My Boyfriend is the Heartthrob, and I’m Just a Passerby.

Yan Mei first met Ye Jishu during the entrance ceremony.

Hearing his own name, he stood up from his seat, indifferently sweeping his gaze over the people around him.

As expected.

Everyone was staring at him without blinking.

[Again.]

So boring. So dull.

As long as he appeared, all eyes would be drawn to him—eyes filled with adoration so deep that they would be willing to die for him.

Like. Like. Love.

Lost in their own fantasies.

Imagining a future together with him.

These people, blindly captivated by their selfish love, were completely unaware of the sickening fervor gleaming in their own eyes.

It only took one glance to see the emotions hidden beneath the surface.

Greed, obsession.

A madness driven purely by self-interest.

And yet—

That kind of love, so intense it became nauseating, was precisely the reason for his existence.

Yan Mei was not human.

But neither was he a [Source of Infection].

In this dull world, humans possessed emotions of every kind, and it was because of these emotions that they gave birth to another species—one that tortured and slaughtered them.

The so-called [Source of Infection].

And at the root of all emotions, there was only one fundamental thing—

Love.

Humans were great because of love.

But they were also despicable because of it.

A person might be incapable of anything, yet they still had the right to love.

Unfulfilled love, love turning to hatred, pure affection, or the scorching heat of familial love, friendship, and romance. Love carried an overwhelming intensity, enough to distort even the most normal emotions.

Even non-human creatures possessed incomprehensible depths of emotion.

Filthy desires entangled together.

This collective, unconscious force, even infecting the mutated [Source of Infection], had cursed this once-normal world.

A vast conceptual existence that encompassed all living things, beyond the reach of any regulatory agency—unimaginable, unstoppable.

It lurked in every moment of ordinary life, reigning supreme over all beings with consciousness, an overwhelming force that dominated the abnormal.

Yan Mei was the very source of that twisted curse.

Because of this, those sickening feelings of love and obsession would always exist wherever he appeared.

[My feelings must reach you…]

[I like you, I really like you, Yan Mei.]

[From the moment I first saw you, I already—]

They flocked to his side, their voices gratingly loud.

Just by opening their mouths, he already knew what they were going to say.

Now it was no different.

Those blurred faces—he couldn’t even be bothered to remember them.

All just humans who, because of the infection, were hopelessly infatuated with him.

Yan Mei had come to this school merely to amuse himself in this monotonous world.

After all, to him, it was all the same.

A barren playground.

He would discard this identity sooner or later.

Midway through the dull speech, Yan Mei looked up again, idly letting his gaze wander over the crowd.

But suddenly, his movement halted.

Because among all the people, only one had their head lowered, completely out of sync with the others.

That person’s presence stood out starkly.

Even now, their attention was entirely focused on their phone, fingers constantly moving.

What were they doing?

Could it be—

I don’t attract them?

Muttering the lines he had long memorized, his gaze remained fixed on that person.

Surprise. Confusion.

Unfamiliar emotions stirred inside him.

The sound of applause filled the hall, and only then did Yan Mei realize the speech had ended.

Returning to his seat required passing by that person.

As he walked past, his eyes glanced at their phone, only to find they were merely playing a game.

Unbelievable.

It was just an ordinary game.

From that moment on, Yan Mei’s gaze remained locked onto them.

And yet, that person was shockingly oblivious.

Yan Mei made no effort to conceal his stare, yet they remained unaware, their head still lowered, engrossed in their game.

[What kind of creature is this?]

The entrance ceremony finally ended.

A wave of noise surged toward the exit as people pushed forward in a chaotic tide.

Yet, that person remained motionless.

Yan Mei, too, stood still, staring at their back.

Between them, the crowd streamed past, moving in reverse like an opposing current.

Only the two of them remained unmoving, until the hall was completely emptied, and the lingering heat dissipated.

Now, there were only the two of them.

And still, that person did not react to his presence at all.

Above, the ceiling fan creaked.

Through a half-open window, the silhouettes of trees outside the school building swayed.

In the summer haze, the shifting shadows cast long, stretching across the floor, covering Yan Mei’s entire vision.

From the trees, cicadas droned endlessly.

[What is this?]

No admiration, no obsession.

Only complete indifference—an unsettling, deathly silence.

Yan Mei’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar emotion surged within him.

A thrill unlike anything he had ever experienced spread through his chest, curling the corners of his lips into an involuntary smile.

How…

Interesting.

How incredibly interesting!

His human heart pounded wildly.

Yan Mei remained there, his gaze locked onto the human before him.

Meanwhile, a sense of exhilaration swelled within him.

His vision seemed to sharpen, the world around him revealing itself in clearer detail.

In that moment, his dull and monotonous days were suddenly infused with vibrant color.

Until complete darkness enveloped the hall.

Only then did he realize—

He had been standing there, staring at that person’s back, for so long.

The silence was so absolute that he could hear his own breathing, the pounding of his heart.

The cicadas’ cries gradually faded.

After an unknown amount of time, Yan Mei finally withdrew his gaze.

In the darkness, he quietly walked toward the hall’s exit.

Down the corridor, only faint traces of light flickered from the far end.

That was a security guard patrolling the floor. Before turning away, he took one last look at that human’s back and suppressed the urge to step forward.

[We will meet again.]

[Since that’s the case, he will stay at this school for now.]

Yan Mei withdrew his gaze.

Before the security guard arrived, he had already left the corridor.

He initially thought that obtaining the other party’s personal information would be the simplest task. After all, as long as he showed even a slight interest, others would immediately pour out everything they knew, offering it up to him like a devoted sacrifice. But things didn’t go as expected.

Even so—

Aside from learning that the other party’s name was [Ye Jishu], he could find out nothing else.

It was said that Ye Jishu was someone with no sense of presence.

No friends.

No acquaintances who knew even a little about him.

Even within his own major, when his name was mentioned, the response was always: “Do we even have someone like that in our school?”

Yan Mei ignored the jealous looks in others’ eyes when they heard him mention that name. His mind kept echoing with a single thought.

Too interesting.

This was just too interesting…

The top student in the mathematics department—

Yet someone completely unrecognized, an insignificant nobody.

In the stairwell.

Under the shade of trees where no one was around.

It seemed that in these shadowed corners, the other person always emerged, breathing quietly and unnoticed.

And no one ever took notice of such a scene.

Yan Mei’s gaze trailed from the other’s face, down his neck and collarbone, finally landing on his slender fingers.

As always, the other was playing a game on his phone, completely indifferent to his surroundings.

What was he playing?

He wanted to figure it out—what could be so engaging that it allowed him to ignore even Yan Mei himself?

[Ha, everyone else is so eager to pay attention to me—why doesn’t he?]

And so, he stood not too far away, observing this peculiar human.

He wanted those emotionless eyes to lift and look at him.

He wanted to mess up that blank expression.

If he could make the other show a different look, that would be so satisfying…

Yan Mei’s heart was filled with an unbearable, filthy desire.

It grew stronger, festering in the dark depths of his mind, especially in the dead of night.

Although the school was large, if one party intentionally wanted to meet the other, it wouldn’t be difficult.

But no matter what he did in Ye Jishu’s presence—

The other never once looked at him, as if he were nothing more than irrelevant air.

[How interesting.]

[What would it take for him to notice me?]

No one had ever so openly ignored him before.

What was this?

Yan Mei had always been the one others clung to. For the first time, he experienced the restless, burning feeling of wanting to be noticed by someone specific.

He wanted the other to take the initiative to do something for him.

Or perhaps—he should take the initiative himself.

More than once, he had come across the other playing on his phone at the bottom of the stairs.

Yan Mei simply stood at the top, greedily gazing down at his figure—

Yet the other remained completely unaware.

His pale neck, the slightly loose clothes exposing his collarbones…

…So engrossed, so utterly defenseless.

Even if someone were to slip a hand under his coat and into his shirt, he might not even notice.

He wanted to see the other’s surprised gaze.

Maybe, at that moment, the other would use that uniquely flat tone Yan Mei had overheard before and ask, slightly confused—

“Who are you?”

“What are you doing?”

He wanted to get close, to lean down and touch him.

Because his interpersonal relationships were so simple.

He had no one to talk to properly—not even a single person—which meant it was natural for him to lack common sense. Yan Mei found this aspect quite appealing as well.

Only now did he realize—

He really liked… No.

His brain immediately denied it.

He was merely interested in such an untainted existence.

How could it be anything more?

Absolutely impossible—

This situation persisted for a long time.

And every time, it was always him watching Ye Jishu from a distance—
The two of them never truly interacted.

Yan Mei would never, absolutely never, take the initiative to talk to a human.

Because those creatures were disgusting.

He despised and loathed those who threw themselves at him—it was so cheap, so lowly—just like the very concept of “love” itself.

Yet, no matter how many times they crossed paths, Ye Jishu never spoke to him.

Even when he repeatedly created opportunities.

Looking at the surrounding people who continued to cast infatuated gazes at him, for the first time, Yan Mei began to doubt himself.

His peripheral vision landed on the clear reflection of his own face in the dirty roadside puddle.

…Am I not attractive enough?

This face, this identity—

He even went out of his way to suppress his bad temper, pretending to be approachable, making himself seem easier to talk to.

All of it was so that [Ye Jishu] would naturally speak to him.

But he never did.

Not even once.

There wasn’t the slightest possibility of contact between them.

So frustrating. He wanted to destroy it all.

What the hell was he doing? Yan Mei had no idea.

He was simply being driven by instinct, continuously crossing paths with Ye Jishu.

His mind was in complete disarray.

[He liked his emotionless face. He liked the quiet aura surrounding him. He liked the focused look in his eyes when he was absorbed in something. He liked the way he spoke so briefly. He liked how he handled people cleanly and decisively—he liked…]

Yan Mei had unintentionally come across Ye Jishu’s blank-faced student ID photo, and for a moment, he stood still.

It was when he passed by the school’s bulletin board.

The buzzing noise of others confessing their love faded into the background.

That face shouldn’t have gone unnoticed.

And yet, to everyone else, it seemed indistinct and blurred, hidden behind some kind of fog.

Except for Yan Mei—only he had discovered him.

A sense of superiority surged through him. But it was mixed with an inexplicable resentment.

He reached out and let his fingertips brush over the photo on the bulletin board.

Then, he turned and left.

And yet, in the end—

On that rainy night,

Yan Mei was confessed to once again.

Just because he spent a little more time alone, it always turned into this.

It had happened so often that he no longer cared.

If it weren’t for needing to stay in this school, waiting for a chance to interact with Ye Jishu, he would never have tolerated these humans lingering around him.

But he was already reaching his limit.

That human—Ye Jishu—was far more of an anomaly than the rest.

How utterly boring.

Yan Mei watched coldly, listening to the repeated confessions ringing in his ears, blending into the suffocating downpour.

Then suddenly—

He sensed a sudden shift in the air around him.

The confessions came with longer pauses in between, as if something was interfering.

Yan Mei’s movements halted.

At the same time—

Lightning tore through the sky, flashing blue-purple light through the window, illuminating the entire storage room like daylight.

Something stirred within him.

He turned his head and abruptly saw that familiar figure through the slightly open door.

“Bang, bang, bang—”

In that instant, Yan Mei’s heart pounded like a drum.

The torrential rain roared outside, but the sound faded away in his ears.

All that remained in his vision was Ye Jishu, standing there.

Even though the other wanted to retreat, those eyes finally reflected his image.

Suppressing the excitement surging in his chest, he slowly approached.

[Finally, finally.]

Then, Ye Jishu spoke the words—like a curse.

“I like you. Please be with me.”

Love is vile. Disgusting.

Yan Mei had always believed this.

Hearing the same words from Ye Jishu—words he had heard from countless others—he should have found it dull and immediately lost interest.

But—

Instead, an uncontrollable desire swelled within him. He wanted to pull Ye Jishu into his arms, hold him tightly.

[…I’ve waited so long… This person, he really is mine.]

[Mine alone.]

[The only human to ever make me feel this way.]

Since that’s the case, I will never let go.

You said it yourself—you like me.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or false. I will never let you slip from my sight again.

Because the [Yan Mei] that exists now was created by you—twisted into this form by your indifference.

I will make you mine. Mine alone. My everything.

Even though unease churned in his heart, he forced himself to ignore it.

Because compared to the person in front of him, everything else was insignificant.

Four months.

Yan Mei’s past indifference had finally come back to haunt him.

The tension that had built up for months had finally snapped like a fuse.

“Love.”

It was the cruelest curse.

Even a distorted love like his could not escape its torment.

Ye Jishu didn’t love him.

Yan Mei had known this from the very beginning.

That night in the rain, the confession had only been a way to escape him.

If the Bureau gave Ye Jishu a chance to undo everything, he would seize it without hesitation.

Yan Mei only clung to the faint hope that Ye Jishu cared, just a little—that’s why he endured, waiting for that moment to come, hoping to be utterly destroyed.

“…I’ve liked you for a long time, Jishu.”

Yan Mei looked at the shocked person before him, speaking with a cruel sort of pleasure.

“That night, you were the one who walked into my trap. Thinking back now, it wouldn’t have taken long before I gave in and pathetically approached you myself.”

This was a fate neither of them could escape.

“Ever since the opening ceremony, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. So I will never allow you to leave my side—”

“Yan Mei.”

Yan Mei abruptly looked up.

The surprise in Ye Jishu’s eyes had vanished. Then, he spoke, cutting him off.

“I never thought that way.”

Yan Mei’s body tensed.

“I like you. I only just realized it,” Ye Jishu said. “I wasn’t avoiding you to leave—I…”

Yan Mei suddenly reached out, gripping both of Ye Jishu’s wrists tightly. There was no doubt his strength would leave glaring red marks.

“Liar.” His expression twisted slightly, but it did nothing to dull his breathtaking beauty. “Jishu, you’re lying. If that were true, why did you agree to the Bureau’s terms? Why did you try to erase our first meeting? I’ve always known—you never really cared about me. You only liked the part of me that was admired by others.”

Sensing the turmoil in Yan Mei’s heart, Ye Jishu flipped his hands and held onto him instead. He couldn’t help but blurt out—

“That’s not it. It’s because that confession was too careless. It didn’t feel right,” he said.

“I wanted to get to know you properly. Because I realized I like you, I wanted to start over—to confess in a different way. Is that not okay?”

The Bureau, the consequences—none of it mattered to him.

They called Yan Mei a “monster.”

For a moment, Ye Jishu had been startled, even frightened. His heart had pounded violently, and his understanding of the world had been shaken.

But very quickly, he didn’t care anymore.

Yes, that’s how it was. But so what?

Because in a way, this only proved that his feelings for Yan Mei were real. That they weren’t caused by some inhuman influence.

To be honest, it was a relief.

Thank you, Bureau.

[I guess I’m a strange person. In every way.]

Ye Jishu had always known he thought differently from others.

Most people couldn’t accept his lack of emotional fluctuation.

Even his parents.

He was more selfish than people assumed. Perhaps. After all, he had never cared much about what happened to others.

The Bureau had told him to “choose.”

And Ye Jishu’s choice was to take the risk and stay with Yan Mei.

That part had never changed.

Breaking up was only to come back together again.

But the Bureau had never said what would happen if he refused to separate from Yan Mei.

Not that he particularly cared about the consequences—

He just simply thought that if possible, it would be nice if that awkward “confession” could be done differently.

That way, it wouldn’t keep reminding him that their relationship had started under false pretenses.

He wanted Yan Mei to understand that.

It was sudden, but if he simply said it outright, he worried it might come out wrong.

And it was precisely because he feared misunderstanding that he chose to express it through his actions instead.

He just hadn’t expected Yan Mei to return to the past as well.

That’s why he had been so shocked earlier.

Because he knew how much Yan Mei overthought things, and for a moment, he was at a loss.

Since he had never been close to anyone before, expressing his feelings so directly was difficult.

If it were anyone else, he would have just said it without caring how they felt.

But because it was Yan Mei, he hesitated.

Seeing the person in front of him suddenly freeze, saying nothing, head lowered in prolonged silence—

Even Ye Jishu couldn’t help but feel a trace of unease.

“I even prepared a gift for you…” he said. “Do you still want it?”

Thinking about it now, it probably wasn’t something Yan Mei truly wanted… It seemed like all that effort had been for nothing, meaningless.

[Can I really win someone over like this…?]

[This is so difficult.]

Yan Mei suddenly spoke, his tone quick and unwavering. “Jishu, you’re not suddenly overthinking things again and deciding to give up, are you?”

Ye Jishu: would not.