Li Feng ran into Zhen Ning in the hallway.
It was Li Feng’s third year as a manager at KYM. He had joined the team about six months after Zhen Ning had left.
The esports industry is both beautiful and ruthless. Many once-famous retired veterans are quickly forgotten, let alone someone like Zhen Ning, who had never even played in an official match as a trainee. As a result, most of the current KYM players didn’t know who he was, assuming he was just a newcomer recruited from the North American server.
Li Feng knew a little more than most. He was aware that Zhen Ning had trained here in the past and had a falling out with Yan Chengfeng a few years ago.
Even so, Li Feng understood that he was ultimately an outsider and didn’t have the right to intervene in certain matters. After all, his job was to ensure the players performed well in matches. As long as things appeared harmonious on the surface, that was enough.
When Li Feng saw Zhen Ning walking briskly, as if preoccupied, he initially had no intention of disturbing him.
But after taking a few steps, he hesitated, considering Zhen Ning’s somewhat unique situation. Finally, Li Feng turned back and called out his name.
He watched as Zhen Ning turned around.
Li Feng smiled warmly and asked, “Xiao Zhen, have you adjusted to the time difference? It’s okay to take a couple more days to rest before starting training. After all, you—”
But Zhen Ning seemed to anticipate what Li Feng was going to say. Shaking his head, he decisively cut him off.
“Li-ge1ge/gege=big brother,” Zhen Ning interrupted. “I’m fine.”
“Oh.” Li Feng chuckled awkwardly. “Well then… you go ahead and take care of your business.”
Li Feng took a deep breath and continued walking.
The moment he stepped into the training room, clearing his throat to speak, he saw Yan Chengfeng storming out with a furious expression.
Li Feng: “Hey, where are you going?”
Yan Chengfeng scowled. “To relieve myself.”
Li Feng couldn’t exactly stop him from going to the bathroom. He faltered for a moment and then waved helplessly. “Fine, go. I’ll talk to you one-on-one when you’re back.”
Yan Chengfeng left the room. Li Feng cleared his throat again, preparing to speak for the second time, when Tao Luo, holding a small water bottle, also stood up and started heading out.
Li Feng: “…No, where are you off to?”
Tao Luo blinked in confusion. “I’m going to refill my bottle.”
Li Feng pressed her back into her chair. “Just sit tight for a bit. I have something to say, and you can get it after I’m done. It’s just a few minutes—you won’t die of thirst.”
Tao Luo huffed in frustration. “Why can Yan Kitchen leave, but I can’t? You’re clearly playing favorites! Why can he relieve himself, but I can’t refill my bottle?”
Li Feng: “….”
“You’re really something,” Li Feng sighed. “It’s because this is a sensitive issue, and it’s better to talk to him privately later. Otherwise, I’m afraid things might get out of hand.”
Yan Chengfeng thought that splashing some water on his face in the bathroom might help him calm down.
However, as he stared at his reflection through the water stains on the mirror, he couldn’t stop replaying Zhen Ning’s earlier remark, “old friend,” and his calculating, overly familiar gameplay during the match that had pushed his opponent to the brink. Yan Chengfeng only felt an unprecedented irritation.
Zhen Ning was a rational and composed person; Yan Chengfeng had known this three years ago.
Back then, however, Yan Chengfeng had thought it was simply part of Zhen Ning’s personality. He believed that while Zhen Ning appeared cold and indifferent to everyone, his heart was warm.
Yan Chengfeng had also believed he held a special, irreplaceable place in Zhen Ning’s heart.
It was only later that he realized how wrong he had been. To Zhen Ning, everyone, including Yan Chengfeng, was just another passerby, all of equal weight in his life.
Zhen Ning looked like a cold yet beautiful porcelain figure, but in essence, he was more like a high-precision machine, nearly error-free.
He was too smart, whether in gameplay decisions or in life, always seeming to choose the option that maximized his own benefit.
That was why, years ago, after weighing friendship against his future, Zhen Ning had gone back on his word and left Yan Chengfeng without hesitation, walking away as if it meant nothing.
At the time, Yan Chengfeng couldn’t accept it. Yet he had managed to convince himself to understand Zhen Ning’s selfishness.
What Yan Chengfeng couldn’t understand, however, was why Zhen Ning had reappeared now, as if nothing had ever happened, just when Yan Chengfeng was on the verge of forgetting those days.
Yan Chengfeng had thought that if they ever met again, he could easily present a calm, composed front. But reality proved otherwise. As long as Zhen Ning was under the same roof—even if it was just his quiet gaze directed at him—Yan Chengfeng couldn’t help but recall every little detail of their past together.
Yan Chengfeng knew he couldn’t let it go. But he also had no intention of letting it go.
He decided to confront Zhen Ning and demand answers.
That morning at breakfast, Yan Chengfeng recalled Tao Luo glancing around the table for a long time before asking Xu Minghe, “Hey, is the new guy skipping breakfast?”
At the time, Xu Minghe had replied, “Zhen Ning’s probably still adjusting to the time difference. Li Feng told me he’s staying in the east wing. Not sure if he chose that himself or if someone assigned it to him.”
The east wing of the base was far from the dining hall and training room. While it was relatively quiet, it wasn’t the most practical choice for a player’s daily routine.
There were many rooms in the east wing, but only a few were actually used as dorms. Some were clearly for storing junk or filming equipment, while others were used for recording team videos.
It didn’t take Yan Chengfeng long to find Zhen Ning’s room. He stopped in front of the door, which was slightly ajar.
Through the gap, Yan Chengfeng saw Zhen Ning standing with his back to him in front of a desk by the window.
Zhen Ning’s head was lowered, his hands unwrapping something. Yan Chengfeng couldn’t quite make out what it was, but the faint rustling of packaging reached his ears.
The sunlight outside was bright, and a breeze stirred Zhen Ning’s soft hair. His silhouette exuded a gentle warmth, like a tranquil scene from an oil painting.
For a moment, Yan Chengfeng was lost in thought, but he quickly remembered why he was there.
Standing at the door, he debated how to begin. Should he bluntly say, “How do you even have the nerve to come back?” Or perhaps something more sarcastic, like, “So, are you planning to train for ten minutes and rest the entire day from now on?”
Just as he was deciding, Zhen Ning suddenly turned to the side.
At first, Yan Chengfeng didn’t register what Zhen Ning was doing.
It wasn’t until Zhen Ning moved his body slightly that Yan Chengfeng clearly saw what he was holding in his right hand.
The moment the realization hit, it felt as though time froze for an instant. Then, a loud buzzing exploded in Yan Chengfeng’s mind.
It was a syringe.
A small syringe filled with transparent liquid, its needle thin and sharp.
Before Yan Chengfeng could process what the liquid might be, he saw Zhen Ning lower his eyes, tilt his head to the side, and lift his empty left hand to touch the back of his neck.
There was no emotion in Zhen Ning’s eyes.
He gazed out the window briefly, then lowered his head and raised his right hand. With precise, practiced movements, he pierced the needle into the skin at the back of his neck.
There was not a single moment of hesitation in his movements. It was as if the steps had been repeated so many times that they had become second nature, requiring no extra thought to execute.
The injection was over in seconds. As Zhen Ning withdrew the needle, bringing a small trail of blood beads with it, Yan Chengfeng saw Zhen Ning avert his gaze, blinking with a faint expression of weariness.
Zhen Ning lowered his head, staring at the now-empty syringe in his hand for a moment. Then, he lifted his gaze, and his eyes landed on the door, locking directly with Yan Chengfeng’s.
Yan Chengfeng: “You—”
Zhen Ning’s pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively took a step back, his brows furrowing, and said in a hoarse voice, “Don’t come over.”
Naturally, Yan Chengfeng didn’t listen. He strode into the room, his eyes fixed on Zhen Ning’s face, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What are you doing?”
Seeing such a near-panicked expression on Zhen Ning’s face was an extremely rare occurrence, but Yan Chengfeng was in no mood to appreciate it.
“What was that?” Yan Chengfeng’s throat felt unbearably dry. He stared intently at Zhen Ning, took a deep breath, and repeated, “What exactly were you just doing?”
Zhen Ning remained silent.
After a long pause, he lowered his head, raised the used syringe, and placed it back into its packaging. Turning around, he bent slightly and tossed it into the trash bin in the corner.
He straightened up and stood with his back to Yan Chengfeng for a moment before softly asking, “Did Li Feng not tell you?”
“What the hell does anything Li Feng said have to do with me?” Yan Chengfeng’s voice trembled slightly, something even he hadn’t noticed. “Do you think you’re some kind of big deal? I don’t have the time or the obligation to understand your situation. You think—”
Yan Chengfeng suddenly found himself unable to continue.
Zhen Ning turned around and looked at the expression on Yan Chengfeng’s face for a long moment before nodding. “You’ve already figured it out,” he said.
Yan Chengfeng’s breath caught sharply.
Then he heard Zhen Ning utter a single word: “Suppressants.”
“I was injecting a suppressant just now.” Zhen Ning looked away and said after a brief silence, “Because half a year after going to America, I discovered I had differentiated into an omega.”
Even though Yan Chengfeng had already faintly guessed the answer, hearing Zhen Ning say it out loud still left his brain blank for a moment.
Since Zhen Ning hadn’t had the chance to reapply a blocker patch after the injection, his pheromones leaked into the small space, gradually spreading.
It was a rare and special scent of sweet apricots—or perhaps sour apricots, though the natural sweetness of omega pheromones added a subtle sweetness to the tangy smell.
Several things that had previously puzzled Yan Chengfeng—why Zhen Ning, after three years, hadn’t grown taller but had become so much thinner; or the fleeting heart palpitations he felt when they stood close in the training room—all suddenly became glaringly clear.
In disbelief, Yan Chengfeng muttered, “B-but you weren’t…”
“The doctor said that the tests at birth are only meant to provide a general prediction for future gender differentiation. They’re not 100% accurate. Cases like mine, where someone differentiates into an omega during their secondary differentiation, aren’t actually uncommon.”
Zhen Ning’s tone was so calm it sounded as though he were recounting someone else’s story. “So, just now, I was doing what any ordinary differentiated omega would do—injecting something essential for my daily life.”
His expression remained calm, like he had fully accepted this reality.
But Yan Chengfeng’s brain had completely shut down. All the arguments and questions he had prepared at the door dissolved into a muddled mess.
The shock of the revelation had thrown his mind into utter disarray, but he was determined not to let Zhen Ning catch a glimpse of his astonishment.
So, even though he was reeling internally, Yan Chengfeng’s stubbornness wouldn’t let him back down. He stared at Zhen Ning’s face and finally forced out a stiff, “You…”
After a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice rasped as he said, “You deserve it.”
Zhen Ning remained quiet for a while before replying, “Maybe.”
“You might find it hard to process, but over the past few years, I’ve come to terms with this new identity,” he said. “Though it has brought me some troubles I never anticipated. And since you’re here now, I’ll just say it outright.”
“Yan Chengfeng, you still can’t control your emotions.”
Zhen Ning continued, “And because you’re an alpha, you probably don’t realize this, but your pheromone levels fluctuate with your emotions.”
“Your pheromone concentration… is far too high for me right now. Psychologically, physically, and in every sense of the word, it’s unbearable.”
The sunlight was bright, and Zhen Ning’s skin was a near-translucent white. He looked out the window, his eyelashes trembling slightly, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.
Tiny dust particles floated soundlessly in the air. Yan Chengfeng stared blankly at Zhen Ning’s face, his thoughts adrift.
Time seemed to slow to an unbearable crawl at that moment, and Yan Chengfeng’s thoughts dissolved into the dust, suspended weightlessly in the air.
Suddenly, he remembered the seventeen-year-old Zhen Ning and the seventeen-year-old version of himself on a similarly sunny and warm winter day years ago, on an ordinary afternoon in the training room.
“I’ll show you how to play a brainless hero like Afro. Come here and watch.”
He saw his seventeen-year-old self casually hook an arm around Zhen Ning’s neck, speaking with a carefree tone. “Ah, move a bit closer. How are you supposed to see anything from that far away? Why are you keeping a distance from me?”
“Come closer… yeah, that’s it. Don’t worry; the closer, the better. What’s the need to act polite between us?”
“Keep your eyes peeled! After all, you’re being taught how to lane by the future Mianli champion skin owner. Missing this will be the regret of your lifetime…”
“…”
The dust eventually fell due to gravity, just like time slipping irreversibly away. And with that, Yan Chengfeng’s memory ended abruptly.
Times had changed; everything and everyone was different.
When his vision cleared again, Yan Chengfeng saw Zhen Ning standing in front of him, quietly watching him.
“I know you hate me,” he heard Zhen Ning say. “So if possible, please try to keep some distance from me from now on.”
Author’s note:
Yan Kitchen: You wish!!
I don’t think you want to keep distance then how will he have his wife?