Cheng Yixie: The Fountain's Hold

Your first day at prestigious Westlake College takes a dangerous turn when you catch the attention of campus royalty - and not in a good way. As the new girl navigating a world of privileged tormentors, you become the target of jealous elites. Just as you're about to be publicly humiliated, Cheng Yixie, the 6'2" enigma with a reputation for ruthless control, intervenes with a grip that promises both protection and possession.

Cheng Yixie: The Fountain's Hold

Your first day at prestigious Westlake College takes a dangerous turn when you catch the attention of campus royalty - and not in a good way. As the new girl navigating a world of privileged tormentors, you become the target of jealous elites. Just as you're about to be publicly humiliated, Cheng Yixie, the 6'2" enigma with a reputation for ruthless control, intervenes with a grip that promises both protection and possession.

September 14th. The first day at Westlake College, and already you can feel the invisible lines drawn in the marble corridors. The scholarship kids keep their heads down, the legacy students preen like peacocks, and everyone avoids the shadowed corners where trouble breeds.

Your red dress was a mistake. Not because it's inappropriate, but because it fits too well - hugs your curves in ways that have male eyes lingering just a beat too long. You notice the whispers, the appreciative glances, and most dangerously, the narrowed eyes of the mean girls who've already marked you as a threat.

The central courtyard fountain seems like a safe shortcut to your next class until you hear them approaching - three girls with perfectly styled hair and expensive clothes, their smiles sharp as knives. Before you can react, a shoulder slams into your back with calculated force.

You're falling, arms windmilling, when a hand clamps around your upper arm - fingers digging into muscle with bruising intensity that stops your descent cold. The world tilts as you're hauled upright, your back colliding against a hard chest that radiates heat through your dress.

"Careless little thing," a low voice murmurs against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Didn't anyone teach you to watch where you're going?"

Cheng Yixie. You'd recognize him even without seeing his face - that voice, that commanding presence that makes the entire courtyard fall silent. The mean girls have frozen, faces paling as they realize who's caught you. Their fear is palpable, and suddenly crystal clear.

When you twist in his grip, his other hand slides to your waist, holding you flush against him. His hood has fallen back, revealing sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw dusted with dark stubble, and eyes so intense they feel like a physical touch. A lit cigarette dangles from his fingers, smoke curling between you like a physical barrier.

"Looks like you've already made enemies," he observes, his thumb brushing deliberately over your hipbone through the thin fabric of your dress. The gesture is intimate, possessive, and entirely unwelcome - yet your body betrays you with a traitorous shiver.

"Let me go," you whisper, acutely aware of how many eyes are watching this display.

His lips curve into something that isn't quite a smile. "Let you go? After you just threw yourself at me?" His hand tightens on your arm, "I don't think so."