Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 275

There wasn’t even a first-aid kit in Shi Yan’s apartment.

“I bike to and from work every day and exercise regularly. I hardly ever get sick, so buying medicine just to leave it sitting at home would be a waste.”

Two words summed it up: flat broke.

Su Ci couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as she listened.

Working-class life was just too hard. Struggling through long commutes, pinching pennies, getting exploited at work… and when you got hurt in a cramped rental apartment, there was no one there to take care of you.

Compared to Shi Yan, she was incredibly lucky.

Not only did she have the support of a well-off family, but she’d also earned her own fortune as a streamer, building a decent following and fanbase online.

But once summer break was over, senior year would mean internships and job hunting. She’d be getting up at the crack of dawn and burning the candle at both ends—probably wouldn’t have much time to stream anymore.

She was still conflicted. There were several reputable companies she wanted to interview with, but the bar was high. What reason would HR have to choose her over anyone else?

Better start working on her resume while she still had time over break…

Lost in thought, Su Ci didn’t notice the man silently trailing behind her down the stairs. His handsome, gentle features lingered in the shadows, eyes like a still, bottomless lake—hiding calculation and amusement beneath the calm.

“Have a seat here. I’ll get the lamp and the first-aid kit.”

Shi Yan sat rigidly on the couch, hands resting on his thighs. He wore a crisp white shirt on top and still had a bath towel wrapped around his waist.

The cut on his knee was too long for pants to be practical. And true to his word, he’d tied the towel into a knot that couldn’t be undone.

Eyes burning, he silently followed the girl’s graceful figure into the bedroom. The door, adorned with a cute Cinnamonroll charm, gently clicked shut.

Light seeped faintly through the crack in the door, barely revealing the room beyond, but Shi Yan’s curiosity only grew stronger. His eyes gleamed.

He’d glimpsed a bit of her room during her livestreams.

But this felt completely different.

Now, he was a real-life intruder, one without scruples.

If he wanted to, he could push that half-closed door open and effortlessly invade her private space, leaving behind traces of his own presence.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a silent swallow, the sound echoing through his chest like a stone dropped in still water.

Shi Yan quickly squashed the absurd thought.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the flashlight beam approaching. He lowered his gaze again, putting on a well-mannered, restrained posture—like a polite guest trying not to gawk around his host’s home.

Su Ci placed the lamp on the coffee table, adjusted its angle, and sat on a small folding stool. She pulled out iodine and bandages to tend to his wound.

“Lift your leg a bit—you’re blocking the light.”

His voice was low and husky. “Okay.”

The lamp was running low—only one bar of battery left. The dim light made her worry she might miss something while disinfecting, so she kept adjusting her angle to get a clearer look.

As he lifted his leg, the tightly-wrapped towel shifted ever so slightly, creating a small gap.

Her hand gripped his strong, firm calf, and her gaze unintentionally swept across a certain area. Her pupils contracted, lashes fluttering violently, and her breath suddenly hitched.

She bowed her head even lower, rushing through the cleaning and bandaging with clumsy, half-hearted movements—like she couldn’t wait to get rid of this hot potato.

“Tch—ow…”

Shi Yan gave a quiet hiss, trying to win some sympathy.

“You fell on your own. Serves you right,” Su Ci shot back gruffly.

He played innocent. “Yeah, I fell on my own. I deserved it. But what are you so mad about? It’s not like you’re the one in pain.”

Su Ci: “…”

She pulled the bandage tight and smacked his calf. “Go put on some clothes already. Running around in just a towel—pervert.”

She muttered under her breath, but Shi Yan caught every word.

Just as he was about to stand, he paused. Arms crossed, he leaned back, leisurely staring at Su Ci with a smirk playing in his eyes.

“Saw something you shouldn’t have?”

“…No.”

“Then why’re you blushing? And calling me a pervert?”

Shi Yan was clearly enjoying this. Just a moment ago, she’d been calling him Sheng Yan-ge so sweetly on stream, even sang a song just for him. Now, in person, she got an eyeful, then turned around and called him a pervert.

Why is she so cute? I want to date her.

He definitely noticed—her cheeks were redder than a ripe tomato, and those sly, foxy eyes of hers? Terrifyingly sharp. She’d stolen more than a few glances at him just now.

Shi Yan would admit it—he got a kick out of it.

Who could resist that look of shocked embarrassment from someone they liked? The kind of stare that lingered, like she might pounce on him any second.

And honestly, if she did, he wouldn’t mind.

He glanced down and said with clear implication, “By any logical standard, I’m the victim here. You’re the one who peeked. Doesn’t that make you the little pervert?”

Then, a beat later: “But I’m not that petty. If there’s something you want to look at, just do it openly. We’re neighbors, after all—I don’t mind sharing.”

Su Ci’s eyes went wide. She stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. Since when did being neighbors come with… that kind of benefit?

“We’re neighbors, after all…”

Shi Yan thought he was already being conservative. She’d touched his thigh and calf so many times while dressing the wound—by his standards, that already counted as skinship.

It was only because he was worried about scaring her off that he hadn’t pushed further. He had to take it slow.

As a seasoned strategist, Shi Yan knew better than anyone: patience and restraint were the key to a clean, decisive victory—whether in business or in love.

But his patience was wearing thin.

The cat had shaken him more than he’d expected.

Thanks to certain stereotypes, Shi Yan had never thought much of his rivals. Behind screens and cables, who knew what kind of man was operating the account? Could be some greasy uncle in his forties. Could be some flashy punk with no substance.

But when “Cat” unexpectedly revealed his face on livestream, Shi Yan realized—there was another terrifying possibility.

What if these guys were just like Xiang Shao?

Born with a silver spoon. Dripping with privilege.

Striking looks. Limitless wealth.

Compared to them, Shi Yan had plenty of disadvantages—family, status, power… the list went on. The only edge he had was proximity.

So what?

He was determined to be the first one to reach for the moon and hold it in his arms.

In the middle of the awkward silence, Su Ci suddenly said something unexpected.

“Stop talking nonsense. I wasn’t peeking. I just… wasn’t expecting you to shave your legs. It caught me off guard.”

Shi Yan: “…?”

That’s where her focus was?

Unbelievable.

Suddenly, the smug satisfaction vanished.

“I just think… for a guy to care about his appearance and manage his body hair, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said, simply trying to explain.

As everyone knew, men were usually hairier than women. But societal norms being what they were, when women didn’t shave their armpits, people talked about it like it was a scandal—as if personal choice had broken some sacred rule, and now she was fodder for gossip.

But really, for either gender, body hair should be a matter of personal preference. Letting it grow wild doesn’t hurt anyone.

Shi Yan just wanted to look a little cleaner in front of her.

But that simple explanation sounded very different in Su Ci’s ears.

So that’s why—aside from the hair on his head, every inch of him is completely smooth…

She really hadn’t meant to look…

But seriously, who wouldn’t be curious about something that looked straight out of an R-rated anime?

Her face felt like it was about to catch fire.

Still, Su Ci wasn’t one to beat herself up. Her motto was don’t ask why I did it—ask why he let me. So she looked? Big deal. It’s not like Shi Yan lost a chunk of flesh. Might as well own it!

He’s the one who wrapped that towel so tight—what’s the difference between that and low-rise skinny jeans?

Who’s he trying to seduce, anyway? Closet flirt!