***
Bonus chapter! Thank you to Somebody for the donation! ^^
***
It was clearly the man’s fault, but his deep voice carried a hint of indifference, as if he were genuinely contemplating how to punish Ruan Qing.
The classroom fell into dead silence. Everyone’s hearts were in their throats—no one could stay calm at a moment like this, even if they weren’t the one being punished.
After a moment of thought, the man finally spoke. "Your punishment will be to finish writing the three-thousand-word praise essay."
The other students in the class had been certain Ruan Qing was doomed, but upon hearing the man’s breezy words, they collectively exhaled in relief.
The original assignment was the three-thousand-word essay, so the punishment seemed like a deliberate leniency. This "new teacher" appeared far more easygoing than expected.
Only Ruan Qing didn’t relax in the slightest. If anything, his entire body grew even more tense. The man still hadn’t released his hand—instead, he pulled Ruan Qing into an embrace from behind, leaning in until his lips brushed the curve of Ruan Qing’s neck.
The man was noticeably taller, his broad frame enveloping Ruan Qing’s slender figure with an undeniable dominance, an unspoken aggression.
His gaze darkened as he studied the pale nape before him, his tone shifting from casual to something slower, deliberate.
"Still, letting yourself be swayed so easily… That’s not the composure a good student should have."
As he spoke, his long fingers trailed over Ruan Qing’s hand—the one clutching the pen—while his other arm slid beneath Ruan Qing’s, settling against the narrow dip of his waist.
This time, the man pressed flush against Ruan Qing’s back, close enough that their body heat mingled, leaving no space between them. The scorching breath against his neck made Ruan Qing shiver.
His body had always been sensitive, especially around his waist. The moment the man’s hand settled there, his fingers trembled uncontrollably again.
The pen tip pierced straight through the paper, leaving a deep gouge—rendering the page nearly unusable.
In truth, Ruan Qing’s hand hadn’t shaken that badly. But as it did, the larger hand over his guided the motion, adding just enough force to drag the pen across the paper, as if the mark were Ruan Qing’s own doing.
"Pathetic."
The instigator of this showed no remorse. Instead, he clicked his tongue in disapproval, shaking his head at Ruan Qing. His voice dripped with disappointment. "Your self-control is truly lacking."
"It seems you need… training."
***
At some point, the livestream’s feed had cut out again, plunging everything back into darkness. Not a single sound remained.
The classroom had long been empty except for the two of them.
A tall man embraced the boy sitting on the stool from behind, his posture domineering and unyielding. Upon closer inspection, one could see the man’s arm slipping beneath the boy’s shoulder.
The boy in his arms was stiff all over, gripping his pen tightly as he trembled, struggling to write something on the paper.
The man was too cruel—his summer shirt did little to block the sensation, especially when his fingers were teasing so shamelessly.
No matter how hard Ruan Qing tried to ignore the man behind him, he couldn’t focus. His handwriting was shaky and uneven, like that of a child just learning to write.
But the man showed no mercy. Instead, he grew even more relentless, his hand slowly sliding downward.
“Mm…” Ruan Qing’s fingers clenched around the pen, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. He parted his lips slightly, his voice trembling with helplessness.
“I’m a guy.”
“You said… you’re not gay.”
“I’m really not,” the man chuckled lowly, lightly nipping at Ruan Qing’s earlobe. His hands didn’t stop—if anything, they grew more audacious.
“I’m just curious.”
“Curious about how you made those sounds.”
The man’s voice was deep, deliberately hushed, carrying an inexplicable magnetism that made one’s heart skip a beat.
And it wasn’t just his words—his actions spoke even louder.
He was serious. He wanted to recreate the scene from that death call.
With his most vulnerable place in another’s grasp, treated so mercilessly, no one could stay composed enough to keep writing.
Yet the man’s voice, low and rough with command, left no room for refusal.
“Keep writing.”
“Student, you still have 2,795 words left.”
“Mm…” Tears welled up even more in Ruan Qing’s eyes. The overwhelming sensations made it hard to even hold the pen, let alone continue writing.
This… bastard.
Perhaps out of sheer defiance, Ruan Qing bit down hard on his lip, refusing to let those sounds escape.
Even when subjected to harsher treatment, he didn’t make a single sound.
The man raised an eyebrow at this. With one hand continuing its movements, he used the other to grip Ruan Qing’s chin from the front, tilting his head up and forcing him to turn toward him—then kissed him without hesitation.
Ruan Qing instinctively clenched his teeth shut, denying the man any chance to invade.
But for someone so weak, even their fiercest resistance only comes across as endearing in the eyes of the powerful.
Trapped entirely in the man’s grasp, where could he even hope to escape?
The man let out a faint, amused chuckle, his fingers tightening slightly as he abruptly picked up the pace, his thumb occasionally pressing down with varying degrees of pressure.
“Mnh…!” Ruan Qing’s eyes widened as the strength drained from his body all at once. He could no longer hold onto the pen in his hand, his slender frame arching backward from the overstimulation, exposing his pale, jade-like neck.
Beautiful.
And fragile.
Just as in the precognitive call—just as the man had imagined—the boy wasn’t suited for deception. He was better suited to being cradled in someone’s palm, to being toyed with and tormented at will.
And so the man acted on that thought.
This was his world. Anyone who entered it would belong to him forever.
Without an ounce of restraint, he claimed Ruan Qing’s lips, his grip on the boy’s chin unrelenting, while his other hand showed no neglect to the spot that craved affection.
By now, Ruan Qing had no strength left—not even enough to keep his jaw locked. With reddened eyes, he could only endure the man’s relentless assault, pitifully yielding to his advances.
“Mnh…!”
“N-no…”
Ruan Qing’s eyes were already glazed with tears, damp and shimmering—an expression that invited both pity and the urge to torment him further.
The man was truly merciless. Each time Ruan Qing teetered on the edge, he deliberately slowed his pace, easing his touch as if demanding that Ruan Qing beg.
Beg for release.
Beg for his help.
Ruan Qing’s eyes burned red from the torment, tears pooling thicker in those beautiful irises, yet he stubbornly refused to surrender.
His teeth dug into his lower lip, stifling any sound. His delicate face was a picture of restraint, his slender fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly they turned white.
The sight was truly pitiful, yet breathtakingly beautiful—like a powerless deity, humiliated and helpless, sinking into depravity in another's hands.
He wanted to hear more, see more.
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed uncontrollably. Gripping Ruan Qing’s chin, he kissed him again, his movements growing rougher.
“Mmm…” Ruan Qing’s beautiful eyes widened, tears slipping from the corners as his mind went blank for a moment. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
It wasn’t pain.
His body went limp, collapsing backward into the man’s embrace. His face was already flushed, his damp eyes glazed over, still dazed from the overwhelming sensations.
A beauty in the throes of ruin was even more mesmerizing—indescribably so.
The man looked down at the pliant figure in his arms, his heart struck by something unfathomable, his pupils dilating slightly.
It was a feeling like his chest might burst, even the resentment from his death washed away entirely.
He almost felt grateful for being dead. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have become the master of this nightmare world, nor would he have met this person.
This person was born to be his. Could only be his.
The man had long discarded the thought that he wasn’t gay. Now, he couldn’t even claim it anymore.
Suppressing the darkness in his gaze, he gently wiped the tears from Ruan Qing’s eyes, his deep voice hoarse with desire.
“Student, the bell’s about to ring. You’re still far from finishing your assignment.”
“You deserve punishment.”
Panic flashed across Ruan Qing’s delicate face, his wet eyes brimming with fear and unease. Clutching the man’s sleeve, he stammered,
“I—I can finish it…”
The man shook his head, tone firm. “No, you can’t.”
And indeed, it was impossible. At some point, the clock on the wall showed only five minutes left.
But… it hadn’t been that long.
The man had clearly tampered with time. Yet Ruan Qing could do nothing—reason was never an option with him.
Without another word, the man gripped Ruan Qing’s slender waist and effortlessly lifted him onto the desk.
The paper and pen had long since fallen to the floor, leaving the desk completely empty.
No—not completely empty. Ruan Qing was sitting on the desk, with a man standing in front of him.
It was an extremely dangerous position.
The man stood between Ruan Qing’s legs, making it impossible for him to close them. If he tried, he would brush against a certain dangerous part of the man.
Earlier, Ruan Qing had been facing away and couldn’t see the man’s expression. But now, facing him, he could see everything clearly.
Under the glow of the overhead light, the aggression and hunger in the man’s eyes were unmistakable. Gone was the elegant, noble demeanor of a privileged son of heaven.
Now, he more closely resembled a beast locking onto its prey, ready to devour it whole in the next second.
