Who Is He Tutoring?

Her slanted bangs fell across her face, fragmenting her view ahead.

Yun Jiumo gripped the textbook, her eyes still and lifeless as a dead sea.

Even back at her seat, her thoughts clung to their earlier exchange. She’d casually slipped in a question—and successfully coaxed the truth from him.

He was tutoring someone else too?

Who? She’d never seen anyone.

Most of her interactions with Mo Xuan happened at school. From freshman year to now, she’d rarely seen anyone approach him with questions.

Yang Jie used to stop by back in sophomore year. But now, in senior year, everyone was buried in their own studies. Time was too precious to spare for others.

That’s why teachers urged students to visit the faculty office—never to waste top students’ time.

But Yun Jiumo cared for none of that. Only one question burned in her mind: Who was Mo Xuan tutoring?

His evasive manner screamed suspicion. Or worse—he was hiding it from her on purpose.

Her fingers tightened around the book, nails pressing faint crescents into the pages.

A sharp wave of irritation surged in her chest, shattering her calm.

Who was it? A boy? Or a girl?

Almost certainly a girl. He’d hide it if it were a girl. A boy? He’d admit it freely. But a girl… who?

Instinctively, Yun Jiumo recalled the girl with the high ponytail.

After that day, she’d sent someone to investigate. The girl from Class Six was Shen Bingjing. She lived with her older sister, Shen Bingyao—paralyzed, studying at home. They shared a century-old courtyard house in the old town, relying only on each other.

They’d known Mo Xuan since freshman year. Not constantly in touch, but on good terms. Especially Shen Bingjing—Mo Xuan often ran into her at school. Every meeting ended in laughter and playful banter. As a woman, Yun Jiumo’s intuition prickled: this mattered.

Both sisters were seniors at Qingyuan High. Studying together wasn’t impossible.

But their home lay far from Mo Xuan’s. And Shen Bingyao, confined to a wheelchair, needed constant care. Shen Bingjing spent most days at home. How could she reach the municipal library? It was too distant.

If Shen Bingjing abandoned her sister to meet Mo Xuan? Unlikely. Mo Xuan would never allow it. More probable—he visited them. Not the library on weekends.

Yun Jiumo calmed slightly, but vigilance remained.

If not them… perhaps his neighbor.

Tian Sirui. A senior at Rende High.

Her family had lived nearby since Mo Xuan moved in. Parents working out of town. Only she and her younger brother remained—but their relationship was strained.

As neighbors, encounters were inevitable. Mo Xuan, ever easygoing, would greet them or offer help. Tian Sirui, reports said, was shy and withdrawn. At school, she kept a low profile. A true homebody—only leaving for errands on weekends.

Their contact would be limited, yet still more frequent than with Shen Bingjing. And attending Rende High—a school with weaker academics—it made sense she’d seek Mo Xuan’s help.

Could it be her?

Yun Jiumo’s gaze deepened. Her crimson lips pressed tight. A faint twitch flickered along her jaw.

No. Guessing proved nothing. She had to see. Mo Xuan likely hadn’t left. Finding him would reveal if another seat, another cup, another trace remained.

Silently, she rose. She glided between shelves like a ghost.

She knew this library intimately—many books donated by her family.

Mo Xuan thought hiding here would fool her. He didn’t know she knew every shadowed corner. She knew exactly where to vanish someone—undetected for weeks.

Imagining Mo Xuan beside an unknown girl, shoulders nearly touching as they studied… Yun Jiumo’s cheeks flushed. Her pulse quickened. Breath grew shallow. Even her smile turned eerie, sinister.

This feeling… exquisite.

So thrilling!

She ached to witness their faces—the shock of being caught, like a wife confronting her husband’s affair. Her hands trembled. Manicured nails gleamed sharp.

She drifted past study tables like a breeze, her indifferent gaze sweeping over faces.

Heads turned. Whispers rippled. Students stared, stunned by a girl even more breathtaking than the one in the dress earlier.

Yun Jiumo didn’t glance back. They vanished from her mind the moment she passed.

No man except Mo Xuan held her interest. None deserved a second thought.

She circled the floor slowly. Just as she considered heading upstairs, her eyes caught movement. She froze.

In a secluded corner, Mo Xuan sat upright on a sofa, head bent over a book, scribbling notes on scratch paper—utterly absorbed.

Alone.

No second textbook. No stray belongings. Only one water cup. Every detail confirmed solitude.

Yun Jiumo halted behind a bookshelf, watching silently.

After a long moment, she turned and retraced her steps.

Only after settling back into her chair did her breathing steady.

He was alone?

Could his companion have left abruptly? But minutes had passed since they parted. Too quick for a sudden departure.

Or… was she overthinking?

Rarely, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.

Footsteps approached softly from behind.

She spun around. A clean-faced, unfamiliar boy—clearly a student.

“Classmate… can I add you on WeChat?” He held up his phone, voice shy, smile nervous.

He’d noticed her the moment she entered. Never seen anyone so beautiful.

Her ink-black hair flowed like liquid silk. Skin porcelain-smooth, glowing faintly. Her figure curved gracefully—chest full like ripe peaches. But most captivating: legs sheathed in black stockings, every line from thigh to slender ankle flawless.

Half-egged on by friends, half-driven by fantasy, he’d mustered every ounce of courage.

Yun Jiumo’s rose-red eyes scanned him head to toe. Silent. Ice-cold. Unblinking.

Then—a thin smile. Teeth gleaming, sharp and white.

Cold sweat drenched the boy. Without a word, he scrambled away.

Terrifying!

For a heartbeat, he’d felt she might end him.

Fear crushed desire. He nearly bolted from the library.

Yun Jiumo’s gaze cooled with disgust.

How dare any Tom, Dick, or Harry approach her? Didn’t he know his place? Hunting girls in a library—so desperate?

Ruined by that creep, Yun Jiumo lost all will to study.

If anything, his intrusion deepened her longing for Mo Xuan.

She remembered him walking the hall in uniform, sunlight catching his bright smile, eyes sparkling.

She remembered him sinking half-court shots, leaping for powerful dunks, the crowd roaring.

She remembered him focused in class—thick lashes casting shadows, gaze unwavering, utterly absorbed. Every memory intoxicated her.

All recollections of him were pure, clean, beautiful. How wonderful to have such a boy nearby.

She lowered her head, releasing a soft, low moan.