Professor 3
He was so scared that he wanted to revert to his original form and hide.
Would the villain suddenly start a massacre here?
But it all happened in the blink of an eye. Duan Sifei quickly concealed that fleeting killing intent, returning to his usual polite demeanor.
“This is my little assistant and apprentice.”
Huang Lihan suddenly understood. “If you’ve taken a liking to him, he must be quite outstanding.”
He didn’t mind that Tang Xi was ignoring him and just burying his head in his meal.
In his eyes, it was perfectly normal for a genius researcher to have their own quirks—just like how many people believed that artists were meant to be eccentric.
Duan Sifei didn’t respond to him either. Instead, he picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and placed it on Tang Xi’s plate. “You don’t like the other dishes?”
At that moment, Duan Sifei’s favorability in Tang Xi’s eyes finally reached a positive number.
Due to the angle, the waiter had only placed two dishes in front of him, and the sweet and sour pork happened to be far away.
To maintain his persona, he could only take food from the dishes closest to him, mechanically alternating between rice and vegetables.
1551 was exasperated: [Seriously? Just a few pieces of meat, and he’s won you over?]
Tang Xi ignored him, suppressing his excitement as he ate the piece of sweet and sour pork Duan Sifei had given him.
Awoo! The sweet and sour pork is so delicious!
He wanted another bite so badly, but he used all his willpower to keep his chopsticks from straying.
Fortunately, Duan Sifei was observant and quickly noticed the issue. However, instead of helping by moving the plate closer, he deliberately kept handing food to Tang Xi himself.
Each time Tang Xi swallowed a bite, another piece of meat would appear in his bowl, leaving him no choice but to eat it first.
And just like that, he was “forced” to taste every dish.
Duan Sifei seemed to find amusement in this feeding process, especially when Tang Xi put down his chopsticks after finishing, looking slightly disappointed.
No matter how grateful he felt inside, Tang Xi still kept a neutral expression, as if he didn’t care about what he was eating.
Meanwhile, Huang Lihan finally sensed that something was off. Stroking his chin, he remarked, “Professor Duan, this little guy of yours seems… a bit odd.”
He didn’t bother to lower his voice, saying it outright in front of Tang Xi.
But Tang Xi didn’t even spare him a glance, nor did he show any emotional reaction, further confirming Huang Lihan’s suspicion.
It was as if Tang Xi was lost in his own world, staring down at the patterns on his cup, counting them again and again.
“He’s very well-behaved,” Duan Sifei replied, completely dodging the question.
Huang Lihan shrugged, decided not to pry further, and took his leave.
As soon as he was gone, Duan Sifei removed his gold-rimmed glasses that had no actual prescription. His entire demeanor shifted.
The sharpness he had deliberately concealed now emerged completely, his gaze turning dangerously intense.
He gripped Tang Xi’s pale, pointed chin, forcing him to look up. His voice was low. “Did you count them properly?”
How did he know I was counting?
Tang Xi was startled.
The villain with glasses and the villain without them felt like two completely different people. The latter didn’t bother to hide his menacing aura at all.
His chin ached slightly from the grip, and he timidly answered, “Thirty-two.”
He had counted the patterns on the cup over and over, and the answer was always the same.
A hint of satisfaction flickered in Duan Sifei’s eyes. “Good boy.”
“Let’s go.” Duan Sifei gently let go and instead grabbed his wrist.
His wrist was so thin that it could be easily encircled with one hand.
Tang Xi glanced at his arm. Even though they had both spent years cooped up in the research institute, rarely seeing sunlight, Duan Sifei somehow had well-defined muscle lines—something he himself lacked.
Obediently, he let himself be led away. Even when he was seated in Duan Sifei’s car, he didn’t resist at all.
Although he disliked having his plans disrupted, he was surprisingly docile, allowing himself to be guided without protest.
Seated in the driver’s seat, Duan Sifei leaned over and fastened Tang Xi’s seatbelt for him. His eyes curved with amusement as he asked, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll sell you off?”
Before Tang Xi could answer, Duan Sifei suddenly slammed on the gas pedal, launching the car forward.
His driving skills were almost wild—completely mismatched with his refined appearance.
Tang Xi was thrown backward, his face turning pale with fright.
If he had a tail right now, he swore it would be bristling.
Duan Sifei didn’t even ask for his address and simply abducted him back to his own home.
By the time they arrived and stepped out of the car, Tang Xi’s legs were weak, and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears, clinging to his curled lashes, ready to fall at any moment.
He looked so easy to bully.
Duan Sifei lived in the penthouse of a luxury residential complex with tight security and good environment.
It wasn’t until they stepped into the elevator that Tang Xi finally regained his senses. He stared at the ascending floor numbers and asked the system, [Does he live on the top floor?]
Just like He Wang—both of them liked the highest floors.
This little detail unsettled him.
The system, 1551, didn’t notice anything strange and responded excitedly, [Yep! And he actually bought the entire building. The top floor was completely remodeled into his private home.]
Before their conversation could continue, the elevator doors opened. Tang Xi was pulled inside without resistance.
Contrary to the extravagance of owning an entire building, Duan Sifei’s home—though spacious—felt eerily empty.
The necessary furniture was all there, yet at a glance, the place lacked any warmth, exuding an icy atmosphere. A faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the air.
The space was well-lit, but heavy curtains blocked out every trace of sunlight.
“Go sit on the couch over there.” Duan Sifei affectionately ruffled his hair, his tone so natural that it was as if Tang Xi had come over willingly instead of being practically kidnapped.
The introverted little researcher didn’t dare resist. He sat down timidly, lowering his head without saying a word.
He wanted to go home, yet his instincts—like a small animal’s—told him to be wary of this man.
He dared not resist—this was someone who could wash the blood off his hands without a change in expression and then step out to chat and laugh with others.
Soft, harmless little creatures could only play dead or act obedient in front of him.
The sofa and the cushions on it were a matching set, a pristine pure white.
The plot never mentioned the villain having OCD, but from what he could see now, it seemed he had a touch of it.
Sitting on the sofa, he felt increasingly uneasy and finally realized what was off about this place.
There was barely any sign of life.
The trash bin was empty, the table held no daily necessities, and many objects showed no signs of use. The place was so immaculately clean it felt more like a showroom than a home—even the remote control was still wrapped in what looked like brand-new plastic.
Tang Xi took in his surroundings from the corner of his eye and couldn’t help but ask, [1551, are you sure this is his home?]
[Of course,] 1551 confirmed. [The villain just prefers spending time at the research institute, so he doesn’t come back often.]
But why would someone who rarely comes home suddenly decide to bring another person here?
Even in the original storyline, the villain had only brought the protagonist shou home twice, and that was much later, after he had developed feelings for him. Now, on their very first day meeting, he was the one being taken home? He wasn’t happy about this at all.
Though the villain didn’t frequent this place, it was clearly a private space—one he didn’t want others to step into.
He had no desire to be the exception to some lunatic’s rule. That sounded dangerous. In most TV dramas, people in his position didn’t live long.
Just as his thoughts were running wild, Duan Sifei finally emerged from the kitchen.
It wasn’t an open kitchen, so the moment the door opened, the aroma trapped inside rushed out.
The rich, sweet scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air.
Had the villain brought him home… just to bake cookies for him?
That sounded ridiculous.
But the familiar scent made Tang Xi look up. [1551, this smells just like the cookies He Wang used to make for me.]
In the previous world, after they got married, He Wang had learned how to cook, perfecting his pastry skills. For twenty years, he had personally prepared almost every afternoon tea for him.
Tang Xi knew this taste too well—there was no way he could be mistaken.
1551, lacking a sense of smell, dismissed it indifferently. [Don’t all cookies smell the same?]
Tang Xi fell silent, his gaze meeting Duan Sifei’s as he approached with a plate of cookies.
For a fleeting moment, he felt as if he were staring into the eyes of a predator eager to drag its prey back to its den and mark it.
Then he blinked, and the illusion was gone. Duan Sifei remained the picture of elegance, every move refined and gentlemanly.
Only the rolled-up sleeves revealing his powerful, well-defined arms seemed slightly out of place.
As if he could crush him with a single punch.
“Eat.” He held out the cookies to Tang Xi.
Looking at the neatly arranged, fish-shaped cookies on the plate, Tang Xi had to fight hard to suppress his trembling hands.
In the previous world, He Wang’s favorite cookies to bake were also fish-shaped.
He carefully picked one up and placed it in his mouth. The familiar taste danced on his tongue.
“Good boy.”
Seeing him obediently eat the cookie, Duan Sifei sighed—whether in relief that he hadn’t run or satisfaction that he had eaten it was unclear.
Tang Xi was completely thrown off. He couldn’t understand why the villain had made cookies that were identical to He Wang’s.
A near-absurd thought swirled in his mind.
The shock was so overwhelming that he only realized something was wrong with the cookie when the drug kicked in.
Too late.
As he lost consciousness, his last sight was of those peach-blossom eyes turning deep and dangerous…
. . . . .
[Wake up, silly cat! Wake up!]
The urgent electronic voice stabbed at his aching head.
Tang Xi slowly opened his eyes. The moment he moved, he felt a faint pain in his wrists and ankles, along with a stinging sensation from the friction of his clothes against his skin—like he had multiple abrasions.
Before he could even process what had happened, his eyes landed on the marks around his wrists.
Swollen red with hints of purple bruising, the contrast against his fair skin was enough to stir a cruel desire.
[…What happened?] Tang Xi’s memory gradually returned.
He only remembered eating the drugged cookie—everything after that was a complete blank.
When he tried to speak, a sharp pain pricked his tongue.
As if someone had been sucking on it all night.
1551 hesitated before answering, [He brought you back to the bedroom. At first, he tied up your hands and feet with ropes, but for some reason, he untied you about half an hour before you woke up.]
It conveniently left out the part where the villain, despite his seemingly restrained demeanor, had kissed and held his host like a complete pervert. Not that it mattered—Tang Xi would find out soon enough when he looked in a mirror.
He drugged me, tied me up.
Tang Xi still couldn’t confirm whether he had any connection to He Wang, but he had already marked this bastard down in his mental blacklist.
Maybe the noise he made had alerted someone outside because just as he was about to get out of bed, Duan Sifei pushed the door open.
He didn’t step in. Instead, he leaned lazily against the doorframe, watching him with a half-smile, his voice slow and gentle.
“Awake?”
Author’s note:
Drugging people! The villain of this second world is way too evil! Condemn him on the cat’s behalf!