Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 3

Class was mind-numbingly boring.

Dry material, endless formulas—they buzzed like annoying flies, clouding the brain and making it hard to think.

Because of his mental condition, Qi Du had dropped out of school early.

He was addicted to extreme sports—street racing, bungee jumping, skydiving. As long as it didn’t kill him outright, he’d try it. After all, what was there to lose?

But the moment he saw Su Ci, he suddenly felt both lucky and afraid.

Thank god the grim reaper hadn’t taken his worthless life. Otherwise, this amazing private tutor might’ve gone to teach someone else.

Those loser friends of his? If any of them had landed a top student from Jing University as a tutor, would they have appreciated it like he did?

Su Ci was dressed lightly—a fitted blazer hugging her slender waist. She was tall and delicate, a little malnourished-looking.

At least, that’s how Qi Du saw it. Way too skinny.

He turned up the air conditioning slightly, then brought her a thin blanket.

As he held it, he hesitated. Should he give her one he’d used before, or a completely fresh one?

They were all clean, smelling faintly of detergent.

He imagined her wrapped in one of his blankets, totally enveloped in his scent, his territory…

That thought was a little too much—Qi Du felt every pore on his body shiver with excitement.

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and finally picked out a brand-new grey fleece one. The print? A ridiculously cute border collie.

“S-Su… Teacher Su, why aren’t you sitting? Is the chair uncomfortable?”

For some reason, Qi Du didn’t want to call her “teacher.” It made them sound generations apart. But they were only two years different—she was a junior in college, and he had just turned nineteen.

Su Ci glanced at the only chair in front of the desk.

A comfy gaming chair, adjusted high to fit his nearly six-foot-two frame—clearly where he played games all the time.

So they were supposed to share that chair?

How were two people supposed to sit in it?

With his build, squeezing in wasn’t realistic. Did he want to hold her in his lap?

This kind of inappropriate setup—she’d been the one forcing it on others before. It was strange to be on the receiving end for once.

She smiled slightly, took the blanket from him. “You sit first. I just need to grab your materials and textbooks. I’ll be right there.”

Su Ci placed her backpack on the couch and bent down to search through it.

Qi Du obediently sat down, but his eyes never left her. His neck ached from craning, but he stared unblinking.

Until she stood up and walked toward him, holding the textbooks.

That’s when it hit him—God, he was such an idiot! There was only one chair. Where was she supposed to sit?

He was about to get up and fetch another chair, when she calmly set the books down, smoothed her skirt with both hands… and sat directly on his lap.

She was light—almost weightless, soft and warm against him.

Qi Du’s breath stopped. His heart skipped a beat. His eyes flashed with confusion, shock, even a bit of shame.

He had only dared to dream of covering her with his blanket.

Never in his wildest thoughts had he imagined she’d actually sit… sit right on him.

Did this mean he could push things just a little further? Wrap her up completely in his scent, his territory?

Su Ci tilted her head and asked, “Is this okay? Will it affect your writing?”

Their bodies were so close that he could faintly smell her—sweet, like pears and gardenia.

Her expression was calm, innocent, like she didn’t think anything was off about the situation.

Qi Du hurriedly shook his head. His voice came out flustered from the panic: “Not at all! Teacher Su, my arms are long—I can reach the book just fine.”

He wrapped his arms around her, picked up the pen with his right hand, and gave it a try.

From the outside, it looked like he was fully hugging her while doing homework. Qi Du couldn’t help thinking how shameless he was.

Taking advantage of such a serious, dedicated tutor.

Su Ci glanced down at what he had been doodling earlier—a crooked, wobbly little heart. Ugly, but somehow endearingly stupid.

Meanwhile, An Kefan had run around several households, yet none offered a good tutoring gig.

After leaving the Qi household, every new parent seemed like a stingy boss. The best offer she got was 200 yuan an hour.

What a joke. The juice she drank last lifetime cost more than that per bottle.

And yet those parents dared to be picky—complaining about her GPA, saying her personality didn’t fit.

Furious, An Kefan snapped at one of them:
“Your kid inheriting a throne or something? I’ve taken tutoring jobs at 2,000 per hour. If you can’t afford a private tutor, then don’t act rich. Show-offs!”

Even the Qi family, owners of a major company, didn’t ask for this much nonsense.

The parent laughed and said, “Then show us proof. If you really got 2,000 an hour, we’ll match it.”

An Kefan reflexively pulled out her phone—but all she had was a 500-yuan transfer from the butler, Uncle Zhong. She didn’t even have Mrs. Qi’s contact info.

That was last lifetime. How was she supposed to prove anything?

Grabbing her bag, she left. What she didn’t know was that just minutes later, someone posted a warning about her in the tutoring job group chat.

She wandered for hours before finding a decent job: 150 yuan per hour, two sessions on weekdays and four on weekends.

Nothing compared to the 2,000-per-hour deal Mrs. Qi had offered, let alone the occasional bonus red envelopes.

But it didn’t matter. Escaping Qi Du was worth any financial loss.

An Kefan consoled herself with this thought as she hailed a cab back to school. When it came time to pay, the screen popped up with “Insufficient Balance,” and her face flushed in embarrassment.

“Hurry up, girl! I know college students got it tough. Uncle’ll knock a few bucks off. Gotta catch my next ride!”

She rummaged through her bag and scraped together a few coins to add to her balance—just enough to cover the fare.

Getting out, she immediately checked her transaction history.

One glance made her freeze. She had spent over 400 yuan just on cab rides that day while job hunting.

Plus, she’d treated herself to a private restaurant lunch. The base meal alone cost 1,200 yuan—about her entire monthly budget.

Which meant… it was only the 1st, and she was already broke.

The hot summer wind blew past her, and she stood there blankly. For someone used to luxury, this was a humiliating day.

She used to get chauffeured in limited-edition luxury cars.

She never checked price tags—if she wanted something, she bought it.

Now, her sweat-soaked street-market clothes clung to her, and her stomach ached from hunger. She couldn’t even afford a bowl of fried noodles.

For a moment, An Kefan felt like crying.

This was all Qi Du’s fault.

She could’ve lived simply, been content. But he had spoiled her with his disgusting wealth.

Just then, a black-and-red Bugatti roared past her, the rush of wind blowing her hair loose.

She looked up—and froze.

A cold chill crept from her toes to her scalp. Her back was drenched in sweat.

That was Qi Du’s sports car.

She’d recognize it even if it were reduced to ashes.