Chapter 43: The Sweet Scent of Danger

Leaving the hotel, Su Mian still felt a lingering sense of unease. He was completely bare-faced, and though he still wore his wig, the absence of makeup worried him.

He constantly feared passersby might notice his masculine features, which would be utterly mortifying.

Yet, as he truly merged with the bustling street, the scrutinizing or strange looks he’d anticipated never materialized.

Much like the previous night, he still garnered a considerable number of glances, but these gazes held more admiration or curiosity, entirely consistent with before.

He subtly let out a breath of relief. It seemed this disguise and his face were far more deceptive than he had ever imagined.

Simultaneously, he acutely noticed an unusual shift in his physical state.

It wasn’t merely the clarity of just waking up; rather, it was an intrinsic lightness, his steps remarkably powerful, as if he could walk faster and for longer durations.

His vision, too, was extraordinarily sharp, allowing him to clearly discern even the smallest text on distant billboards.

‘Could expensive red wine actually have such potent restorative effects?’ he mused inwardly.

Even stranger, he kept sensing faint, hazy ‘currents’ drifting through the air. They resembled the distorted heat rising from a scorching road, yet they were omnipresent.

He furrowed his brow, attributing the sensation to the city’s common smog, and dismissed it without further thought.

Upon returning to his short-term hotel room near N University, Su Mian immediately sprang into action.

He swiftly shed the women’s clothing he was wearing, then stepped into the bathroom, allowing the warm water to wash away the lingering scent of alcohol and residual makeup from the night before.

As he changed back into his signature oversized T-shirt and jeans, and put on the thick-rimmed glasses that concealed most of his face, he gazed at his reflection.

The familiar yet somewhat strange ‘Su Mian’ staring back at him stirred a complex mix of emotions within his heart.

With an afternoon specialized course looming, time was pressing. He efficiently packed his luggage, checked out, and then hurried towards his dormitory, dragging his suitcase behind him.

The two-kilometer journey felt effortlessly short; he reached the dorm building in just over ten minutes. This speed astonished even himself.

Inside the dorm, Lu Yang and Qin Xuan had indeed already departed for class. Su Mian shoved his suitcase into a corner, ignoring the need to organize it, grabbed his textbooks, and sprinted towards the academic building.

“I’m sorry, I’m late.”

By the time he appeared, breathless, at the classroom door, the professor had already begun the lecture.

Under the gaze of the entire class, his cheeks flushed with heat. He quickly lowered his head and hurried to his seat.

“A’Mian, why are you so late today?” From the front row, Shen Zhixia turned her head at the sound, her voice tinged with concern.

“I overslept…” Su Mian replied, steadying his breath, while instinctively glancing at the empty seat beside Shen Zhixia. Xiao Moyuan hadn’t arrived either?

Could this top student, who always appeared so effortlessly in control, actually be late? This revelation sparked a subtle, inexplicable sense of balance within him.

It seemed the “urgent matter” he’d mentioned last night was truly significant. So important, in fact, that he was willing to leave a drunken “great beauty” like ‘Sweetheart Marshmallow’ alone at the hotel.

Shen Zhixia’s gaze settled on Su Mian, her nostrils subtly flaring. Her eyes instantly took on a hazy quality, and she almost unconsciously murmured, “So sweet…”

“What’s wrong?” Su Mian snapped out of his thoughts, noticing the peculiar expression on Shen Zhixia’s face.

That look, identical to the one she’d given him during their last walk, held an almost greedy intensity he couldn’t comprehend. It perplexed him; never, in all their years, had Shen Zhixia ever looked at him that way.

“Nothing, A’Mian.” Shen Zhixia abruptly composed herself, quickly reining in her emotions, and forced a somewhat stiff smile. “I mean… you smell wonderful. What shower gel did you use? It smells different from usual.”

Though she spoke these words, a tempest raged within her. She had clearly strengthened her control over her bloodlust in recent days through sufficient blood consumption and deliberate training.

So why, when she just approached Su Mian, did that primal craving surge so fiercely from the depths of her bloodline?

“Does it smell good?” Su Mian lifted his arm and sniffed, finding nothing particularly special. “It’s probably just the hotel’s shower gel.”

He thought the scent was quite ordinary, nowhere near as exaggerated as Shen Zhixia made it out to be. Noticing Xiao Moyuan’s seat was empty, an idea suddenly occurred to him.

Su Mian picked up his books, rose, and moved to that very spot, settling right next to Shen Zhixia. “A’Mian, what are you doing?”

As their distance closed, the ‘sweet fragrance’ that made Shen Zhixia’s heart pound became even more distinct. She could almost hear the accelerated rush of her own blood.

“Nothing at all,” Su Mian chuckled, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “It’s been a long time since we sat together, not since we started university. Since Xiao Moyuan isn’t here, I thought I’d come over and chat with you.”

Being so close to Shen Zhixia, without Xiao Moyuan’s annoying presence, significantly lightened Su Mian’s mood. He felt as though he had returned to a time when it was just the two of them.

“Mm…” Shen Zhixia managed a strained reply, all her willpower focused on suppressing the roaring desire within her.

She could even feel her canines uncontrollably itching and elongating, accompanied by a slight ache in her gums. Only by clenching her back molars could she barely restrain the impulse to lunge forward and sink her teeth into the pale neck so tantalizingly close.

Why was this happening? She had perfectly controlled it yesterday! Was her training intensity still insufficient?

A pang of regret flashed through her — if only she had known, she would have completely drained that ‘food’ last night. Perhaps then she wouldn’t be this ravenous now.

Completely oblivious to the painful struggle his companion was enduring, Su Mian was lost in the long-missed sense of closeness, reminiscing about the past:

“Zhixia, do you remember? When we used to sit together in school, other classmates would always draw ‘three-eight lines’ on their desks, but we never did.”

“And my sister, Su Baixue, she always used to run after us when we were little. It’s a shame she started rebelling in high school; I really wonder when she’ll go back to how she used to be.”

“But Zhixia, your personality seems to have remained unchanged, so remarkably stable. Did you never have a rebellious phase? It just goes to show, rebellion truly depends on the person.”

Su Mian prattled on, but Shen Zhixia couldn’t register a single word. Her rationality was steadily retreating under the onslaught of desire, her defenses teetering on the brink of collapse.

‘A’Mian smells so incredibly sweet… Just… a small bite… it should be fine, right? He won’t notice…’

The thought echoed like a relentless mantra in her mind.

Her eyes gradually grew vacant, and her body, obeying instinct, leaned subtly towards Su Mian. Her lips parted silently, faintly revealing the increasingly sharp tips of her fangs…

“Excuse me, I’m late.”

A cool, clear voice echoed from the classroom doorway, instantly shattering the precarious balance.

All eyes, including Shen Zhixia’s almost unfocused pupils, collectively swiveled towards the door.

Xiao Moyuan stood there, his expression as indifferent as ever. His gaze swept across the classroom, landing precisely on the figures of Shen Zhixia and Su Mian, who were sitting closely together. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and the atmospheric pressure around him seemed to drop several degrees.

He stepped into the classroom, walked directly to Su Mian, and, lowering his gaze to him, spoke in a quiet but undeniably commanding tone: “Go sit in the back.”

Su Mian was momentarily stunned by his icy gaze and tone. He had intended to retort, “If you’re late, just find an empty seat,” but the words caught in his throat.

The Xiao Moyuan before him was a stark contrast to the person he’d encountered yesterday in the restaurant—who, despite his probing, had been relatively “gentle,” and even called him “wife” online.

“Why are you so fierce…” Su Mian mumbled under his breath. Nevertheless, he conceded, picked up his books, and obediently returned to his seat in the back row.

He slumped onto his desk, watching Xiao Moyuan’s tall back with a mix of frustration and complex emotions. For a fleeting moment, an absurd thought crossed his mind:

‘It seems… when I was ‘Sweetheart Marshmallow,’ the treatment was indeed much better.’

The instant Xiao Moyuan appeared, Shen Zhixia felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head. Her fervent desires were forcibly suppressed.

She took a deep breath, composed her expression, and turned to offer Xiao Moyuan a flawless smile. “Moyuan, why are you late today?”

“Hm,” Xiao Moyuan replied, settling beside her, his tone utterly flat. Yet, the reason he gave surprised both Su Mian, who was eavesdropping from the front, and Shen Zhixia, who was struggling to maintain her smile: “Overslept.”

The lecture resumed. Xiao Moyuan appeared to be listening, yet his peripheral vision subtly assessed Shen Zhixia beside him.

In the three days since he last saw her, the demonic energy emanating from her had become exceptionally subdued, almost indistinguishable from that of an ordinary human.

This was a stark contrast to the previously undeniable, overflowing aura of coldness she possessed.

A flicker of doubt arose in his mind. What had allowed her to make such remarkable “progress” in just three days?

High-ranking blood relatives were indeed exceptionally skilled at disguising their aura. Unless they deliberately exposed themselves, even demon hunters found it difficult to differentiate them from ordinary people.

The special-grade blood relative he had been tracking was precisely like this, perfectly hidden within human society, eluding his search until now.

This was also why, even when his curse flared up and required demonic blood to suppress it, he hadn’t easily made a move on Shen Zhixia. He understood that a long line was needed to catch the true big fish behind her.

However, at this moment, Shen Zhixia’s disguise was almost indistinguishable from reality. Without deliberately sensing it, even he would struggle to detect any anomaly.