Pei Xingyan tried to communicate on his phone, but before he could do anything, Su Shanshan’s messages had already bombarded his phone like a fleet of bombers.
Relentless insults kept flying at him, mixed with words that were downright indecent—it was honestly ugly to read.
No one could possibly connect this explosive girl now with the gentle, water-like girl from just moments ago.
But Pei Xingyan wasn’t annoyed at all. He knew his instincts weren’t wrong.
The first time he saw this girl, he’d felt there was something unstable about her.
This was an intuition he’d honed from dealing with rare cases like Ye Ziwei, and when it came to reading people, he’d never missed the mark.
Still, business is business. Even so, he didn’t want to give up such a large sum of money.
For the first time, he sent a voice message through the app, apologizing in a gentle tone, not at all angered by Su Shanshan’s barrage.
After that, he muted her messages for the time being and stopped looking.
It wasn’t wise to go looking for trouble at a time like this.
Just then, things on the other side made progress—Lin Xiaoyu, after struggling for two days to learn, finally sent him the next round of guidance.
She sounded full of confidence, and even through the phone he could imagine her animated expression.
But in her words, there were some things that weren’t quite right. Pei Xingyan could tell—this was a typical case of a layperson using a search engine and ending up with the wrong information.
After all, each field has its own barriers, and musical instruments are no exception. Lin Xiaoyu didn’t even like music; she was just swept up in the desire to be praised.
So making mistakes like this was inevitable, and Pei Xingyan knew this day would come.
And this was exactly the moment he’d been waiting for.
He quickly replied with a few messages:
【Thank you! I just happen to have an event to attend in the next couple of days. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling very confident, but your teaching is literally a lifesaver!】
【You’re really amazing, knowing so much.】
【If only I had half your talent (✧◡✧)】
Lin Xiaoyu replied with a voice message almost instantly, like she’d been waiting by her phone:
“Hehe, it’s nothing! I’m happy I could help. Even though you’re always asking me for advice, for some reason it just puts me in a much better mood, so you don’t have to be so polite~”
A pure-hearted girl always brings good vibes, and Pei Xingyan found himself enjoying it too. He showered her with a few more compliments before reluctantly logging off.
But after he put his phone away, thinking about the shady thing he was about to do, he felt a little guilty.
Still, in order to gain Lin Xiaoyu’s trust and find out the root of her illness, he had no choice.
This was the best way to earn her trust.
Whether it was Lin Xiaoyu, Su Shanshan, or Tang Xin, who didn’t take things too seriously, these girls who hadn’t experienced many hardships treated deals worth hundreds of thousands as if they were child’s play. Maybe it was because they lacked experience, or maybe they just didn’t care about such small sums.
But Pei Xingyan didn’t see it that way. He’d fallen from the mountain before—he’d learned his lesson. No matter what he did, he had to see things through to the end.
He set out under the banner of “spiritual comfort,” but his goal was to get this huge sum of money. So, he had to make sure they willingly paid the final payment.
That meant he had to solve their psychological obstacles, no matter what method he used.
*****
Still, a student’s main job was to attend class. He could skip a couple of easy, unimportant ones now and then, but he couldn’t skip all the time—especially not required courses. Failing a class was something he just couldn’t accept.
He spent the whole afternoon in class.
By the time class ended, Su Shanshan was still at it, unable to control herself, her messages flooding in like a barrage.
Pei Xingyan apologized again in a gentle voice, even reminding her to take care of her health—getting angry for too long was bad for the liver.
He chuckled to himself, thinking he was quite the “caring guy.”
But as he walked with his head down, he didn’t notice and bumped right into a soft, warm chest.
It was a woman’s embrace. Don’t ask how he knew—the scent and feel were unmistakable.
“Sorry, sorry!” His heart leapt into his throat as he quickly stepped back and apologized.
But in response, he heard a light, tinkling laugh, ringing like silver bells, making his heart itch.
Pei Xingyan looked up to see it was Shen Zhishu.
“Professor Shen?” He was stunned. Why did he keep running into this big shot lately?
But he still didn’t forget to apologize. “Sorry, Professor Shen, I was looking at my phone and didn’t notice. Really sorry.”
Shen Zhishu giggled softly. She didn’t blame him or forgive him, but instead grew curious, craning her neck to peek at his phone.
“What were you looking at? So engrossed you forgot where you were going?”
Pei Xingyan put his phone away and smiled apologetically, repeating his apology several more times.
Finally, Shen Zhishu started to look annoyed. She straightened her face and scolded, “I say, class is over now. Can you stop calling me ‘Professor’ or ‘Teacher’ all the time? I really don’t like being addressed that way.”
“Then… Professor Shen?”
“I’m not even teaching your class, and you’re not my grad student. That’s not appropriate either.”
She blocked his way, making no move to let him pass.
“Then what should I call you?” Pei Xingyan sighed, feeling like this big shot was just making things difficult for him.
“Hmm…” Shen Zhishu pressed her finger to her lips, pretending to think. She paused, and it was hard to tell if she was really thinking or just putting on a show.
Suddenly, Pei Xingyan remembered his own question and pleaded, “Professor Shen, can we set aside the whole title thing for now? I actually have something I need to ask you…”
“Oh?” Shen Zhishu perked up. “Let’s hear it?”
For some reason, Pei Xingyan always felt like this woman, who wasn’t much older than him, kept sneaking glances at his face.
But when he looked more closely, it seemed like just his imagination, so he decided to focus on his question.
“If there’s a girl who’s sometimes really nice to you—so gentle it’s almost scary, always saying you’re the most perfect man in the world—but then suddenly explodes and turns hysterical… could that be some kind of psychological disorder?”
“I’m a biologist, not a psychologist. Don’t you think you’re asking the wrong person?” Shen Zhishu looked a little speechless, and maybe even a bit disappointed—perhaps his question had let her down.
“Please, please, I really have no other way. I can’t find anything like this online, but it’s urgent—ten thousand on the line, so I had to ask you,” Pei Xingyan started laying it on thick, “You’re so young and accomplished, your connections must be great. Can you help me ask around? Besides, look, even the Nobel Prize is for Physiology or Medicine, right? Isn’t that close enough? Please~”
He kept pestering her, and it gradually worked. Shen Zhishu lifted her chin and nodded, indicating she’d help.
“Thank you, thank you, Professor. You’re beautiful and kind.” Pei Xingyan didn’t forget to pile on a few more compliments.
Surprisingly, Shen Zhishu quite enjoyed the praise, straightening her back and shaking her head with pride.
But then she seemed to remember something. After a pause, she slowly opened her eyes.
“Why are you running into people like this?” she asked with a frown, her expression unfriendly. “The person you’re talking about isn’t your girlfriend, is she?”
Pei Xingyan suddenly felt a cold wind slip under his collar and race down his back, raising goosebumps all over.
He’d felt this same sensation from Ye Ziwei before.
He could only shake his head firmly.