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TAHDO Chapter 21

Flustered Ji Xiao-Qiu

Liang Yan hadn’t thought much about it when he spoke; he just felt something was off with Ji Qiu.

Unexpectedly, Ji Qiu’s face grew even more uncomfortable after hearing him. Still, he couldn’t find a proper excuse not to sit down. Awkwardly, he shuffled over with a soft “Oh.”

Liang Yan glanced at him sideways, feeling like a mountain bandit forcing an innocent into submission.

Wait, what kind of metaphor is that?

Seeing the two sit together, Yin Tongguang happily moved to the back row. Liang Yan sat by the window. Even though Ji Qiu had come over, he leaned as far as possible toward the armrest, creating some distance between them.

Liang Yan: “…”

He thought to himself, What am I, a ghost? Just a few days ago, Ji Qiu was all coquettish, acting like a textbook example of a green tea O.

Still, Liang Yan didn’t press further. He nodded slightly and leaned his head against the window.

The other students got on the bus, surprised to see the two Omegas sitting together again. They figured this social practice trip had just gotten a lot more interesting.

Though, the atmosphere between the two seemed unusually silent.

In the back row, whispers began to spread.

“Xiao-Qiu and Liang Yan really have a great relationship, don’t they? Even sitting together for this trip.”

“Well, there are so few Omegas—it’s only natural they’d bond.”

“Why do they look more like a couple who just had a fight?”

“??? That’s a dangerous thought you’ve got there.”

“I don’t care! I’m raising the Double-O Love banner for them!”

“It’s not entirely impossible. I mean, they’re Omegas I’ll never get anyway, so might as well dream about Sister Lai…”

“Sister Lai didn’t come today. You’ll just have to imagine her.”

Liang Yan couldn’t hear the chatter. He only noticed that the person beside him seemed incredibly tense, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him.

The key detail was… the faint sweet scent Ji Qiu used to have was completely absent today.

Liang Yan had once assumed Ji Qiu couldn’t control his pheromones. After realizing it was all an act, he chose not to expose him and even felt a bit sympathetic.

As his gaze unconsciously drifted toward Ji Qiu, he spotted a small bottle in the side pocket of his backpack.

Judging by the packaging, it was unmistakably a pheromone blocker.

Liang Yan smirked inwardly. Looks like he only used a blocker today and forgot to layer on a new scent.

But that sense of familiarity… something was surfacing in his mind. Liang Yan shook his head, suppressing the thought.

Not possible.

He had checked Ji Qiu’s ID card more than once, and it clearly stated his secondary gender.

Just because I was temporarily marked doesn’t mean I should instinctively suspect someone of my own kind.

Liang Yan’s gaze darkened. It felt like he was close to the truth, but a clouded veil blocked his vision, making it impossible to see clearly.

The bite marks on the back of his neck had healed well. For the past few days, Liang Yan had been wearing high-collared clothes, and now the marks were almost invisible.

The bus slowly left the school. Liang Yan leaned against the window, staring outside with no clear focus, lost in thought.

Thankfully, they had left early and avoided traffic. By late morning, the group arrived at KB Corporation’s largest factory complex in the country.

The so-called “practical learning” was just a one-day event. Essentially, it was a guided tour of the facility, allowing the students to gain some insight within permitted boundaries and then write a report afterward.

KB Corporation was involved in various fields, with pharmaceuticals being its largest sector. The company occupied a vast area in the outskirts of Qicheng, with the eastern side housing the main factory and the southwest dedicated to research and monitoring.

Although Liang Yan had limited clinical exposure, KB Pharmaceuticals had a long-standing relationship with the university’s affiliated hospital. Even back in high school, he had seen KB’s executives visit his father, Liang Chen, on numerous occasions.

Because of this, the inhibitors Liang Yan received from his father were often the latest batches not yet available on the market.

The facility manager, clearly experienced in hosting student groups, efficiently led the group through the compound while explaining the day’s itinerary.

It was undeniable that KB’s clinical applications were extensive. Even with a superficial overview, the sheer breadth of operations was impressive. Some sections had strict sterile requirements, ensuring that the day would be fully packed with activity.

Technically, Yin Tongguang didn’t meet the qualifications to participate in the program, but he had tagged along with Liang Yan. Excited like a kid on a sugar rush, he was especially curious about the various formulations for Alphas and Omegas despite being a Beta.

Liang Yan, in contrast, remained composed, quietly taking notes and listening. He didn’t mind Yin Tongguang chattering behind him. Compared to dealing with Ji Qiu, Yin’s constant rambling now felt oddly comforting.

Speaking of noise… Liang Yan realized, after visiting several sections with the group, that Ji Qiu had vanished at some point.

Ji Qiu was always quiet, and since he hadn’t bothered Liang Yan today, Liang hadn’t even noticed when he’d left.

The location was so remote that most people stayed with the group. Still, Liang Yan discreetly scanned the crowd several times and confirmed that Ji Qiu was nowhere to be seen.

“Yan Yan, what’s wrong? Did you lose something?” Yin Tongguang asked, his voice muffled through his sterile suit and mask.

Liang Yan shook his head. Just as he was about to ask if Yin had seen Ji Qiu, the team leader up front spoke up:

“This next area is dedicated to Omega-related pharmaceutical production. Some of you here might not be familiar with this, as it doesn’t pertain to your gender. However, KB’s inhibitors are currently the purest, least side-effect-prone, and most effective on the domestic market. In fact, the next-generation batch 3.0 inhibitors are in their final stages and will be launched soon…”

An Alpha interrupted, “Excuse me, teacher! We have Omegas in our group—two of them!”

Hearing this, many people glanced in Liang Yan’s direction.

Liang Yan didn’t react much, but Yin Tongguang immediately tensed, as if afraid some Alpha might target him.

“Wait, why is it just Liang Yan here?”

“Where’s Xiao-Qiu?”

“Yeah, wasn’t he with Liang Yan earlier?”

“No idea. Maybe he went to another section.”

The team leader, slightly surprised, followed the group’s gaze toward Liang Yan and gave him a polite nod. Just as he was about to move on to the next section, Liang Yan suddenly spoke up.

“By the way, teacher,” Liang Yan said in a soft, distant tone, “I understand that KB’s inhibitors have fewer side effects compared to similar products. However, I’ve read reports about severe adverse reactions causing fatalities with the first batch of inhibitors your company released. Is that true?”

He remembered Yin Tongguang showing him the report and decided to ask directly.

The team leader remained composed, unsurprised by the question. Wearing a practiced, polite smile, he responded unhurriedly in an official tone:

“That incident did occur, but under the joint supervision of multiple organizations, it was confirmed to be an extremely rare accident. The company, from a humanitarian standpoint, provided financial compensation to the deceased’s family.”

Most of the group consisted of Alphas and Betas, and few—aside from gossip enthusiasts like Yin Tongguang—had heard of the incident. The explanation, watertight and polished, quickly quelled the murmurs. Some even quietly expressed relief that they weren’t Omegas and didn’t need inhibitors.

A few others went further, casting sympathetic glances at Liang Yan.

He was all too familiar with those looks. Since high school.

What’s the use of being the top scorer if you’re an Omega?

Omegas can’t handle many jobs.

Omegas shouldn’t study clinical medicine.

Omegas…

Though not malicious, such thoughts stemmed from a deep-seated notion that Omegas were pitiful. The ones thinking this often didn’t even realize how an unspoken Alpha superiority crept into their minds.

Liang Yan’s expression didn’t change as he politely added, “According to rumors, KB’s clinical trials for Omega inhibitors intentionally exclude Alphas. Is that true?”

The question was sharp, but the experienced team leader smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying it.

“I’m not sure where this student heard such a rumor, but I can assure you that the clinical trials for the 3.0 inhibitors were conducted with rigorous standards. All participating Omegas joined voluntarily, and, to be frank, the trials provided immense benefits with no harm to them.”

The team leader’s explanation perfectly sidestepped whether Alphas participated in the trials. He smoothly transitioned to showcasing a new sterile manufacturing plant, skillfully diverting the topic.

Liang Yan didn’t press further. After all, few people genuinely cared about what happened to those of a different gender.

Other people’s stories remain just that—other people’s stories.

Only Yin Tongguang knew how Liang Yan suffered from adverse reactions after each injection of the inhibitor. Glancing at him with concern, Yin hesitated before whispering, “Yan Yan…”

“It’s nothing. I was just curious,” Liang Yan replied calmly. “I use their inhibitors, so I thought I’d look into it a bit.”

After all, the side effects are still manageable for me.

By the time they exited the sterile plant, it was nearly lunchtime.

As scheduled, the team leader took the group to the employee cafeteria and allowed over an hour for rest and recovery before the afternoon activities resumed.

KB’s Qicheng facility, being the largest of its kind, boasted an impressively luxurious cafeteria offering a wide range of cuisines. The students, accustomed to the subpar food of their university cafeteria, were reinvigorated at the sight and swarmed the counters like hungry wolves.

Yin Tongguang wasn’t very hungry, having eaten well in the morning, and Liang Yan wasn’t particularly interested in the food. The two casually picked a less crowded station, ate a bit, and left the cafeteria to wander around.

With time to spare before the afternoon session, they strolled westward and eventually found an employee lounge where they decided to rest.

“KB is massive,” Yin Tongguang marveled.

Liang Yan nodded without commenting.

Since it was the weekend, the facility wasn’t crowded. The air conditioning in the lounge was set high, and Yin Tongguang soon pulled out his phone to play games, while Liang Yan reclined on the sofa.

Glancing up from his game, Yin noticed Liang Yan’s tendency to nap at midday. “Yan Yan, why don’t you rest for a bit? There’s still plenty of time, and it’s just the two of us here. I’ll wake you later.”

Liang Yan hummed in agreement. He wasn’t particularly tired but felt oddly drained today. Closing his eyes, he decided to rest briefly.

Yin Tongguang lowered the game’s volume, and the room quickly grew quiet.

Liang Yan couldn’t fall asleep, though. He kept his eyes closed, his thoughts a tangled mess.

Much of it, he knew, revolved around Ji Qiu.

After a while, Liang Yan heard the door to the lounge open. Yin Tongguang stood up and let out a curious “Huh,” before lowering his voice, mindful that Liang Yan was sleeping.

“Why are you here? I feel like I haven’t seen you all morning.”

Liang Yan kept his eyes shut, his lashes fluttering slightly. He was about to sit up when he heard another voice.

“Shh. I wandered off to explore another area this morning and got lost. I only just found the group. Is Yan Yan sleeping?” Ji Qiu’s voice was soft and cautious.

For some reason, Liang Yan suddenly didn’t feel like getting up anymore.

He decided to continue pretending to sleep.

“The air conditioning in here is pretty strong,” Ji Qiu remarked. “If you’re not careful, you might catch a cold when you wake up.”

“Oh, true,” Yin Tongguang agreed in a hushed tone. “But I couldn’t find the thermostat. I’m just wearing a sweatshirt today; otherwise, I’d drape something over him.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

“Ji Qiu, are you… cold?” Yin Tongguang asked tentatively.

“Not really.” Ji Qiu paused before adding hesitantly, “Is Yan Yan really asleep?”

“Definitely, he naps every day at noon.”

Liang Yan, holding his breath with his eyes closed: “…”

Why was he even pretending to sleep?

“If you’re not cold, could I borrow your jacket?” Yin Tongguang suggested. “You two seem pretty close.”

“…Okay.”

Liang Yan could distinctly hear the struggle in Ji Qiu’s tone.

He wanted to say there was no need and that he wasn’t actually asleep. But since he’d already committed to the act, suddenly sitting up now wouldn’t feel right either.

A minute later, he felt someone approach, linger in front of him briefly, and then gently drape a jacket over him.

“Thanks,” Yin Tongguang said on his behalf.

“No problem, no problem. Are you playing games? Oh, I’ve played this one too…”

The two quickly found a topic to bond over and began playing a co-op game on their phones.

Liang Yan seized the opportunity, mentally estimating about five minutes before finally rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the sofa.

To his surprise, just as he moved, Ji Qiu, who had been engrossed in the game seconds earlier, bolted toward him. Snatching the jacket off Liang Yan in record time, Ji Qiu swiftly put it back on himself.

Liang Yan raised an eyebrow. “…Are you cold?”

“Oh, you’re awake, Yan Yan!” Yin Tongguang glanced up from his game and said cheerfully, “Perfect timing; it’s about time to head back anyway. By the way, Ji Qiu just draped his jacket over you…”

Turning around mid-sentence, Yin noticed that the jacket, which had been on Liang Yan moments ago, was now snugly back on Ji Qiu. Blinking in confusion, he stammered, “Huh? You put it back on already? That fast?”

“Y-Yeah,” Ji Qiu replied with an awkward laugh. “It’s a bit chilly, haha.”

Ji Qiu began inching toward the door, clearly flustered. “Well, you two go ahead. I’ll… catch up in a bit.”

Before Yin Tongguang could say anything, Liang Yan cut in coldly.

“Wait.”

“!” Ji Qiu froze at the door, panic written all over his face.

“Take off your jacket and hand it to me,” Liang Yan said, arms crossed, giving Ji Qiu a once-over before continuing.

“!!!” Ji Qiu instantly looked like he was facing a mortal threat, tensing up like a startled husky.

Liang Yan ignored him and stepped forward.

“!!!!” The husky-classmate instinctively retreated a step, clutching the front of his jacket with one hand while gripping the door handle with the other.

Without hesitation, he flung the door open and bolted, his voice trembling as he shouted back:

“—Don’t come any closer!!!”

[mfn]You can support me if you like my translations by leaving a comment below, or by sending me a Ko-fi. Thank you and Enjoy reading! ❤️ -TL: Ysiad [/mfn]
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