My Boyfriend is the Heartthrob, and I'm Just a Passerby. - Chapter 13

“Boom——”

A tremor-inducing roar echoed from the sky.

A frightening flash of lightning illuminated the corridor outside the transparent blue glass window, causing the overhead lights to flicker.

Not far from Ye Jishu stood three others, who, after performing seemingly ordinary actions, now behaved strangely and unnaturally.

Lin Lin was speaking to the other two, but from behind, neither their conversation nor their expressions could be discerned. The occasional low buzzing of their voices intertwined with the oppressive dark clouds above. Meanwhile, the two being addressed occasionally lifted their heads to glance at him quickly, only to hurriedly avert their gazes again.

Ye Jishu’s hand, hanging loosely by his side, twitched slightly.
Since earlier…

What are they doing?

This scene felt exactly like a small clique secretly badmouthing him behind his back. Even though he didn’t initially care about others’ opinions, this kind of behavior, combined with the oppressive environment and a sense of disconnection from everything around him, stirred an inexplicable agitation within.

What are they doing?

Why are they acting as if he’s missed something?

Dark clouds pressed heavily outside the window.

The situation before him struck his temples with force.

Just as all the bad emotions converged, about to reach their peak
“Ding-ling.”

The fabric of his coat pocket suddenly vibrated.

Ye Jishu froze.

He blinked.

His thoughts were abruptly dragged back to reality.

He exhaled subtly, took out the vibrating phone, and lowered his head, his eyes unintentionally landing on the lit screen.

However—

At the top of the screen was an incoming call.

Below that was a chilling cluster of unread message notifications marked by red dots.

The phone icon indicated 7 missed calls, and the WeChat notifications, automatically displayed due to the screen lighting up, covered the screen—at least 20 unread messages.

As if to pile on the pressure, the incoming call disappeared just as quickly as Ye Jishu noticed it—the other party hung up almost immediately.

What is… going on?

A deep unease gripped him, making his rarely-used facial muscles twitch slightly.

It took Ye Jishu a moment to regain his composure, unlock his phone, and scroll through the unread messages from the top.

All the messages.

Every single one was from the same person.

—Yan Mei.

“…” Ye Jishu.

22:00
[Jishu, I’ve already arrived at the dorm.]

22:04
[Did you get back? Let me know when you do.]

22:20
[It looks like it’s going to rain soon. I remember you didn’t bring an umbrella. If it rains, wait at the nearest building or shelter, and I’ll come get you. Don’t walk back in the rain like last time—you’ll catch a cold.]

22:40
[Are you busy?]

[Missed Call]

23:00
[Are you gaming?]

[If so, I won’t disturb you. Have fun. It’s okay if you don’t reply.]

23:30
[Is gaming really that fun, Jishu? At least reply to me once.]

[Missed Call]

23:35
[Why aren’t you answering?]

…

[Did you run into someone? Or is there something annoying clinging to you while I’m not around? I know you hate trouble. Do you need me to come to you? I’ll help you deal with anything. I’m worried about you—so much it’s killing me.]

23:40
[What’s going on? Are you trying to ghost me and break up, Jishu?]

23:45
[Did I do something wrong?]

[Missed Call]

23:46
[You promised me.]

[Missed Call]

[Missed Call]

23:50
[Did someone tell you something…? Don’t. Please don’t.]

[Don’t, don’t.]

…

Taking a deep breath.

There were simply too many messages to read.

The dense flood of information overwhelmed his vision, making it impossible to process everything in a short time. But the longer he delayed, the worse things would get. Yan Mei would undoubtedly grow even angrier.

Ye Jishu scrolled directly to the most recent message.

It was just one line.

24:00
[I won’t let anyone destroy this.]

“…” Ye Jishu.

An alarm blared in his mind.

No, this is bad—very bad.

Even the dullest person would flinch at such a barrage of missed calls and messages, feeling an overwhelming sense of unease. Especially now, with that final message… Ye Jishu found himself staring intently at the screen, unable to look away.

Why hadn’t he seen the messages earlier?

Was it because he had opened the game and blocked notifications?
But now it wasn’t just about answering the phone—it was about what had gone through Yan Mei’s mind during this hour.

How had things escalated from “no response” to “breaking up”?

Yan Mei seemed angry again.

Of course, he probably had a right to be.

No matter how he tried, it seemed he could never satisfy Yan Mei.

Still, even as a nominal boyfriend, he should do something to make amends, right?

“What… is this?”

Suddenly, a voice filled with surprise came from beside him.

Hearing this, Ye Jishu lifted his head.

—It was Lin Lin.

Lin Lin, after much mental preparation, cautiously approached Ye Jishu. Just as he was about to speak, his peripheral vision was inadvertently drawn to the screen.

He didn’t mean to snoop.

It was just that the sheer number of message notifications made it impossible to ignore.

For a moment, his mind froze. “…”

No, is this… normal?

[This relationship seems so intense.]

[From the timestamps, it looks like only an hour of no response—but is this really necessary?]

A strange expression involuntarily appeared on his face.

Ye Jishu stared at him and suddenly said, “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Um, uh.”

Realizing he had violated the other person’s privacy, Lin Lin awkwardly apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… It’s a habit from work—I subconsciously gather information around me.”

However, Ye Jishu didn’t seem to care about that. He simply fixed his gaze on Lin Lin’s face.

“Silent treatment is my fault. It’s not Yan Mei’s.”

“…”

“Don’t think badly of him.”

Lin Lin: “…”

[Their relationship must be strong enough for him to respond so nonchalantly, but wait, what was Ye Jishu doing at the time? Wasn’t he talking to me? Does that make me the scapegoat for their argument?]

“…”

Lin Lin shivered slightly.

He wasn’t sure why, but a chill ran down his spine.

Ignoring the stiffness in the person beside him, Ye Jishu had already pocketed his phone. “Are you done talking?”

Hearing this, Lin Lin’s expression shifted drastically.

He quickly pulled himself together, shaking off unnecessary thoughts and refocusing on work.

Ah—how could he let his mind wander during work?

Perhaps it was because tonight’s events had been too overwhelming, repeatedly shattering his existing understanding of reality.

“Yes.” Lin Lin shook his head, suppressed the strangeness in his heart, and said, “Then we’ll go first. There are still some things to do.”

Although the word “we” was used, the context clearly excluded Ye Jishu.

[You weren’t invited.]

For Ye Jishu, this was a feeling he’d grown accustomed to.

Even if they did invite him, he wouldn’t have gone. He had more important things to deal with.

Quietly, Ye Jishu watched as the girl and Yan Mei’s heartbroken pursuers left in defeat. He raised a hand to bid a brief goodbye to the hesitant Lin Lin before uninterestedly redirecting his gaze to his phone, which he had tucked back into his coat pocket.

…This situation… How should I salvage it?

–

The suffocating tension in the air seemed to ease, and Lin finally stepped out of the dormitory.

And away from the enigmatic presence of Ye Jishu.

Lin Lin’s fingers trembled faintly, hidden in the shadows of the night. He had to summon considerable self-control to keep his composed mask from slipping earlier.

After all, the infected girl and Bo Zhehan had both been scrutinizing his every move, their unease palpable. If Lin Lin had shown even the slightest sign of panic while dealing with Ye Jishu, the situation could have spiraled into chaos.

He exhaled deeply.

This was unlike anything he had encountered before.

[Think positively], he told himself.

At least the arrangements for the affected individuals were settled.
The infected girl must be taken to the nearest containment facility for observation.

As for the other witness—
He’d also be taken back, but it was more of a standard procedure. A seven-day quarantine to monitor for potential secondary infection. Once cleared, his memory would be processed.

In this world, or at least among humans, there were no innate abilities capable of altering someone’s memories at will.

Thus, to prevent the spread of panic regarding the existence of the [Source of Infection], the authorities would need to rely on the Bureau’s protocols: intimidation, persuasion, and perhaps a touch of hypnotic therapy. This would be enough to erase the witnesses’ trauma while ensuring no details about the [Source of Infection] leaked into society.

Though Lin Lin often wished for abilities like those depicted in comics—where Bureau agents possessed some kind of innate powers—the reality was far less dramatic. Bureau personnel were essentially normal humans with better physical conditioning and access to specialized weaponry.

Lin Lin glanced at his phone, double-checking the time.

[It’s been half an hour. He should have arrived by now.]

Just as a fresh wave of anxiety began to rise, a car emerged from the darkness and silently stopped in front of him.

The window rolled down, revealing a face etched with fatigue and irritation.

Despite the late hour, the man inside wore sunglasses that concealed most of his face.

“This place is a prestigious school, isn’t it? I should’ve studied harder for my college entrance exams. Maybe then I could’ve landed a cushy office job instead of this godforsaken gig, working overtime at midnight for free.”

Lin Lin glared at him. “You’re late.”

The man dismissed him with an annoyed tsk. “Get in.”

Moments later, Bo Zhehan and the girl timidly climbed into the car.

As the vehicle sped into the night, Bo Zhehan glanced cautiously at the girl in the passenger seat. Confirming that Lin Lin sat beside him—a reassuring presence—he finally asked, “What exactly was that earlier? Was it really… one of those?”

He avoided saying the word monster.

“It was,” the man in sunglasses replied bluntly.

“…”

Hearing this, Bo Zhehan’s face turned ashen.

“I… I shouldn’t have come back. That dorm already had a reputation for being haunted after someone died there. And it’s always been just Ye Jishu living there alone… Why did I think coming back tonight was a good idea?”

He buried his face in his hands, muttering despairingly.

Lin Lin hesitated but tried to reassure him, “He’s just a student.”

“So what? He’s still part of this mess.”

The man in sunglasses snorted, his tone cold and indifferent.

Lin Lin felt a chill. Once again, he was reminded of how detached this man was.

Even though Ye Jishu might now be in significant danger, this man had pulled Lin Lin away to report back to headquarters, leaving Ye Jishu alone in the dorm.

Each zone typically had two top-tier enforcement agents stationed.

Rumor had it that this man’s long-time partner had once been in a similar situation, at risk of infection. To save himself, the man had mercilessly eliminated his still-conscious partner, later brushing off the incident as a “task accident” in a memo.

The sunglasses weren’t just for show.

They were a weapon, designed to kill humans and infection sources alike. It was said that merely making eye contact through the lenses could instantly dissolve flesh and bone.

Up front, the man in sunglasses glanced at the girl in the passenger seat.

“How did you recover? Do you remember anything?”

“I… I don’t remember,” she stammered.

“You?” he asked, turning to Bo Zhehan.

“I… don’t know either…” His voice was shaky.

“Hmm. Not surprising,” the man said. “Lin Lin, you were on the scene. Did you notice anything unusual?”

Caught off guard, Lin Lin hesitated.

The matter concerning Ye Jishu…

It was still just his personal speculation.

If he were honest, he wasn’t entirely convinced even in hindsight.

Every interaction with Ye Jishu seemed normal. There was no hint of menace—just an ordinary college student trying to navigate a complicated relationship.

Sure, he wasn’t particularly expressive.

But unexpectedly easy to get along with.

If he reported his suspicions now, Ye Jishu would undoubtedly be eliminated.

Just like that “potentially risky” partner from before.

Even if he had doubts, it was better to observe for a while before making a definitive judgment.

As long as [Source of Infection 3301], Chen Heming was still active, Lin Lin would continue monitoring the university area after submitting his report. Since this infection source’s target was [Ye Jishu], he could justify staying close to observe without neglecting his mission.

He would do it.

Until the final decision was made.

“…I didn’t notice anything,” Lin Lin finally said.

“Oh,” the man in sunglasses replied, bored. “Then you’re completely useless. Guess we’ll have to check at the containment facility.”

Lin Lin ignored him.

His hand slid into his pocket, tightly gripping the jagged necklace within. The sharp edges dug into his palm, leaving a sting that anchored his resolve.

[I’m not like this guy with the sunglasses.]

[If something goes wrong… I’ll take full responsibility for my concealment. I won’t abuse the authority to eradicate an infection.]

Determined, Lin Lin raised his head and gazed out the window.

The next moment—

BOOM!

A loud clap of thunder shook the car, the surrounding area, and their entire field of vision.

“Damn,” the man in sunglasses muttered. “It’s raining.”

But Lin Lin didn’t care. His attention was entirely captured by the scene outside.

A violet-blue flash of lightning tore apart the dense darkness, illuminating the narrow street and the figure standing silently beneath a streetlamp.

He seemed almost one with the shadows.

But his strikingly beautiful face was so breathtaking that a single glance was enough to render Lin Lin speechless, his breath caught in his throat.

Expressionless, the figure looked directly at Lin Lin.

In just one second, Lin Lin’s rationality shattered, his pupils trembling deeply in shock.

Caught in such a gaze, his heart clenched, and his limbs recoiled involuntarily. His mind went blank.

He opened his mouth silently, crumbling, as though confessing his sins to someone unknown.

“I didn’t… I didn’t say anything.”

The shadow withdrew its gaze.

The suffocating heat that had enveloped the car seemed to dissipate.
The sound of rain filled the air, brushing incessantly against his ear.

The car quickly drove past that stretch of road.

The long, deathly still breath he had held in felt like an eternity, though it had only lasted a few seconds.

Finally able to breathe again, Lin Lin jerked his gaze away, lowering his head to look at his knees. His fingers, resting on them, were still trembling uncontrollably.

A dazed expression flickered in his eyes.

“…”

Huh…? What was he doing?

Why had he said those words just now? It was just someone with a good-looking face, staring at him… right?

Indeed.

Concealing the truth in front of a Level-One Enforcement Officer proved to be an extraordinary psychological burden.

His fingers curled against his knees.

But the chill that had risen from deep within remained lodged in his spine, like the persistent tapping of rain on the car windows.

It was almost like he had survived a life-or-death ordeal.