My Boyfriend is the Heartthrob, and I’m Just a Passerby.

There weren’t many people going to Shenchuan County.

Even with Ye Jishu and the supervising teacher included, there were only a dozen or so people.

Yan Mei had probably informed the others in advance, so when Ye Jishu appeared, no one seemed surprised. Instead, they naturally made space for him beside Yan Mei.

However, their gazes collectively landed on him, as if he were some kind of rare creature.

[Everyone here is a student under the same mentor. If a stranger suddenly joins, wouldn’t they find it strange?]

[But even so, this scene still feels too weird.]

Ye Jishu’s gaze shifted to Yan Mei.

He saw the other party finish his conversation with the supervising teacher and walk towards him from the front of the bus. As Yan Mei moved, the attention of the others also shifted, falling onto him.

[…Forget it. It’s fine like this.]

[Anything that seems unreasonable somehow becomes reasonable when it comes to Yan Mei.]

It had always been this way. Probably.

Even now, knowing that Yan Mei was some kind of non-human existence, he still couldn’t immediately associate anything abnormal with him.

Yan Mei placed both of their backpacks under the seat, then sat beside him. Sensing his gaze, he immediately asked, “What’s wrong, Jishu? Are you feeling unwell? Do you want me to turn on the air conditioning?”

Maybe it was because there were very few students in the Folklore Studies department that, compared to the Mathematics department, their funding was much lower. The Math department had directly rented a large bus, allowing every student to sit wherever they wanted without feeling cramped.

Hearing Yan Mei’s question, Ye Jishu shook his head.

He turned his face slightly and pulled open the curtain by the window. The strong sunlight immediately streamed in from outside.

Today was another scorching day.

But since Shenchuan County was relatively remote, the journey occasionally passed through patches of shade, making the heat somewhat bearable.

It was just an ordinary view.

Yet, Ye Jishu stared outside intently.

Unnoticed by him, Yan Mei had been watching his profile the entire time, emotions churning in the depths of his eyes.

…

Soon, they arrived at the guesthouse.

The supervising teacher stood by the bus door, waiting for the students to disembark.

Yan Mei noticed Ye Jishu’s gaze lingering on the large tree in front of the guesthouse.

But before he could call his name, the other had already withdrawn his gaze and silently walked to his side.

“…”

Ye Jishu walked just like he was as a person—completely silent, with a slow and steady pace that somehow felt soothing just to watch.

[So cute.]

The thought suddenly popped into Yan Mei’s mind.

He lowered his head, looking at the top of Ye Jishu’s head.

Before the other could react, Yan Mei had already leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Then, he pressed another kiss against the tip of his nose, cupped his face, and kissed him again.

Once.

Twice.

Ye Jishu hadn’t even processed what was happening before the kisses rained down on him.

“…”

Was this just an illusion, or was it not?

Ever since that night, their relationship hadn’t changed much in essence. Yan Mei was still as clingy as ever, his emotions unpredictable, but he seemed to be launching surprise attacks more frequently than before.

It was as if something long suppressed had finally been unleashed all at once, with no more restraint in their already close distance.

He didn’t really mind.

But others might find it uncomfortable to watch—after all, this was a public space.

And besides, everyone was always watching Yan Mei.

Waiting for him to finish his sudden display of affection, Ye Jishu stepped aside and finally noticed that no one around them was looking in their direction—almost as if they hadn’t even perceived it.

“It’s fine, Jishu.”

“…”

“No matter how far I go, even if it’s on the bus, blocking their perception is easy. If you don’t believe me, we can test it out later? Even if you sit on my lap, no one will spare us a glance.”

[…]

[That won’t be necessary.]

Ye Jishu glanced at Yan Mei but didn’t see any further intention to speak.

He then turned around, about to head toward the registration area with the others, but suddenly, a force tugged at his wrist.

Ye Jishu turned back and looked at the person behind him.

“…?”

“No rush. We have free time until tomorrow morning.” Yan Mei stared into his eyes, his dark pupils almost like whirlpools that could pull someone in. “Jishu, you grew up here, right? Can you take me around?”

Ye Jishu didn’t say anything.

It was sudden.

Completely direct, with no roundabout approach.

He had already mentally prepared himself when he agreed to come, but he hadn’t expected the other to ask outright instead of waiting for the right moment like before.

[This isn’t Yan Mei’s usual style at all.]

“I did think about being indirect… but I can’t hold back anymore.”

Yan Mei lowered his gaze, still holding onto Ye Jishu’s fingers, his grip tightening. “I’ve been suppressing it for a long time. Maybe you haven’t noticed at all. But… I want to hear everything from you, personally. Everything about your past.”

That kind of greedy desire kept growing.

Even though at first, just a little was enough, the more he indulged, the more he wanted.

Because he didn’t know. Because he wasn’t aware of Ye Jishu’s past.

So, from those subtle reactions, he couldn’t help but wonder—

Was there something he hadn’t been told?

Has something been hidden from him?

Had Ye Jishu had other choices before?

In that time, in that place he had never seen—was there someone more important than him?

“Everything… about me?” Ye Jishu repeated.

The sunlight was glaring.

Yan Mei stared at the seemingly oblivious person in front of him.

His restless heart stirred, a wave of uncontainable frustration rising in his chest.

Why wasn’t he answering?

Under his persistent gaze, the other had only said that single sentence before falling into silence, as if deep in thought.

[I don’t like this.]

[I hate this possibility.]

Jishu was still hiding something in his heart.

Yan Mei’s fingers twitched slightly.

What was Jishu thinking right now?

If only he could know everything about him. Was there a way to find out? But Jishu’s physique was very special, so he couldn’t use conventional methods to investigate. What should he do? What should he do?

But in the beginning, he didn’t want someone who was wholeheartedly his; he just needed the other person to stay by his side. So, after all, he should just do what he did before—make sure Jishu only stayed with him.

Just as Yan Mei’s thoughts were about to slip into an extremely dangerous place, the person in front of him suddenly spoke.

“I tried, but I really can’t remember. If you ask me now… if there’s anything I care about… it feels like there isn’t.”

It was just going to school, attending classes.

Then coming home, doing homework, sleeping, and repeating the same cycle again.

Before going to university, his days were just a simple routine, nothing special at all.

He didn’t know why Yan Mei thought there was something unusual about him.

It really was just an ordinary, unremarkable life.

A straight, monotonous path—except for occasionally switching places to go home, there was nothing else worth mentioning.

Yan Mei’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted.

He lifted his head abruptly. The other person’s expression carried a hint of distress and was clearly puzzled.

[He’s not lying.]

“……”

Yan Mei asked, “Then why did you act like that before?”

“Because Shenchuan County has bad internet, and the signal is weak.”

Although most places had already modernized, people here still seemed to prefer an older way of life. Even a guesthouse labeled as a three-star hotel had network issues, lagging worse than a campus network.

Seeing Yan Mei’s expression, Ye Jishu took out his phone from his coat pocket and handed it to him.

The screen displayed only one signal bar.

And despite being on a 4G network, it had already dropped to 2G.

Ye Jishu sighed. “Can’t do anything about it. Why did we have to come here for field research…”

[This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jishu sigh.]

[But it turns out it was because of this.]

“……” Yan Mei.

This feeling was hard to describe.

Especially when the truth was so vastly different from what he had imagined.

Yan Mei slowly lowered his head, staring at the phone screen.

Then, he fell into a strange silence.

For a brief moment, a strong sense of relief that nothing special had happened intertwined with an almost absurd jealousy—“Is a game really that important?”—and possessiveness. These emotions clashed and tormented his heart.

No wonder he had spoken with such a resigned tone when agreeing to come along…

Hmm. But—

In a way, didn’t that mean he had, for a short moment, won against the game?

[Because Jishu agreed to come with me.]

A wave of sweetness filled his chest.

The shadows that had clouded his mind since making the request vanished.

While Ye Jishu was still hesitating about how to prove himself, he suddenly saw the person in front of him visibly cheer up.

“……”

[He’s really easy to cheer up, Yan Mei.]

Then, the other person leaned in, gently rubbing against his neck.

“It wasn’t chosen on purpose. It’s just that this time’s fieldwork happened to involve Shenchuan County.” Feeling the person beside him remain still, Yan Mei let out a small laugh, his tone carrying a hint of casualness. “They say there’s a mysterious stone here that can grant any wish… a rather boring thing.”

Folklore studies often involved local customs and tales, most of which were passed down orally. The reason why the folklore department chose Shenchuan County this time was because “a stone that can grant any wish” had always held an irresistible appeal to people.

But—

It sounded ridiculous.

If not for the need to blend in [normally] with the group, he would never have come to a place like this.

The other students, however, were quite excited about the stone’s existence.

“I know where it is.”

A monotonous voice came from above.

Yan Mei sensed something.

He stopped moving.

He lifted his head from the warmth of the other’s neck, looking toward the source of the voice.

However, Ye Jishu’s expression showed no signs of joking.

With an unusually calm demeanor—like he was simply commenting on the nice weather—he said something that would shock the others if they heard it.

“If it’s the stone you just mentioned, I know where it is. Do you want to see it? I can take you there right now.”

[Jishu is someone without desires.]

[But why, when mentioning the stone, did he speak so smoothly—]

[As if… he had once sought it out before.]

A sudden, indescribable emotion surged violently within Yan Mei’s chest.

Someone who never wanted anything—

Had he once had a wish so strong that he sought out the stone himself?

What could it be?