Two school administrators immediately stepped forward: "Miss, Mr. He doesn’t like being disturbed..."
Yet, He Siyu didn’t seem displeased. Instead, he displayed an uncharacteristic touch of warmth: "She went out of her way to collect a magazine from years ago. That’s dedication."
"Huh?" The administrators were stunned.
"You want an autograph?" His tone was casual.
Nan Sangning froze for a moment, meeting his lazy, dark eyes—eyes that seemed to see right through her.
"I was just helping a—"
"Quite the effort."
He Siyu casually pulled out a fountain pen, removed the cap, and with his slender, well-defined fingers, swiftly signed his name across the magazine cover.
He handed it back to her, recapped the pen, and tucked it away before striding past her with effortless grace.
Sangning remained rooted in place, slightly dazed. She looked down at the magazine in her arms, where his name—"He Siyu"—was scrawled in bold, elegant strokes.
"Oh my god!!!"
Ye Qian clutched the magazine in disbelief, nearly crushing Sangning in an excited hug. "Sangning! You’re my lucky star! You actually got his autograph for me!"
Sangning wheezed under the tight embrace. "I just happened to run into him."
"I thought after what happened, Young Master He would never give Jing University students the time of day again. Yet he still signed it!"
Sangning replied flatly, "He said you were... dedicated."
"I knew it! I knew he wasn’t as cold as people say!"
Sangning stayed silent.
She recalled the way He Siyu had looked at her while signing—that faintly smug glint in his eyes. Had she imagined it?
Irritation prickled at her.
Ye Qian was overjoyed, hugging the magazine like a treasure. "Next time, I’m treating you to dinner!"
"Sure."
Whatever. It was over now. No point dwelling on it.
After classes ended, Sangning called Uncle Zhang and waited at the school gate for her ride.
Standing there, a Maybach suddenly pulled up in front of her.
She blinked. Her grandfather had assigned her an Audi—had they upgraded without telling her?
The rear window rolled down, revealing a pair of languid eyes.
She stiffened. "Mr. He?"
She thought he’d left Jing University long ago. What was he still doing here?
His gaze swept over her. "Standing guard?"
"...I’m waiting for my car."
"Get in. I’ll take you."
"No need. Uncle Zhang will be here soon."
"I have something to ask you." He paused, then arched a brow. "Consider it a chance to get another autograph."
"..."
Sangning took a deep breath and swallowed her frustration.
She opened the door and slid inside.
"Why is Mr. He still at Jing University?"
"Just finished some business."
What business? The anniversary event had ended hours ago.
But Sangning had strong boundaries. Even if she was curious, she wouldn’t pry. Ye Qian called it... high emotional intelligence.
Sangning liked that compliment.
She changed the subject.
"What did you want to ask me?"
"Grandma He was wondering about that unnamed piece you played last time. Does it have sheet music?"
During her last visit to the He residence, Sangning had played a few well-known pieces and one of her own compositions—something she’d written just for fun. On a whim, she’d played it for Grandma He, who adored it.
Sangning shook her head. "No, but if Grandma He likes it, I can write it down and send it to her."
"Mm."
The Maybach glided smoothly through traffic.
After a pause, Sangning added, "But I have classes this week. I might not be able to deliver it myself. Could you pass it along for me?"
He Siyu shrugged. "Fine."
Sangning hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Could I get your assistant’s contact details?"
He handed her a business card.
She took it. The card bore only three words: "He Siyu." Below it was a phone number. The back was blank—no title, no company, nothing.
As if his name alone was enough.
Sangning was taken aback. Given his usual caution, she’d expected an assistant’s number at most.
Noticing her stunned expression, he glanced over. "Not satisfied?"
"I just—"
"Need my autograph too?"
Sangning: ???
He Siyu plucked the card from her fingers, flipped it over, and with a flourish of his pen, signed his name again.
He handed it back. "Happy now?"
Sangning clenched the card, mentally repeating: Don’t provoke He Siyu. Not worth it.
She forced a smile. "Thank you, Mr. He."
He scoffed.
"Why take a business course?" he asked.
"Grandfather insisted. Said I should broaden my horizons."
He studied her. She didn’t strike him as the obedient type. Clearly, she was brushing him off.
But when she met his gaze, her eyes were all innocence.
Then he remembered the video Gu Xingchen had sent—her staring, transfixed, at some man.
Like she’d never seen one before.
His lips curled coldly. "You do need to broaden your horizons."
Sangning: ???
Was that an insult? Again?
Were his first words as a baby just sharp retorts?
Was basic courtesy too much to ask? They had no feud, yet he kept needling her. How much was she supposed to take?
High EQ didn’t mean being a doormat.
The car stopped smoothly outside the Nan residence.
He Siyu’s tone was breezy. "We’re here. Don’t forget the sheet music."
Sangning inhaled deeply. Her patience was hanging by a thread.
"Mr. He."
Her voice was eerily calm.
"Hm?" He responded, amused.
She turned to him, expressionless. "Thank you for the ride, but there’s been a misunderstanding. I’d like to clarify—the magazine wasn’t mine. It was my classmate’s. That day on Wutong Road, I wasn’t waiting for you. I was just passing by. Also..."
She pinched the business card between two fingers. "I have zero interest in your autograph."
He Siyu’s smirk froze.
"But since we need to coordinate for the sheet music, I’ll grudgingly keep this."
She snapped the card back into her palm.
He Siyu’s temple twitched. Grudgingly?!
"You’re right. I do need to broaden my horizons. I’ll take your advice to heart. In return, let me offer you some too."
She smiled sweetly. "Don’t flatter yourself."
