Yan Song let go of his hand, flinging the youth effortlessly behind him. The boy stumbled and plopped down onto the ground with a thud.
The youth was on a bike, with one foot still touching the ground, appearing even more slender and irresistibly cool.
Looking against the backlight, his face was sowhat indistinct, but those brooding brows and cold, deep gaze pierced right to her core.
"Ji Yunya, don’t talk to strange n," he said with a domineering and arrogant tone.
Yun Ya looked at him, sowhat entranced.
Yan Song’s brows were furrowed so tightly they could squash a fly: "Are you deaf..." He suddenly changed direction mid-sentence: "Didn’t you hear talking?"
That was close, he nearly crossed a line.
He rembered that as a child, he and Yun Ya had fought because of those words. It seed that he had so understanding of Yun Ya now. With a brother like that, she must have detested those words all her life.
He reminded himself never to make the sa mistake twice.
He could never forget Yun Ya’s cold and resolute expression at the ti, which left a deep shadow in his heart. Over the past ten years, he had thought about it countless tis and, despite his pride, had to admit.
He had indeed been in the wrong.
What were the unspoken words? Deaf or mute...
Yun Ya gave a slight smile, a good start, proving that Brother Yan was willing to change for her.
She stepped forward to approach him. He was too tall, so she needed to tilt her head back to see his face clearly.
"Brother Yan, I didn’t talk to him," she said.
Her docile appearance eased the discomfort in Yan Song’s heart.
The youth rose awkwardly from the ground, and upon seeing Yan Song, his face, originally flushed with exasperation, suddenly changed. With a call of "senior," he glanced again at the sweetly smiling, well-behaved girl...
The girl, who appeared so elegant and noble, now seed like she had fallen from heaven to earth before this boy, her smile touched with a breath of worldly charm.
Under Yan Song’s chilling gaze, the youth dared not look any longer and hurriedly turned to leave.
Who was this girl, and more importantly, what was her relationship with Yan Song?
Yan Song was like a shining beacon wherever he went, automatically attracting everyone’s attention. Girls walking out of the school gate followed his figure with their eyes; seeing him talk to a girl and even teaching a flirting boy a lesson – that boy was quite famous too, the main player of the school’s basketball team.
"Who is that girl? The god of n is actually talking to her..."
"Exactly, exactly, I would be so happy I might faint, that girl is so lucky."
"Even though she’s pretty, I still have to say, don’t steal my god of n..."
A group of girls chattered and speculated, but what followed was even more astonishing.
Yan Song, annoyed by the noisy chatter behind him, frowned and gave Chao Yunya a little eyebrow flash: "Get on."
Yun Ya looked at the bare back seat and pursed her lips.
"Brother Yan, I’d rather walk," she said.
Yan Song gave an exasperated roll of his eyes, grabbed her arm with one hand, pulled her into his embrace, and then his large hand on her slender waist exerted a slight force. The next mont, she was sitting astride on the bike’s crossbar.
Yun Ya let out a gasp, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning into his hold.
A low chuckle arose beside her ear, tinged with a hint of pleasure, and the chest beneath her cheek vibrated, heating Yun Ya’s face a shade warr.
Just as she was about to lift her head, Yan Song murmured close to her ear, "Where shall I take you?"
Yun Ya hesitated, whispering back, "By bike? It might be a bit far."
"To the edge of heaven and earth, I will take you," his low voice hid a whisper of tenderness, that touch of softness threading into Yun Ya’s heart like silk.
She rested her head in his embrace, her arms firmly wrapped around his lean waist, inhaling the fresh grassy scent off him, closing her eyes with a sweet smile on her lips.
"Okay," she replied.
She gave the address, and Yan Song lowered his gaze to look at her, "Hold on tight."
The next mont, the bicycle shot out like an arrow, the wind whistling past her ears, lifting her cloud-like hair. Her tresses brushed his face, the faint fragrance of the girl intermingling with the air. Holding the delicate beauty in his arms, even as he pedaled the bicycle, Yan Song found his thoughts wandering.
Everyone was dumbstruck.
Their god of n who had always been high above and indifferent to confessions from girls, was actually letting a girl sit on the crossbar of his bike and talking to her so gently.
Oh my, had the sun risen from the west?
No sooner had they left than the school’s forum exploded.
It was flooded with intimate photos of the god of n and a girl.
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