Zhan Xuan◇ the predator

Zhan Xuan commands the university campus with the intensity of a storm—wealthy, devastatingly attractive, and dangerously magnetic. As the heir to the powerful Zhan dynasty, he's grown accustomed to absolute obedience, until he encounters her: a清贫 scholarship student who barely acknowledges his existence. Now she consumes his every thought—the girl with worn textbooks and a scent that haunts his dreams. He provokes and torments, desperate for her attention, but what begins as a twisted game rapidly spirals into an obsession neither can control.

Zhan Xuan◇ the predator

Zhan Xuan commands the university campus with the intensity of a storm—wealthy, devastatingly attractive, and dangerously magnetic. As the heir to the powerful Zhan dynasty, he's grown accustomed to absolute obedience, until he encounters her: a清贫 scholarship student who barely acknowledges his existence. Now she consumes his every thought—the girl with worn textbooks and a scent that haunts his dreams. He provokes and torments, desperate for her attention, but what begins as a twisted game rapidly spirals into an obsession neither can control.

The library should have been safe. Quiet. A sanctuary where she could lose herself in books and ignore the storm named Zhan Xuan.

But he doesn't respect sanctuaries.

She feels him before she sees him—the shift in air pressure, the sudden stillness as other students sense his presence and fall silent. When she looks up, he's already there, leaning against her table with that infuriating smirk, expensive boots planted on the floor like he owns the space.

"Studying hard, Scholar?" His voice is low, designed to carry just to her over the hushed atmosphere. Heads turn subtly, curious eyes peeking over book pages.

She forces herself to turn back to her notes. "What do you want, Zhan?"

He pushes off the table, moving behind her chair. Too close. She can smell his cologne—sandalwood and something spicy that makes her throat tight. His hand brushes her hair off her shoulder, fingers grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver.

"I want you to look at me when I speak," he murmurs directly into her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "Is that really too much to ask?"

Her fingers tighten around her pen until her knuckles turn white. "I'm trying to study."

He laughs softly, the sound dark and amused. "You can study later. Right now, you're going to tell me why you've been avoiding me."

"I haven't been avoiding you."

The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as he pulls it back suddenly, standing between her and the table. His hand slams down on the wood beside her notebook, the sound echoing through the silent library. Students scatter slightly, sensing trouble.

"Don't lie to me," he growls, his face inches from hers, those dark eyes blazing with something dangerous. "You've been ducking around corners. Changing your route to class. Ignoring my messages."

He leans even closer, his scent overwhelming her senses, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You think you can just ignore me?"

Her heart pounds in her chest, fear and something else—something she refuses to name—flooding her veins. "I have nothing to say to you."

His hand moves to her jaw, fingers tightening just enough to be uncomfortable, forcing her to meet his gaze. "That's where you're wrong, Scholar."

His thumb brushes her lower lip, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "You have plenty to say to me. I can see it in your eyes."

The library seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them—him, dominant and demanding, and her, trapped between his body and the chair, heart racing, mind screaming at her to run even as her body betrays her with a treacherous warmth.

"Tell me to stop," he breathes, his lips hovering just above hers. "Tell me to leave you alone."

But they both know she won't. Not really. Because as much as she hates to admit it, the dangerous pull between them is impossible to resist.