his pocket, Lu Heyang had learned not to quarrel with Lu Xun over trivial matters like this. Let him do as he pleased, especially since his meals were low in oil and salt, just to his liking.

He had a two-hour lecture to give that morning. Though he hadn't arrived as early as he would have liked, he made it on time, not delaying any of his duties.

Psychology is a dynamic subject. It can be traced in every word and action of a person, and in any hot topic, one can always find aspects that lend themselves to psychological analysis. When Lu Heyang touched on theories of PUA and psychological control, the female-dominated audience, who had come to hear him speak, was especially enthusiastic. The topic hit a nerve, and the ensuing discussion brought the lecture to a climax.

Just then, the back door of the lecture hall swung open. From the corner of his eye, Lu Heyang saw a middle-aged couple enter. He thought they were looking for seats, but suddenly the man's booming voice rang out, "You scoundrel!"

Lu Heyang's words came to an abrupt halt. His expression tightened, thinking he had misheard.

"There's a lecture in progress. Please keep your voice down. Either take a seat or leave."

"You scoundrel!" the middle-aged man shouted again, pointing at Lu Heyang with a face full of hatred. "You don't deserve to be a teacher!"

All eyes in the room instantly focused on Lu Heyang, the once-distracted students now lifting their heads, ready to witness the drama unfold. In an instant, doubt, anger, fear, and amusement swirled and exploded around him.

But he was no longer the confused teenager who had stood lost in the ice rink thirteen years ago. He would no longer cower like a timid quail.

He licked his dry lips and calmly took a sip of water from the bottle on the podium, responding coolly, "Whatever grievance you have, we can discuss it after the lecture."

"No way! I'm saying this now so everyone knows your true face!"

Lu Heyang looked icily at the man before nodding slightly to a student in the front row near the door. "Please ask security to come."

"I'd say the same thing to anyone, even if the Emperor himself came. You're not fit to be my daughter's teacher!" The middle-aged man yelled, while the woman beside him tugged nervously at his wrist.

The crowd's gazes turned suggestive. A female student and a handsome male teacher—what a juicy combination.

Soon, security arrived and escorted the couple out. The classroom fell into silence, though it wasn't a true silence, as the lingering echoes of the commotion remained in everyone's minds. Images and sounds filled the room, and if they had substance, they would have packed the large lecture hall to the brim.

Lu Heyang adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and mechanically continued. He skimmed over the topic of psychological control, moving on.

Twice, the chalk snapped, and the fine dust dried his fingers to the point of cracking.