After writing that line, Jiang Luo smiled, but the smile was light and faint, seeming like a different person from before, “Isn’t this kind of desire quite dirty?”
Snap.
The slender pointer stick broke in two between the long fingers wearing white gloves.
The young handsome teacher retracted his smile, becoming expressionless.
A low-pressure atmosphere filled the classroom.
Jiang Luo’s expression remained calm. His upturned eyes, which once held sharpness and a teasing smile, now looked distant and detached like an otherworldly immortal, untouched by the mundane.
Chi You laughed hastily, “Dirty?”
His laughter stopped, and he repeated gloomily, “Dirty?”
Jiang Luo felt ecstatic inside.
Yeah, you’re dirty, dirtier than anyone.
The malicious ghost, dark clouds over his head, looked at Jiang Luo, tapping the blackboard with the remaining pointer stick, “What a pity, Jiang Luo. You still answered this question wrong.”
Jiang Luo quietly looked at him.
Chi You said, “The teacher clearly meant ‘make love.’ How can you use the crude term ‘have sex’?”
Jiang Luo’s mouth seemed to have a handle specifically designed to provoke the malicious ghost. Imitating the Fated One’s otherworldly demeanor, he replied helplessly, “Teacher, whether it’s ‘having sex’ or ‘making love,’ it describes the same thing.”
“Talking too much about this kind of thing makes it dirty.”
After saying this, Jiang Luo wanted to leave the podium, but suddenly he was pressed against the blackboard. His cheek rubbed the faded writing, smearing rough chalk dust.
His hands were tied behind him; the malicious ghost held his wrists tightly, voice cold: “I gave you two chances, and you didn’t answer the question, Jiang Luo. You’re making the teacher very disappointed.”
“The teacher will give you some punishment so that you learn to pay attention in class.”
Jiang Luo’s eyes flashed—what punishment?
“Teacher,” he sighed, as if not understanding Chi You’s anger, “how can a teacher treat students like this?”
He was too lazy to struggle. The more he acted like this, the angrier the malicious ghost became. Jiang Luo knew this well but deliberately tilted his head, gently persuading, “Teacher, this isn’t right.”
Though he said it was wrong, the slight upturn of his eyes carried a tone of coaxing—at first glance desireless, but looking closer, like a seductive ghost who could take your life.
Chi You’s abdomen was suddenly lightly tickled by something like a dragonfly touching water. The malicious ghost paused, lowered his head, looking at Jiang Luo’s hands.
“Sorry,” Jiang Luo said calmly, “your grip on my hands hurts a bit.”
It had to hurt—after all, bruises had already appeared on Jiang Luo’s wrists. The flesh was bloodied, his ten fingers flushed deep red.
Like crushed rose petals.
The malicious ghost’s wrath seemed to split into two parts: one was irritation at Jiang Luo’s current state of utter emptiness, the other was the inner fire Jiang Luo had unwittingly provoked.
But rather than simply dealing with these desires, the ghost wanted to force Jiang Luo back to his original self.
Jiang Luo didn’t struggle or provoke. He was fragile as if, if Chi You squeezed him to death, he wouldn’t even resist.
Chi You didn’t understand why such heavy anger and violence welled up inside him, but after learning Jiang Luo had soaked in the Tianbi Pool with the Fated One, his mind throbbed faintly, his reason slipping toward darkness.
Chi You looked at Jiang Luo.
Even though the young man’s face showed emotion, his heart was extremely calm. That calmness wasn’t the old Jiang Luo resisting him, but the blankness after losing desire and care for life or death.
“I really hate this version of you.”
The malicious ghost thought.
“No desire?”
“Then I’ll make you desire again.”
“Feeling dirty?”
“Then I’ll make you even dirtier.”
He would restore Jiang Luo to his former self.
“Dirty?” The ghost suddenly laughed. “Who’s dirty?”
The black-haired youth restrained by him, despite losing interest in resisting, said fearlessly: “You.”
“Me, huh…” The ghost’s voice was enigmatic as he sighed, “So I’m the dirty one.”
“You’re right,” the ghost laughed softly, lowered his head, and pressed a dangerous, possessive kiss on the defenseless nape of Jiang Luo’s neck, “I have desire for you, desire is dirty, and so am I.”
A strange excitement flushed the ghost’s eyes, his voice lowering to a sexy rasp, “Then I’ll make you dirty too.”
His other hand slid under Jiang Luo’s shirt hem and crawled up the young man’s beautiful, firm back.
The skin was supple; the ghost’s hand almost danced a teasing, ambiguous dance.
Jiang Luo frowned but kept his tone steady, “I’m not interested in you.”
Chi You lowered his head, looking at the youth’s slender neck and collarbones beneath his shirt. The boy’s thin frame seemed even more delicate under his gaze. The fan’s humming grew louder. The ghost laughed oddly, “It’s enough that I’m interested in you.”
Jiang Luo’s frown deepened. Every change of expression he showed seemed to excite the ghost’s twisted pleasure. The ghost deliberately left a small gap, letting him try to break free—and sure enough, after hesitating briefly, the black-haired youth slipped from his control.
The ghost’s hair was slightly disheveled; behind gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes looked like abyssal monsters filled with ill intent.
The black-haired youth, whose desires had been wiped away, was successfully provoked into some emotion and said with slight disgust, “Don’t touch me.”
The ghost laughed from low to high, the students below laughing with him. The laughter combined into something eerie and frightening. Jiang Luo looked back—those students’ faces had become terrifying, their eyes fixed on him, having half seen the kiss just exchanged between Jiang Luo and the ghost.
Jiang Luo stood on the podium, uncertain whether he should get down.
The ghost approached the podium edge and tapped it with his pointer stick, smiling at Jiang Luo: “Jiang Luo, come sit here.”
Jiang Luo remained motionless. The ghost feigned surprise, “Do you want the teacher to carry you?”
He stepped forward, slapped away Jiang Luo’s hands that blocked him, and forcibly lifted Jiang Luo onto the edge of the podium.
The ghost’s hands pressed on both sides of the podium, trapping Jiang Luo in his arms. The man’s possessive posture said it all. He looked at Jiang Luo with a half-smile, “Didn’t expect you’d have a day like this.”
“With such little effort, I controlled you. I’m disappointed,” the ghost said casually, eyes locked on every flicker of Jiang Luo’s expression, “Should I say you’re truly human? Still so weak.”
After being fooled by humans so many times, this time the ghost had to wonder if Jiang Luo was pretending all along.
“Who’s the other? The Fated One?” Chi You probed, sneering, “He controlled you so easily.”
Though his words were mocking, his hand meaningfully stroked Jiang Luo’s thigh, sliding up toward the groin.
“Jiang Luo, you’ve become a boring person.”
Jiang Luo’s thigh tensed; he lifted his eyelids and looked at the ghost, “It has nothing to do with anyone else.”
“I just purely feel you make me dirty.”
The ghost’s elegant smile stiffened.
A moment later, he waved his hand.
The fake students disappeared from the classroom.
Jiang Luo glanced behind him, marveling at the ghost’s possessiveness.
People are all fake, and he can make them vanish too?
A sudden heavy pressure pressed against the back of Jiang Luo’s head.
It felt like a huge hand crushing his spine and pushing his head, forcing him close to the ghost, forcing his lips to meet.
The ghost chuckled low, enjoying the youth’s lips, kissing fiercely without mercy.
The kiss was brutal, almost devouring Jiang Luo’s flesh; his lips cracked, bleeding.
Jiang Luo was indifferent but started struggling subtly.
The kiss abruptly stopped.
The ghost’s dark eyes were pushed away; Jiang Luo sat on the podium edge, a long thread of saliva hanging from his bleeding lips. He looked at the ghost with greater emotion stirring inside him—everything was perfect. The ghost felt as if he was reshaping Jiang Luo and grinned, “Then let’s get straight to the point.”
***
The ghost kissed Jiang Luo’s tailbone.
On the podium, chalk and a thermos lay scattered across the floor. The black-haired youth’s long, straight legs hung off the edge, pale and alluring.
The malicious ghost raised them, letting them drape over his arm.
“You’re dirty too,” he said in an exaggerated, mock-surprised tone. “So dirty.”
The malicious ghost let out a few muffled chuckles.
Sweat from his body dripped onto Jiang Luo’s skin. Jiang Luo gave a muffled groan, only to be met with another intense wave of unrelenting assault.
His hands were tense, tendons standing out clearly on his neck, blood rushing rapidly through his veins.
His chest trembled faster and faster.
Thump, thump.
Jiang Luo’s breathing grew heavy.
The malicious ghost watched as the calm and indifferent look in the youth’s eyes finally began to ripple. The cold, detached mask was shattered by him. Desire was rising from the depths of Jiang Luo’s eyes.
He had dirtied Jiang Luo.
The realization sent a shiver of pleasure through every nerve in Chi You’s body.
The black-haired youth, now fully awake, stared at the situation in disbelief. Without hesitation, he kicked at the malicious ghost, forcing a panic-stricken tone as if snapping out of a spell: “Chi You—”
He gritted his teeth in hatred.
But the malicious ghost only laughed, in such a good mood even a blind man could see it. He caught Jiang Luo’s ankle mid-kick and bit down on his calf, leaving a deep mark. “Student Jiang, so passionate first thing after waking?”
He easily suppressed Jiang Luo’s struggles, pinned him beneath again, and held his chin firmly, staring intently into those bright, fire-lit eyes. Something in the malicious ghost’s soul stirred, and he let out a low, chilling laugh—hysterical and eerie enough to raise goosebumps.
“I’m really starting to want to make our ‘lover’ status official.”
Jiang Luo’s eyes widened in shock.
***
At eight in the morning, daylight had already spread across the sky.
The black-haired youth lying in bed fluttered his eyelids. Sweat dampened his pillowcase and clung to his hair. He looked disheveled, yet exuded a lazy, decadent sensuality.
After a long pause, he let out a low groan and slowly opened his eyes.
He laid there in a daze for a while, then lifted the blanket to check himself—his brows furrowed immediately.
Muttering, “Almost forgot I need to wash my pants…”
But his whole body was limp with post-dream laziness. Jiang Luo didn’t want to move an inch. After thinking it over, he made a quick decision: he tossed the soiled pants and bed sheet out entirely.
He stretched languidly and slowly got up. After tidying himself up, he walked to the mirror to check his reflection.
His cheeks were flushed a deep red, his lips crimson like fresh blood. Between his brows lingered the satisfied air of indulgence, with hints of desire still at the corners of his eyes.
A little… wanton.
Jiang Luo’s eye twitched. He turned away and lazily set fire to the dirty clothes.
Last night had felt good.
The corners of his lips curled as he hummed a tune, fingers absently stroking his own arm.
Pity there wasn’t a cigarette for after—but no matter. He’d gotten his pleasure.
