Like a Gentle Breeze, the Seed Sprouting in the Heart of the Eastern Young Lady

According to Ye Cheng's expectations, after being kissed by him, the student council president should have angrily slapped him and declared that he would pay for this. That's how it always plays out in TV dramas—it couldn't possibly end with the president outright killing him on the spot, right?

Gulp.

Ye Cheng swallowed hard, shrinking back timidly—one small step, then another, and another, and another…

"Darling, do you think you’ll die today?" Dongfang Zhixia's "gentle" voice sent a shiver down his spine. His legs turned to jelly, and he dropped to his knees, ready to play the victim. He even had his pitiful lines prepared:

Waaah, President, all the blame is on you—ahem, I mean, on me! I’m just an ordinary guy who doesn’t understand all the complicated games you rich girls play!

I’m just a simple country boy, and I really thought you meant for me to kiss you! I—

Before he could fully launch into his act, Dongfang Zhixia saw through his trembling legs and cut him off mid-performance. She pressed a hand against his chest, pushing harder and harder—

BANG!

Ye Cheng slammed into the cafeteria serving window, with Dongfang Zhixia practically pinning him down, half her body pressing against him.

"Darling, I suggest you answer my question properly. Otherwise… something unfortunate might happen. Don’t you think?"

Her face was still adorned with that "gentle" smile, but Ye Cheng nodded frantically, signaling he got the message.

Gulp.

"I-I don’t think I’ll die young… at least not today," he stammered.

Dongfang Zhixia’s grin grew even more "kind," though to Ye Cheng, it looked more terrifying—like the grin of a Japanese hannya demon.

"Darling, care to explain why you think you’ll live? Because from where I’m standing, you seem to have a death wish."

Thump-thump-thump…

Ye Cheng’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap straight onto the "gentle" president’s face. This woman is serious!

His survival instincts kicked in. If he didn’t answer carefully, he might actually die here.

"W-well, you know what they say—good people die young, but troublemakers live forever. I figure I’ve got plenty of years left to… uh, entertain you, President! How about I go buy some candles and a little whip? I’ll skip going home tonight, and you can take your frustrations out on me!"

His words were so absurd they barely sounded human. Every word made sense individually, but strung together, they were incomprehensible.

Dongfang Zhixia stared at him, utterly bewildered. Candles? Whip? Take frustrations out on him? What the hell is he talking about?!

Her mind involuntarily conjured up some… unmentionable images, especially after what she’d witnessed through her binoculars last night in the boys' dorm. Combined with Ye Cheng’s nonsense, her brain replayed the scene in vivid detail.

Thump. Thump.

Now it was her heart racing. Her usual icy glare wavered, and a faint blush crept across her flawless face before vanishing just as quickly.

Suppressing all signs of fluster, she slid her hand down from his chest to his waist—then pinched hard.

"Darling, do you really think that excuse will save you?"

Her smile remained "gentle," but her voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

Ye Cheng played dumb, feigning innocence while expertly dodging the question.

"Well, I know my dear President isn’t some kind of demon. She’s kind-hearted, wise, all-powerful, breathtakingly beautiful… the epitome of grace! She’d never harm a fellow student—let alone her beloved!"

On the surface, it was praise. In reality, it was buttering her up while sneakily absolving himself of blame.

Ye Cheng’s silver tongue was in a league of its own—so far beyond human that it bordered on divine.

Dongfang Zhixia was rendered speechless. She wanted to slap him silly, but… that would make her look like the unreasonable one, tarnishing her dignity.

After all, she was the one who told him to kiss her—without specifying where. Misunderstandings happened.

Despite still being a student, Dongfang Zhixia had years of experience managing the Dongfang family’s affairs. She knew better than anyone that workplace "errors" like this were frustrating but unavoidable.

This mess was her fault for not being clear.

She’d swallow this loss—but what about her first kiss?!

"Darling," she said, shifting gears, "since you stole my first kiss, how do you plan to make it up to me?" Dwelling on it only made her angrier, so she cut her losses.

Ye Cheng blinked.

"First kiss? What a coincidence—mine too! Let’s call it even, no debts between us—I MEAN, I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for this sin and repaying you, President!"

He backpedaled at lightning speed—his kidney was this close to being crushed under Dongfang Zhixia’s twisting grip.

That said, the texture was unexpectedly nice.

Her hands-on approach also confirmed something: last night’s… observations were accurate.

This guy’s physique was real.

Even through his uniform, she could feel the well-defined ridges of his "shark muscles" along his ribs—soft when relaxed, but flexing under pressure with enough strength to push her fingers back.

No tricks, just raw stats.

Absurd stats.

And now, against her will, her brain replayed last night’s… peeping session.

Dongfang Zhixia’s ears, hidden beneath her flowing hair, turned slightly red and grew warm.

This idiot, how does he manage to keep such a good figure when all he does is eat all day?

Splat!

Then, the dear student council president thought of her little secretary—another bottomless pit who was either eating or on her way to eat, yet her body was entirely composed of "useless fat." Meanwhile, Ye Cheng...

Dongfang Zhixia fell silent.

Splat!

Frustrated, Dongfang Zhixia stomped hard on Ye Cheng’s foot, putting all her strength into it—once, twice, thrice.

Ye Cheng: "..."

Dongfang Zhixia snorted coldly, about to drag Ye Cheng somewhere private to settle the score, when she suddenly remembered there was still the matter of a certain mafia princess to deal with.

Originally, she had only meant to provoke Shen Qinghan, but Dongfang Zhixia had taken things too far and ended up infuriating herself instead. And Ye Cheng? He was like a piece of sticky candy, utterly unfazed by ordinary punishments.

Thinking back, Dongfang Zhixia recalled that the only reason she’d let that idiot kiss her earlier was to spite Shen Qinghan.

Her chest rose and fell as she slowly calmed herself, exhaling sharply before her gaze turned icy.

"Now, I’ll give you one more chance—kiss me on the cheek!"

She emphasized the word "cheek" sharply. Ye Cheng shook his head like a rattle drum, every fiber of his being screaming refusal.

"President, how about I buy you a couple more candles instead? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to scream loud enough—you’ll definitely enjoy it!"

Ye Cheng said this with absolute seriousness.

Dongfang Zhixia: "..."

Sometimes, she genuinely wondered if Ye Cheng was even human.

No human should be capable of saying such things—at least, they shouldn’t be. Why was it that Ye Cheng could spout the most shameless, outrageous words without a hint of embarrassment, all while keeping a straight face?

"Darling, I’ll say this one last time—kiss me. And hug me while you’re at it. Now. Immediately."

The smile on Dongfang Zhixia’s face grew increasingly dangerous, flickering like a mirage. Ye Cheng could almost swear he saw a terrifying oni with a grotesque hannya mask looming behind her, grinning at him.

Oh no. This feels like a heart attack.

Ye Cheng wasn’t stupid. He knew the president was only keeping her cool and letting him take liberties to spite Shen Qinghan, despite having suffered such a loss.

But right now, he had no choice. If he refused, he’d be minced meat no matter where he ran. If he obeyed, at least he’d keep his right to lie.

Later, he could rely on his absurd antics and the "art of language" to salvage the situation—maybe even win back the black-hearted mafia princess.

He didn’t dare glance at Shen Qinghan, afraid one look would shatter his resolve. Steeling himself, he pulled Dongfang Zhixia into an embrace, took a deep breath, and pressed a feather-light kiss to her soft cheek.

The moment his lips touched her skin, Dongfang Zhixia felt something flutter in her chest—light, fleeting, yet unforgettable.

What… was that just now?

It felt like something strange had brushed past her, vanishing before she could grasp it, slipping through her fingers like the wind.

No. She needed to do it again. What was that?

An inexplicable urge rose in Dongfang Zhixia’s heart, a voice in her mind whispering—do it again.