Chapter 90: Alone with the Cold Beauty
"How did you know?" Zhang Yang’s mind instantly started scheming. Yang Fei, this wasn’t bringing it up—it was your grandpa who said it himself. Every debt has its debtor. Damn, I should’ve recorded this as evidence.
"How did I know? Because I arranged it." Yang Shushan looked at the steaming kettle and said calmly, "Of course, I didn’t know the other party was you."
Zhang Yang gave a wry smile. "Old sir, to be honest, if Sister Yang Jing hadn’t been so enthusiastic in setting it up, I wouldn’t have gone at all. But... even if I did go, it would’ve just been for show. Teacher Yang Fei has always been like a goddess in my heart. How could I possibly..."
Yang Shushan smiled, lifted the kettle before it fully boiled, and poured hot water into a nearby teapot. Using tongs, he swirled it around, dumped the rinse water, opened a tea canister, took out a packet of tea leaves, placed them in the pot, poured hot water again, quickly rinsed two yellow porcelain cups with the first brew, and then refilled the pot with fresh hot water.
His movents were smooth and practiced, as if he had done them countless tis. He poured two cups of tea, every motion steady and precise, like a seasoned soldier. Not a single tea leaf floated in the cups.
"You also think Fei’er’s a hard girl to approach, don’t you?" he said casually, gesturing for Zhang Yang to drink.
Of course she was hard to approach. No, forget approach—even ntioning her na made him nervous. Probably because his image in front of her was already wrecked beyond repair. Zhang Yang genuinely believed staying away from Yang Fei could help him live longer.
Still, saying such a thing in her family’s ho wasn’t exactly smart, so Zhang Yang carefully chose his words and slowly replied, "Actually, Teacher Yang isn’t hard to approach—she’s just too perfect. It easily makes people feel inferior. Like a poppy—beautiful, but once you fall for it, it’s hard to pull yourself out... ahem... maybe that’s too much. Let’s say she’s like the most luxurious perfu in a costics cabinet—everyone wants it, but they all know they can’t afford it."
"Hehe, I see. So in short, you’re saying my Feifei’s a cold, proud beauty that people find hard to approach." Yang Shushan leaned back slightly to sit more comfortably, sipped his tea, and asked, "You’re a man. Tell , if one wanted to win over such a cold beauty, what should he do?"
Damn, this old man’s sothing else—asking how to chase his granddaughter? Seriously? Is Yang Fei really that undateable?
Zhang Yang thought for a mont, then shook his head. "I don’t know. If it were , I’d just give up."
He felt that Yang Fei was like a lonely woman in the wind—trying to hold onto her was too hard.
Hearing that, a trace of disappointnt flashed across Yang Shushan’s face, but it disappeared quickly. He smiled and said, "I was just joking with you, don’t take it seriously."
Leaning forward, he changed the subject. "I heard from Professor Shangguan that the core theoretical frawork of the 'Dragonborn' Project was actually proposed by you alone. Is that true?"
Zhang Yang thought about it. Professor Shangguan had probably told Yang Shushan that so he would value him more. And given his status, he wouldn’t have shared that information carelessly.
So Zhang Yang nodded calmly. "That’s right. But these theories were developed based on the foundations proposed by Professors Shangguan, Ding, and Zheng Yuntai. To put it bluntly, I’m just the one who added the final brick to the pyramid."
His answer clearly earned Yang Shushan’s approval.
With a hint of appreciation in his tone, Yang Shushan said, "Not bad. For soone to achieve so much and still stay clear-headed and unconcerned with fa or gain—that’s rare."
Then his tone shifted slightly, becoming critical. "But while restraint is a virtue for the young, if you hold back too much, people might think you’re easy to push around. The key is balance."
Praise followed by critique—it’s always the critique that sticks. Zhang Yang took a sip of tea and nodded. "Thank you for the advice, Elder Yang."
Yang Shushan didn’t know his real situation, so his words weren’t wrong, but Zhang Yang still thought it was safer to keep a low profile—to play the weakling.
After all, exposing his full abilities without the ans to protect himself wasn’t wise. He could end up dissected for brain research.
"By the way, how old are you this year?" Yang Shushan poured him more tea and suddenly asked a completely unrelated question.
"Twenty-one. I’ll graduate next year," Zhang Yang replied. Funny—soone else had asked him the sa question recently. Who was it again? Oh, right, Deputy Mayor Xia.
"Feifei’s twenty-four, so she’s three years older than you..." Yang Shushan said with a smile.
The rest didn’t need to be said—"A woman three years older holds a golden brick." A popular saying indeed.
Zhang Yang opened his mouth, nearly spilling his tea, just about to say sothing when the crisp sound of high heels on stairs interrupted him, followed by Yang Fei’s calm voice.
"Grandpa, it’s ti for dinner."
Yang Shushan glanced at Zhang Yang, imdiately shut his mouth, and said with a laugh, "Zhang Yang, don’t forget to call Dean Wang and confirm when the agreent can be picked up."
"Oh, right, got it." Zhang Yang wiped cold sweat and replied awkwardly.
Yang Fei walked down gracefully, glancing at both of them. Her gaze toward Yang Shushan was one of mild reproach—but toward Zhang Yang, it carried a faint killing intent. Damn, Zhang Yang was sure he wasn’t mistaken—she looked like she wanted to stab him with a fork.
I didn’t offend her! Zhang Yang scratched his head. Wait, could it be... the conversation just now? Damn, if that’s the case...
Dinner at their house was rather peaceful. Two tables—one for the nanny, a driver, and Yang Bao, a middle-aged man who’d long served as Yang Shushan’s bodyguard. The other for Yang Shushan, Yang Fei, and Zhang Yang.
Yang Jing was working overti and didn’t co ho. Their father, Yang Xiuguo, was out socializing. As for their mother, no one ntioned her, and Zhang Yang didn’t dare to ask.
After dinner, Zhang Yang was about to leave when Yang Shushan called out, then said to Yang Fei, "Feifei, see him off for ."
Yang Fei glanced at her watch, then at Zhang Yang, and said, "Got it, Grandpa. I have to go back to school later."
"Not staying over?" Yang Shushan’s face showed clear disappointnt.
"Not tonight. Maybe another day. I’ve got a troubleso assignnt lately." Yang Fei shot Zhang Yang a calm glance—it was obviously about the English tutoring thing.
What could Zhang Yang even say?
While Yang Fei went to get the car from the garage, Yang Shushan sighed and gave Zhang Yang a bitter smile. "You know, this is only her second ti ho this year."
Zhang Yang didn’t have ti to ask why before Yang Fei’s car arrived.
She drove steadily, saying little along the way. Near ining University, she suddenly frowned, looked at Zhang Yang, and asked, "Am I really that hard to talk to?"
"Uh..." The sudden question made Zhang Yang jolt. He shook his head quickly. "No, no."
"If not, then why aren’t you talking?"
"Talking?" Zhang Yang glanced around awkwardly. "About what?"
A shadow crossed Yang Fei’s face. Her long lashes drooped as she turned her head away, driving in silence again.
"Teacher Yang, that’s not what I ant, I... uh, it’s really cold tonight, huh." Zhang Yang realized he’d stepped on a landmine and started babbling nonsense.
But Yang Fei was clearly pissed now and ignored him completely.
When they reached her dorm, Yang Fei checked her watch again and said, staring at Zhang Yang, "It’s eight minutes till seven. At seven, co find for your English tutoring."
Zhang Yang’s face darkened. This woman really counted every minute, huh?
But he didn’t dare say anything else and obediently waited until seven before knocking on her door.
Yang Fei hadn’t changed much—except she’d tied her black hair into a ponytail, giving her a refreshing youthful vibe.
That simple change also emphasized her full chest—her round, firm curves stretched tight against her top. The V-neckline revealed a deep cleavage. Her bust size must be around 34D—smaller than Gao Qi’s, bigger than Qiao Xier’s—the kind of size that drives n crazy.
The room was simple: a small living area connected to the bed, divided by an antique-style folding screen. In the living space stood a pale-blue fabric sofa with two large teddy bears, a 32-inch LED TV, a desk with a MacBook and an iPad, a bookshelf, and even a small fish tank with a few pretty goldfish.
The entire room carried a faint, refreshing fragrance that made one feel calm and comfortable.
"Sit." Yang Fei pointed to the sofa and sat on the room’s only swivel chair. She took a book from the shelf—apparently New Concept English.
She rolled the chair over to face Zhang Yang. As he lifted his head, he instantly saw sothing he shouldn’t have. Though Yang Fei’s legs were tightly closed and one hand covered the hem of her purple skirt, Zhang Yang was on the sofa, and she was on a computer chair.
Because of the height difference, his line of sight was level with her skirt. At such a close distance, even with her trying to cover up, he still caught a glimpse of the blue panties beneath.
Co to think of it, the first ti he t her, he’d accidentally seen those sa blue panties. What the hell, talk about coincidence. Yang Fei glanced at him, clearly catching the flicker of embarrassnt and guilt on his face.
This bastard had obviously seen what’s under her skirt!
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