Chapter Text
The lecture hall was a sauna, buzzing with the collective anxiety of two hundred fourth-year mechanical engineering students. Wu Suowei, slouched in his usual spot near the back, fanned himself with his notebook. The air conditioning, like his motivation during the first week of classes, was on strike.
“I’m telling you, Xiaoshuai, this is the year,” Suowei declared, flashing a grin at his best friend. “The year I become a model student. No more all-nighters before exams. No more bribing the TAs with bubble tea. Just pure, unadulterated academic excellence.”
Jiang Xiaoshuai, who was meticulously color-coding his schedule, didn’t even look up. “You said that last year. And the year before that. The only thing you excelled at was finding new and creative ways to flirt with the library assistant.”
“And I almost succeeded! If she hadn’t transferred to art school…” Suowei sighed dramatically, then perked up. “But this is different! We’re seniors! We have to set an example for the little freshmen. We have to… what’s the word?”
“Graduate?” Xiaoshuai supplied dryly.
“Exactly!” Suowei’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “And I heard a rumor. A glorious, wonderful rumor.”
Before he could elaborate, a hush fell over the room. It was so sudden and absolute that Suowei’s own voice seemed to echo in the silence. All eyes turned to the door.
And then he walked in.
He was tall—so tall he had to duck slightly under the doorframe.
A crisp, black designer suit hugged a frame that spoke less of a scholar and more of a panther ready to strike. His hair was jet black, perfectly styled, and his face… Suowei’s brain short-circuited. It was a face carved from ice and arrogance, with a jawline sharp enough to slice through steel and eyes so dark and piercing they seemed to assess and find lacking every single person in the room.
He moved with a silent, domineering grace that commanded obedience without a single word.
“Whoa,” Suowei breathed, his previous bravado vanishing. “Who is that?”
Xiaoshuai, for once, looked equally stunned. “I… I don’t know. He’s not on the faculty list from last semester.”
The man reached the podium and placed a single, expensive-looking leather folio on it. He didn’t smile. He didn’t introduce himself. He simply swept his gaze across the sea of silent students, and when his eyes passed over their section, Suowei felt a shiver run down his spine.
“Good morning,” his voice was a low, resonant baritone, cool and devoid of warmth. It wasn’t a greeting; it was a statement of fact. “I am Professor Chi Cheng. This is Advanced Thermodynamics and Fluid Mechanics, ME 480. If you are here by mistake, leave now.”
No one moved. You could have heard a pin drop.
“This is not an elective for you to sleep through,” Chi Cheng continued, his hands clasped behind his back. “The pass rate for this class in the last five years is forty-two percent. I intend to lower that average. Your previous accomplishments mean nothing to me. Your excuses will mean even less. The only currency I trade in is perfection.”
A collective gulp seemed to ripple through the lecture hall.
Suowei, however, felt his initial awe curdle into indignation. Lower the average? Who did this guy think he was? A god? He leaned over to Xiaoshuai. “Talk about an overinflated ego. Bet he’s compensating for something.”
Xiaoshuai elbowed him sharply. “Shut up, Suowei.”
But it was too late. Those dark, hawk-like eyes snapped directly to them.
“You,” Professor Chi’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “In the gray hoodie. What is your name?”
All two hundred heads swiveled to look at Suowei. He felt his face heat up. Slowly, he straightened in his seat. “Wu Suowei, Professor.”
“Wu Suowei,” Chi Cheng repeated, as if tasting the name and finding it bland. “Since you find my class rules so amusing, perhaps you can enlighten the rest of us. What is the fundamental difference between the Reynolds Transport Theorem and the material derivative?”
Suowei’s mind went blank. He’d partied all summer. The most complex thought he’d had in three months was calculating the optimal ratio of soju to beer. He stammered, “I, uh… well, one is for a system and the other is for… control volume?”
Chi Cheng’s expression didn’t change, but the disappointment in his eyes was a physical weight. “A spectacularly vague and incorrect simplification. It seems your summer vacation has successfully erased three years of foundational knowledge. See me after class, Wu Suowei.”
The humiliation burned. Suowei sank lower in his seat, his cheeks flaming. The professor turned back to the board, beginning his lecture as if the entire exchange had never happened.
The next ninety minutes were a special kind of torture. Chi Cheng’s teaching style was as cold and efficient as his demeanor. He presented complex concepts without sugar-coating, his questions were sharp and targeted, and he showed zero patience for hesitant answers.
He called on Suowei two more times, each time with a question just slightly beyond his flustered grasp, each time met with a curt, dismissive correction.
When the bell finally rang, it felt like a pardon from the governor. Students scrambled to escape, casting sympathetic or amused glances at Suowei, who remained glued to his seat, fuming.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” Xiaoshuai whispered, grabbing his bag and fleeing.
Slowly, the hall emptied until it was just Suowei and the imposing figure at the podium, who was calmly packing his folio. Suowei trudged down the steps, his sneakers scuffing against the linoleum.
He reached the podium. “Professor Chi?”
Chi Cheng looked up, his gaze impersonal. “Wu Suowei. Do you have any idea why you are here?”
“Because I talked in class?” Suowei offered, trying to inject a bit of his usual charm into his voice.
“No. You are here because you displayed a level of intellectual laziness I will not tolerate. This is a fourth-year advanced course. The time for coddling is over. Your performance today suggests you are not prepared for the rigors of this subject.”
Suowei’s temper, never far from the surface, flared. “With all due respect, Professor, it’s the first day. Maybe cut us some slack?”
A flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps—crossed Chi Cheng’s impassive face. “Slack is what causes bridges to collapse and planes to fall from the sky. I am an engineer, not a therapist. My role is to ensure you do not become a liability to this profession.” He picked up his folio.
“Consider this your only warning. The next time you disrupt my class or demonstrate a similar lack of preparation, you will find yourself dropped from the roster. Do I make myself clear?”
The dismissal was absolute. Suowei could only clench his fists and nod, his jaw tight.
“Crystal clear, Professor.”
“Good. You are dismissed.”
Suowei turned on his heel and stormed out of the lecture hall. Xiaoshuai was waiting by the water fountain, his face a mask of concern.
“Well? What did he say?”
“That guy… that ice-block, suit-wearing, walking statue…” Suowei seethed, running a hand through his hair. “He has it out for me! I can feel it!”
“He’s just strict, Suowei. The rumor is he’s a genius. Youngest full professor in the department’s history. Made his first million with a patent before he was twenty-five.”
“I don’t care if he invented gravity!” Suowei snapped. “He’s a tyrant! The Tyrant of Thermodynamics!” He pointed a dramatic finger back at the lecture hall doors. “Mark my words, Xiaoshuai. This means war. He thinks he can break me? He has no idea who he’s dealing with. Wu Suowei does not back down from a challenge.”
As he ranted, a figure emerged from a side corridor—a man almost as tall as Professor Chi, but with a completely different energy. He was handsome in a sly, easygoing way, wearing a charming smile and a perfectly tailored blazer that screamed friendly money.
He clapped Chi Cheng on the shoulder as he exited the hall, a gesture Chi Cheng tolerated with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
“See?!” Suowei hissed, pulling Xiaoshuai behind a pillar. “He has friends! Probably equally cold and evil!”
“That’s Professor Guo Chengyu,” Xiaoshuai whispered. “He teaches Advanced Materials Science. I heard he and Professor Chi are best friends.”
“Of course they are,” Suowei grumbled, watching the two men walk away. Chi Cheng, cold and unapproachable, and Guo Chengyu, who looked back over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes briefly scanning the hallway and landing on their hiding spot with an amused, knowing glint before turning away.
Suowei’s heart was pounding, a mixture of fury, humiliation, and a strange, unwelcome thrill. Professor Chi Cheng was an infuriating, domineering, impossibly handsome problem. And Wu Suowei, bratty, loud, and scheming, had just decided that solving him would be his final year’s ultimate project. He just didn't know yet whether the solution would involve acing his class... or dismantling his cold, composed world, brick by icy brick.
Suowei stared after the retreating forms of the two professors, his blood still simmering. The casual, friendly dynamic between the ice block and the charming fox only made Chi Cheng seem more infuriating. He could be normal; he just chose not to be. At least, not with his students.
"Come on," Xiaoshuai said, tugging at his sleeve. "We have Structural Analysis in fifteen minutes, and Professor Xuan is a stickler for punctuality."
"Punctuality," Suowei muttered, allowing himself to be dragged away. "Another tool of the oppressor."
He spent the rest of the day in a sulk, the encounter with Professor Chi Cheng playing on a loop in his mind. He rephrased his own answers, crafting perfect, witty retorts that would have left the professor speechless. In reality, he'd just stammered and blushed like a scolded child. It was unacceptable.
By the time their last class ended, Suowei's mood had curdled from indignant to scheming. He slung his backpack over one shoulder, a new, dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Xiaoshuai," he announced. "We're going to the library."
Xiaoshuai, who was mid-sip from his water bottle, choked. "What? Who are you and what have you done with Wu Suowei? The library? On the first week? The only thing there is dust and the ghosts of students who studied too hard."
"We're not going to study," Suowei said, a slow, cunning smile spreading across his face. "We're going on a reconnaissance mission. We need intelligence. On the enemy."
"Enemy? Suowei, he's our professor, not a rival spy syndicate."
"Same difference," Suowei waved a dismissive hand. "Sun Tzu said, 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.' I know myself. I'm a charming, handsome, and—when motivated—deviously smart guy. But I know nothing about him. What's his background? What are his research interests? What are his weaknesses?"
Xiaoshuai sighed, recognizing the look. It was the same look Suowei got before attempting to cheat at a drinking game by secretly replacing his beer with tea. It never ended well. "This is a terrible idea. We should just study for his class. That's the logical way to defeat him."
"Logic is for people who don't have flair," Suowei retorted, already marching towards the university's main library, a towering, modern building of glass and steel. "We're using strategy."
The engineering section of the library was a vast, silent cavern, smelling of old paper and new electronics. Suowei beelined for the public computer terminals.
"Okay," he whispered, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Professor Chi Cheng... Mechanical Engineering Department..."
The faculty page loaded. There he was. The official photo was just as severe, if not more so. It looked like the photographer had threatened his family. Below the picture was a list of credentials that made Suowei's head spin.
- Ph.D. in Thermofluids, Tsinghua University.
- M.S. in Aerospace Engineering, Stanford University.
- B.S. in Mechanical Engineering, Tsinghua University.
- Principal Investigator, Chi-Lab for Advanced Propulsion Systems.
- Recipient of the National Distinguished Young Scholar Award.
- Author of over 50 peer-reviewed publications.
"Ugh," Suowei groaned, scrolling down. "He's not just a professor; he's a super-villain with a published thesis. Look at this! 'Multiscale Modeling of Turbulent Combustion in Scramjet Engines.' What even is that?"
"It means he's really, really smart," Xiaoshuai said, peering over his shoulder. "And we are really, really not. Can we go now?"
"Not yet." Suowei's eyes scanned for personal details. There were none. No hobbies listed, no personal bio. It was a CV, not a life. He was a fortress of academic achievement, with no apparent gate.
Frustrated, Suowei opened a new tab and navigated to the university's internal forum, a hive of student gossip and shared misery. He typed "Chi Cheng" into the search bar.
The results exploded.
Dozens of threads popped up. 'Is it possible to survive ME480?' 'Petition to fire Professor Chi Cheng (again).' 'A comprehensive guide to not cry in Chi Cheng's class.'
But there were just as many, if not more, of a different nature.
'Professor Chi Cheng is so hot it should be illegal.' 'Did anyone see Prof. Chi in the gym today? I think I saw God.' 'The way he fixes his tie when he's thinking... I'm deceased.'
Suowei scowled. "Look at this! They're all fawning over him! They're calling him 'The Ice Prince' and talking about his 'god-tier jawline'! Don't they have any self-respect? He's a tyrant!"
"He is objectively handsome, Suowei," Xiaoshuai said reasonably. "And rich. And brilliant. It's a potent combination."
"It's a combination for disaster," Suowei grumbled, clicking on a thread titled: The Rumor About Prof. Chi's Ex.
The thread was mostly speculation, but one consistent name popped up: Wang Shuo. Apparently, they had been a golden couple during their own university days—both brilliant, both beautiful. The details were vague, but the consensus was that it had ended badly years ago, and Chi Cheng had been single and focused solely on his work ever since.
"Aha!" Suowei whispered, a thrill of discovery running through him. "A vulnerability. A tragic past. Every ice king has one."
Just then, a new, deep voice cut through the quiet of the library. "Looking me up, Mr. Wu? I'm flattered."
Suowei froze, his blood turning to ice water in his veins. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head.
Professor Chi Cheng stood not three feet away, having approached as silently as a predator. He was out of his suit jacket, his white dress shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing surprisingly corded forearms. He held a thick, foreign-language engineering text in one hand. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes were fixed on the forum page still displayed on the screen.
Xiaoshuai made a small, strangled noise and took a step back, as if preparing to flee and leave Suowei to his fate.
"P-Professor!" Suowei stammered, slamming his hand on the mouse to close the browser tab, but it was too late. The damage was done. "I was just... researching!"
"Researching student gossip about my personal life?" Chi Cheng's voice was dangerously quiet. He took a step closer, and Suowei felt the sheer force of his presence, the height difference suddenly feeling immense. "I was under the impression you were an engineering student, not a journalism major. My mistake."
"It's a public forum," Suowei managed to get out, his pride rallying despite the terror. "Freedom of information."
A muscle in Chi Cheng's jaw twitched. "Your fascination with 'freedom' seems to be the root of all your problems today, Mr. Wu. First, freedom of speech in my lecture. Now, freedom to snoop." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper that was for Suowei's ears only. It wasn't a friendly whisper. It was a threat, wrapped in silk. "Let me be perfectly clear. My personal life is none of your concern. Your only concern, if you wish to remain in my class, is thermodynamics. Are we understood?"
Suowei could only nod, his throat dry. The scent of Chi Cheng's cologne, something clean and expensive like sandalwood and ozone, filled his senses, momentarily dizzying him.
"Good." Chi Cheng straightened up, his gaze sweeping over Suowei one last time, a look of utter dismissal. He then turned and walked towards the library's research section, his posture ramrod straight.
The moment he was out of earshot, Suowei slumped against the computer terminal, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"See?" Xiaoshuai hissed. "I told you this was a terrible idea! He's going to fail you for sure now!"
But Suowei, after the initial shock wore off, felt a new, stubborn fire ignite in his gut. The humiliation was still there, hot and sharp, but it was now mixed with a fierce, competitive drive. Chi Cheng thought he could intimidate him? He thought he was so superior, so untouchable?
Suowei looked in the direction the professor had disappeared, a slow, determined smile tugging at his lips. It was no longer just about passing a class.
"No," Suowei said, his voice low and steady. "This just got interesting. He wants to make my life about thermodynamics? Fine. But I'm going to make his life about me."
The war was officially declared. And Wu Suowei, bratty, loud, and impossibly stubborn, had never been more motivated to win.