Chapter 5

Take five bites.
“In. Your. Dreams.”
Ying Tao pulled the corner of her mouth and enunciated each word with vicious clarity.
He Mingye narrowed his long eyes. The light in them cooled a fraction. “What, calling me gege is that hard? Shrimp, do you have any conscience at all?”
“Nope.”
Ying Tao answered with perfect righteousness. “Conscience is only useful for tying yourself up and torturing yourself with guilt. What else does it do?”
He Mingye studied her for a moment, then snorted. “Twisted logic.”
“It’s the truth of the human world,” Ying Tao shot back.
He Mingye lifted his phone slightly. “Do you still want the photo?”
Ying Tao’s mouth stayed stubborn. “What, you think you can threaten me with one tiny picture? Let me warn you—don’t try to test my willpower with this kind of trick. I don’t want it anymore. Do whatever you want with it.”
Even as she spoke, she eyed him warily and edged back, trying to keep a safe distance.
No reason, really—except that this man had a long criminal record. Ying Tao had been tricked by him since she was little. She had to stay on guard in case he pulled something again.
He Mingye looked her over with lazy indifference, as if weighing how many pounds of courage she actually had.
Then, without warning, he bent closer.
Those phoenix eyes reflected her clearly, dark and deep like an endless wilderness. Ying Tao was caught off guard by the sudden eye contact; she stiffened.
His voice slid into her ear, low and rough with amusement.
“Really don’t want it?”
Up close she could smell the faint cologne on him. The top notes were crisp mint and bergamot, but the dry-down was heavier—musk and sandalwood. Not strong, but forceful, intrusive in a way that left no room to breathe.
She remembered now. It was a niche fragrance from a certain luxury house—He Mingye was their top ambassador. When he shot the commercial, the brand had used a tagline like:
Rain-soaked dreams at night. Breath tangled with breath. Let me capture your soul gently, and spend a tipsy, endless night with you.
He Mingye had even tossed her a bottle once as a casual “little gift.”
That night she’d still been awake, lamp on, studying late. Tang Mingfei was making a scene at home, blasting the speakers so loud Ying Tao couldn’t focus. In the end she grabbed her bag and simply climbed the wall into the He residence.
He Mingye didn’t usually stay there. But when she was little, she’d practically lived in the He house. Back when Ying Zhaohui and Wen Yalan first divorced, no one had the time to care for her—Ying Zhaohui was busy with work—so she ate and slept at the Hes’.
Later, after Ying Zhaohui remarried, she moved back home. But whenever Tang Mingfei stirred up trouble, Ying Tao would pack her schoolbag and climb the wall right back into the He yard.
No special reason. She just found Tang Mingfei annoying. And she didn’t want to fight—fighting was pointless. If you couldn’t beat it, you could at least dodge it.
That night, when she climbed in, He Mingye had just gotten home too.
Her feet had barely touched the floor. She groped toward the bed—
Click.
The room flared bright.
She squeezed her eyes shut under the sudden glare. When she opened them again, all she could see was a halo of light and, within it, a man leaning lazily against the doorframe.
He’d probably just come back from an event. He was dressed too formally: a suit with a sharp lapel, the collar cut into a deep V with no shirt underneath, only a snake-shaped necklace—some newly launched series from a top luxury brand, if she remembered right.
He lifted a brow, lips curving in a careless smirk.
“Shrimp. Sneaking into gege’s bed in the middle of the night?”
Ying Tao had been mortified. “I didn’t sneak into your bed. You don’t even live here. And Aunt He said I should stay in this room to focus on studying.”
She’d been preparing for exams then. Between training and everything else, her academic grades were terrible, so she’d been cramming like crazy. With Tang Mingfei at home, she couldn’t concentrate at all. Aunt He had cleared out He Mingye’s room for her—the best sunlight, the quietest.
“Working that hard?” He Mingye dragged out the words, then tossed a beautifully wrapped gift box at her without looking. “Take it. A reward from gege.”
To this day, she’d never used that perfume. It felt wrong. Like once she sprayed it, He Mingye would be right there beside her, shadowing her—creepy as hell.
Thinking of it now, Ying Tao shivered and instinctively leaned back. But before she could speak, the weight of his hand settled on her head.
His knuckles were distinct as he rubbed her hair twice, casually, like he owned the right.
Then his tired, lazy voice fell.
“Have dinner with me. I’ll give you the photo back.”
“Why should I believe you?” Ying Tao snapped. “Who knows if you’re just looking for an excuse to mess with me again.”
“Heartless little thing.” He Mingye wasn’t angry at all. He even pinched her earlobe, amused. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“Stop touching me.” Ying Tao wasn’t used to it at all. She turned her head to dodge him. “You’ve lied plenty. Your credibility with me is zero. Even Zhou Lubai is more reliable than you—he’s just dense. You’re a whole coal briquette full of holes. Eight hundred schemes from head to toe.”
Every time she believed He Mingye, it ended badly. If he hadn’t claimed he could cut bangs, would she have been laughed at for ages—and left with this blackmail material?
“If it weren’t for you, would I be standing here freezing my ass off?” she complained.
Her tooth already hurt, her mood was already bad, and now he was playing her.
He Mingye’s lips curled. His voice dropped, unexpectedly gentle.
“Fine, Miss. Then let me ask nicely: would you do me the honor of eating a meal with me?”
That sounded better. Ying Tao felt soothed. She nodded grudgingly. “Alright. Since you begged so sincerely, I’ll reluctantly agree.”
Then she added, as if to save face, “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not forgiving you.”
He Mingye gave a low laugh, his voice rich with lazy amusement. “Then how does Miss plan to forgive me?”
Ying Tao’s eyes flicked. “Unless you delete the photo.”
“That won’t do.” He Mingye looked down at her, smile teasing. “You’re slippery. I need something to protect myself. If you regret it later, wouldn’t I be the one who loses both ways?”
He paused, eyes meaningfully dark.
“Or… is our little shrimp planning to compensate gege with herself?”
“Nice try.”
Ying Tao lifted a hand and shoved his shoulder away, face blank. “Are we eating or not? If not, I’m going back to my dorm. It’s cold.”
He Mingye’s gaze dimmed. His face didn’t show it, but the lazy smile at the corner of his mouth thinned. His voice, though, stayed unhurried.
“Can you drive? Got your license yet?”
“Who are you looking down on?” Ying Tao shot him a disdainful glance. “I got my license the summer after senior year. Passed in one go.”
“Good.” He Mingye tossed the car keys at her. “You drive.”
Ying Tao caught them and muttered, “Fine. I’ll drive. Like I’m scared of you.”
…
When she got into the driver’s seat and put her hands on the steering wheel, she couldn’t help feeling nervous.
Back in driving school, she’d done fine. But she’d never really driven on the road properly. And the instructor’s car wasn’t even in the same universe as He Mingye’s.
The driving school car had been a plain, ordinary sedan. She’d heard that once a student got too nervous and slammed straight into a riverside barrier. The car nearly became scrap. After it was fixed, it developed a habit of stalling at random.
As for He Mingye’s car—if she wasn’t mistaken, it was a Koenigsegg Agera R. Six in the world. Only two in the country.
If Zhou Lubai weren’t a car fanatic who recited specs in her ear every day, she wouldn’t have remembered it so clearly.
Ying Tao held the wheel and took a quiet breath. She fumbled a bit, but finally managed to start the engine.
He Mingye rested his chin in one hand, watching her. Seeing her face taut with concentration, he couldn’t help laughing.
“What are you nervous for? Didn’t you say you passed in one go?”
“Who’s nervous?” Ying Tao swallowed quietly. “I’m… warming up. Getting used to the handling, okay?”
Her driving actually wasn’t bad. She’d grown up around it; with Zhou Lubai’s influence, she knew cars better than most people. She was just short on real road experience, so she was stiff at first.
The destination He Mingye set in the GPS was pretty out of the way. The roads weren’t crowded.
When the car first rolled out of the campus gate, she was tense. But once she’d been on the road a while and found the rhythm, she got smoother and smoother. The tightness in her shoulders eased, and that serious little face of hers gradually relaxed too.
The moment she relaxed, she got cocky. Her brows lifted, pleased with herself.
“See? I drive really steady.”
He Mingye’s smile was half there, half not. “Great. If you go a bit faster, we might arrive by sunrise.”
Ying Tao huffed. “I’m not you. You drive like a fighter jet taking off. Safety first, understand?”
Before He Mingye debuted, he’d been wilder with cars than Zhou Lubai. Zhou Lubai loved cars more than speed itself; He Mingye wasn’t picky about the machine—he simply enjoyed that razor-thin rush of flying at the edge.
They never let her watch races. She had to beg Zhou Lubai before he reluctantly snuck her in.
Before they went, he’d grabbed her by the shoulders and warned her again and again: “Don’t you dare tell your brother. And don’t tell Young Master I brought you, or I’m dead.”
On the surface, she’d nodded sweetly. Inside, she’d been cursing nonstop: what a double standard. He could do it, but she wasn’t even allowed to look?
The more she thought about it, the more it felt like he’d always looked down on her.
Annoyed, Ying Tao quietly pressed the accelerator. She kept her mind focused, and her hands moved more naturally.
“Careful.”
A harsh beam of light cut in from the side, flashing into her eyes. Out of nowhere, a white sedan shot toward them, fast and reckless.
Ying Tao panicked.
And in that instant, she caught the faint sandalwood on him again—steady, grounding, absurdly calming.
He Mingye clicked his seatbelt off. In one swift motion he leaned across, hand over hers, controlling the wheel and pulling it to the right.
The car barely avoided the hit. But the rear wing still got clipped. The impact sent them skidding, the vehicle slamming toward the divider.
Ying Tao felt the world drop into darkness.
Her body was pressed down. Her head was forced low, tucked into a familiar chest.
For a long moment she didn’t dare move. Fear and helplessness wrapped around her like a net. She clutched his sleeve and babbled without logic.
“A-Are you… are you dead?”
A soft scoff sounded above her head.
“Heartless little thing,” he said lightly. “Cursing me to die?”
He Mingye shifted back into the passenger seat. He glanced at her, lazy as ever, voice loose and unhurried.
“Or is our little shrimp so eager to die with gege?”