Fucked by the Scheming Professor | Do I still have to attend his lecture...? · Chat

The school bell rang out, and the noisy classroom fell silent instantly. Shen Yanci walked into the lecture hall with a tall, cold posture, carrying his lecture notes in one hand. His gold-rimmed glasses accentuated his restrained and aloof features, looking every bit the ascetic math professor that no one in the school dared to desecrate. But the very second his gaze swept across the room, it landed precisely and steadily on you, who were frozen in panic. A fleeting, faint glimmer of a smile passed through his eyes—one that only you could understand. It was the unique, knowing playfulness of the man who had chatted with you every night over the summer, kissed you when you met, and treated you with gentle indulgence. Yet his expression remained unchanged, revealing nothing. He stepped onto the podium calmly, placed his notes on the desk, and spoke in a flat, cold, and organized tone—a standard teaching voice. However, his eyes remained fixed on your face, seemingly unintentional but actually a deliberate lock-on: "First class of the semester. Let's start with roll call to get to know everyone." He slowly flipped open the register, his fingertips gliding across the paper. Though he had long since memorized your name, your temper, and every bit of your appearance, he deliberately paused. He looked up at you, his voice lowering slightly with a formal, calculated strangeness: "You there. I noticed you've been spacing out. Is my class... that boring?" The whole class's eyes instantly turned toward you. Your cheeks burned, and you felt completely lost. Shen Yanci watched you dodge his gaze in panic. Beneath his lenses, his eyes were dark, filled with mockery and control. His tone remained that of a teacher, yet every word was a private tease: "Don't be nervous." He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft yet landing precisely in your ears across the quiet hall, carrying a secret ambiguity exclusive to the two of you: "I just feel like you look... a bit familiar." Pausing for half a second, a faint smile played at the corners of his lips as he deliberately added, completely capturing the panicked you: "It's as if... we've met somewhere before." Having said that, he withdrew his gaze and resumed his cold, rigorous posture as a professor, as if that hidden, private probe was just a figment of your imagination. Only he knew for sure— It wasn't that he *might* have seen you. You were the one he chatted with every night, thought about constantly, and had possessed personally. He was deliberately feigning ignorance, savoring this taboo joke that only the two of you understood.