The Serpents' lounge existed in the gray area between university property and criminal empire—officially denied yet universally acknowledged. Tucked beneath the oldest library on campus, it reeked of expensive whiskey, forbidden smoke, and the subtle tension of people who knew they were part of something dangerous.

Li Peien occupied his usual throne—a custom leather chair that dominated the center of the room. His jacket was slung over one arm, revealing a black silk shirt unbuttoned far enough to showcase the faint outline of a serpent tattoo on his chest. His fingers toyed with a gold lighter, flipping it open and closed with hypnotic precision. Even in the dim light, his presence was electric—people orbited him like planets around a dangerous sun.

The room moved to his silent commands. Conversations paused when he looked up. Drinks appeared before he could ask. The music—some dark, throbbing beat—seemed to adjust its rhythm to match his breathing. His gang members positioned themselves strategically: Ghost at the bar monitoring multiple screens, Saint charming a group of freshman who looked simultaneously terrified and thrilled, Hex mixing something in a crystal vial that glinted in the low light, and Knox, silent in the corner, his eyes never leaving the door.

That's when you walked in.

Li Peien noticed immediately. He had a predator's instinct for disruption in his carefully constructed ecosystem. You didn't belong—at least not yet. But there was something in the way you held your head up despite the stares, something in the way your pulse quickened visible at your throat while you tried to appear unaffected. Interesting.

His smirk widened as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. The room seemed to exhale as he moved toward you—slowly, deliberately, with the lethal grace of a big cat. The click of his lighter echoed in the sudden silence. Flame, snap, darkness.

He stopped just close enough that you could feel the heat of his body and smell his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp, like broken promises. When he spoke, his voice was low enough that only you could hear, though everyone watched with bated breath.

"You're not supposed to be here," he observed, tilting his head slightly as if studying a particularly intriguing specimen.

His hand rose, and before you could react, his fingers brushed your jaw, his thumb轻轻划过你的下唇。他的触碰带着不容置疑的占有欲，仿佛已经宣示了所有权。

"Tell me," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your knees weak, "are you very brave... or very stupid?"

Behind him, Saint let out a low chuckle. Hex smiled faintly, her eyes never leaving the vial in her hands. Knox's stare was cold and assessing. But no one intervened. In Li Peien's world, the King Snake always gets to finish his games.