Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess
Chapter 76: Who are you

Chapter 76: Who are you

Haoyu barely had time to process what was happening before a strong hand grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward.

Feng Yizhou’s grip was firm, his expression dark and unreadable. A dangerous aura crackled around him like a brewing storm.

"I said—who are you?" His voice was cold, each word slow and deliberate.

Haoyu’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest. What the fuck—why does this guy feel like a final boss?

Before he could stammer out a response, Qingran shot up from her seat.

"Yizhou," she called sharply. "He’s my person. Let him go."

Feng Yizhou didn’t immediately release his grip. His black eyes flickered between Qingran and Haoyu, tension rolling off him in waves.

"..."

Then his gaze darkened further.

"Why the fuck is there a man in your house?" His voice was even lower now, dangerous, as he turned his attention fully onto her.

Before Haoyu could protest being called a ’man’—he was literally fifteen—Feng Yizhou released him and stalked toward Qingran.

The intensity in his gaze was suffocating. He stopped just inches away, his towering frame nearly pressing her back.

"Qingran," his voice dipped, suspicious, sharp, "are you—"

"Shut up!" Qingran cut him off before he could finish whatever nonsense he was about to say. Her patience had officially snapped.

"He’s fifteen for fuck’s sake." She shoved a hand against Yizhou’s chest to keep some distance between them. "He’s just a little brother of mine, staying here for the time being. Clear whatever thoughts you have in your head—I am not in the mood for that."

Feng Yizhou’s eyes flickered with something unreadable.

A long silence stretched between them.

"...Tsk." He finally exhaled, stepping back, but the tension in his body hadn’t eased.

Haoyu, who had been frozen in place the entire time, finally dared to move. He clutched his shirt, feeling utterly wronged.

"What the hell is his problem?" he muttered under his breath.

Lotus flicked his tail lazily from the couch. [You almost died just now. Count your blessings.]

Feng Yizhou’s expression remained cold, but there was something almost crazed flickering in his dark eyes.

"You can’t see anyone, Qingran," he said, voice low and unwavering. "I refuse to allow it."

Qingran narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

His hand suddenly shot out, gripping her chin—not harshly, but firm enough that she couldn’t ignore his touch. His black eyes bore into hers, unrelenting.

"You. Are. Mine."

Haoyu coughed loudly from the side. "Uh, I’m still here, you know."

Qingran slapped Yizhou’s hand away, her patience wearing dangerously thin. "First of all, back the hell up. Second—who the fuck do you think you are, telling me who I can and can’t see?"

Yizhou’s jaw clenched. "I’m the only one you need."

"That’s not how this works." Qingran huffed, crossing her arms. "You don’t own me, Yizhou."

He let out a sharp breath, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His gaze swept over Haoyu again, as if the boy’s very existence in her space pissed him off.

"Then why the hell is he here?"

"For fuck’s sake, I just told you—he’s my little brother. Not that I need to explain myself to you."

Yizhou’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not satisfied with that answer.

Haoyu, sensing this might escalate into something he wanted no part in, took a step back toward the couch. "You know what? This feels like a ’not my problem’ situation. I’ll just... be over there."

Lotus, lounging lazily, flicked his tail in agreement. [A wise decision.]

Qingran exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, I don’t have the energy for whatever jealous possessive bullshit this is. Either calm the fuck down, or go stand in a corner and brood until you fix your attitude."

Yizhou’s eye twitched.

But instead of arguing, he suddenly stepped closer again—too close. His breath ghosted over her ear as he murmured, "You think I’d ever let someone else have you?"

Qingran stiffened.

Before she could shove him away, he brushed past her and walked toward the kitchen, as if that whole scene hadn’t just happened.

Qingran barely had time to process his sudden shift when Yizhou turned back to her, his expression dark and unwavering.

"I love you, Qingran."

Her breath caught.

"No man will ever love you the way I do," he continued, voice low but laced with intensity. "And I will not let another man come close to you."

Her fists clenched. "You’re fucking insane."

"You should have left me a warning," Yizhou murmured, stepping closer again, his gaze sharp. "You should have told me there was another man in your house before I walked in and saw him sitting there like he belonged here."

Qingran scoffed. "You’re acting like I was hiding some fucking lover in here. He’s a kid, Yizhou. Fifteen! Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Yizhou’s jaw tightened, but his eyes never left her. "I don’t care how young he is. I don’t care who he is. I don’t care if it’s a child, an old man, a fucking ghost—no one gets to stay by your side but me."

Qingran swore she could feel her blood pressure rising. "And what the hell do you expect me to do? Live in isolation just because you say so?"

"If that’s what it takes," he said without hesitation.

Qingran stared at him, stunned at the sheer audacity. She was used to his possessiveness, but this—this was another level of crazy.

Haoyu, who had been very deliberately minding his business, suddenly cleared his throat. "Sooo... should I just leave?"

Yizhou shot him a look.

Qingran immediately stepped between them, placing a hand on Haoyu’s shoulder. "He’s not going anywhere."

Yizhou’s hands clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then met her gaze once more.

"I mean it, Qingran." His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "I will not let another man come close to you."

Qingran ran a hand through her hair, trying to suppress the urge to punch him. "And what exactly do you plan to do about it? Kill every man who talks to me?"

Qingran’s breath hitched as Yizhou’s dark eyes bore into hers, his expression unwavering.

"You know I can do that," he said, voice low, almost chilling in its certainty. "I can do anything for you." His fingers twitched at his sides, as if barely restraining himself. "That’s how obsessed I am with you."

Qingran’s fingers curled into a fist. "You’re not fucking serious."