Top hunters often show up disguised as prey. — Lin Shenting × Song Xiaoyuan — a refined, rakish predator × a seductive, green-tea siren. Lin Shenting often suspected that the only thing inside Song Xiaoyuan’s head was how to lure people in. The first time they met at the bar, Song Xiaoyuan had already been flirting on purpose—leaning in, offering himself up like an invitation. The next time, when they ran into each other at school, he cornered Lin in a restroom stall, hands wandering boldly as he tried to breach the man’s defenses. To Lin, Song Xiaoyuan was a monster wrapped in an angel’s face—something beautiful, seemingly harmless, but made only to take. A creature that fed on its prey, drowned them in pleasure, then wiped its mouth clean and walked away without a shred of remorse. But Lin Shenting was different. He would never be seduced by a monster. — Song Xiaoyuan, on the other hand, often wondered whether Lin Shenting had no desire at all—or whether something about him simply didn’t work. After all his attempts at seduction, Lin reacted as if watching comedy, utterly unmoved. The first time Song lured him from the bar to the seaside, Lin rejected his heated invitation with icy indifference. The next time they met, Song trapped him in the restroom and wrapped his arms around his waist—only to be shoved aside, Lin tossing out a single line as he left: “You’re insane.” Song eventually got bored. Handsome men were everywhere; there were far too many untamed prey waiting. He saw no reason to waste energy on one odd, stubborn man. But on the thirty-seventh day after Song Xiaoyuan finally gave up on capturing Lin Shenting, Lin pinned him against a wall—body pressed flush to his own— and murmured beside his ear: “Why did you stop trying to seduce me?”