Although the day had been chaotic, Ji Qiu’s true identity managed to stay under wraps for now.
Liang Yan returned to the dormitory. Yin Tongguang immediately noticed that his roommate’s mood was much better than it had been in the afternoon. He wondered if a simple rainstorm could really improve someone’s mood.
He didn’t ask, though. If Liang Yan wanted to talk, he would tell him.
Liang Yan greeted Yin Tongguang, then entered the bathroom and turned on the hot water, finally able to wash away the fatigue of the day.
It was also a chance to process the chaos of the day.
Ji Qiu was an Alpha.
And not just any Alpha—one with a high pheromone level and an exceptionally high compatibility rate with him.
What’s more, Ji Qiu had marked him temporarily.
Liang Yan recalled what Ji Qiu had said earlier: that there were some things he couldn’t reveal.
As he pieced together the things he had seen and heard recently, a somewhat absurd thought emerged in his mind.
Was it possible…
Warm water streamed over his throat as he tilted his head back, droplets from the shower making him squint slightly.
Ji Qiu had access to a KB pheromone sampler, disappeared for an entire day at the factory, and later admitted to having drawn blood…
With a sharp realization, Liang Yan hurriedly wrapped himself in a bathrobe and stepped out of the bathroom. He nearly ran into Yin Tongguang, who was sitting there snacking on sunflower seeds and animatedly gossiping.
Yin Tongguang was startled. “Liang Yan, you finished your shower so quickly this time?”
Using a towel to roughly dry his hair, Liang Yan hesitated before asking, “Tongguang, can I ask you something?”
Yin Tongguang clapped his hands after finishing a bag of sunflower seeds and confidently replied, “Sure, if I know the answer, I’ll tell you. If I don’t, I’ll help you find out. What gossip are you after?”
After a pause, Liang Yan seemed unsure how to start and decided to lead with something he’d heard before. “That KB Pharmaceuticals incident you mentioned—about inhibitors causing deaths. Can you tell me more about it?”
Meanwhile, due to the sterile room being requisitioned, the surgery originally scheduled for the next day had been postponed to the following week.
It was also time for Liang Yan’s routine visit home. After informing Yin Tongguang, he left for his family’s house.
As one of Liang Yan’s few friends, Liang Chen had always been grateful to Yin Tongguang and had repeatedly invited him over. However, after one visit, Yin Tongguang had refused to return, saying, “Your house isn’t suited for someone as chatty as me. I’d suffocate there.”
While eating at the family dining table, Liang Yan absentmindedly recalled that the last chatty person to visit his house had not only been welcomed but also highly favored by his father.
Liang Yan’s rare distraction during dinner caught his mother’s attention. “Are tonight’s dishes not to your liking? Or is something wrong at school?” she asked curiously.
Snapping out of it, Liang Yan felt annoyed at himself for letting his thoughts drift to Ji Qiu again. He quickly ate a couple of bites to cover his embarrassment and shook his head.
Liang Chen, who was sitting nearby peeling crab legs for his wife and child, commented, “Asking him is pointless. If Liang Yan has something to say, he’ll say it himself.”
His mother chuckled warmly and nodded. “True. Liang Yan has never been one to cause us worry.”
The table fell quiet again. After finishing his meal, Liang Yan lingered for a while before finally asking, “Dad, you mentioned last time that Ji Qiu was working on a project with you, right?”
Surprised, Liang Chen felt a bit gratified that his son was bringing up Ji Qiu. “Yes, that’s right. Why do you ask?”
Liang Chen briefly mentioned the project title. “It’s a government-assigned project—not classified, so I can tell you a bit. What do you want to know?”
Liang Yan was slightly disappointed to find the project had nothing to do with what he had been guessing. “Nothing specific. I was just curious which floor of the new lab building you’re working on.”
Not expecting such a simple question, Liang Chen still answered, “The sixth floor. We typically use it on Thursdays and Fridays, but sometimes on weekends if the observation schedule requires.”
Liang Yan nodded. “Got it.”
The sixth floor.
But Liang Yan distinctly remembered seeing Ji Qiu in the eighth-floor lab—the one with fingerprint-locked doors.
Liang Chen noticed his son seemed unusually distracted, even more so than usual, but chose not to interrupt.
After a few minutes, Liang Yan finally spoke again:
“By the way, Dad, last week we went to the KB factory for our practical session.”
Liang Chen froze for a moment, seemingly reluctant to discuss this particular topic. “That’s normal. It’s part of the semester’s curriculum—going there once is good for the students.”
The father and son casually chatted for a bit more, but Liang Yan noticed that Liang Chen deliberately avoided mentioning KB in any detail. Deciding not to push further, Liang Yan shifted topics:
“Dad, I want to check something at the archive tomorrow. Do you have a key?”
Liang Chen hesitated but seemed relieved that Liang Yan wasn’t pursuing questions about KB. “You don’t need a key. Just let the archive staff know, and they’ll let you in. …What are you looking for?”
Liang Yan made up an excuse about some academic materials. His father didn’t suspect anything and gave his approval.
—–
The next day, Liang Yan found himself in a quiet corner of the archive, searching for information. Finally, he came across the file Yin Tongguang had mentioned.
It was about the person who had died in the KB inhibitor incident.
“…Why does the school have his file? Oh, right, the deceased was one of our school’s alumni. The case was documented, but his death wasn’t related to the school. It was recorded as a severe adverse reaction to the inhibitor’s side effects, resulting in fatal asphyxiation.”
Liang Yan flipped through the file, eventually opening to a slightly dusty page.
The file briefly documented the individual’s life:
“Name: Ji Yang
Age: 21
Gender: Male, Omega
Major: Clinical Medicine, Class of 20XX-S”
…
His gaze traveled to the final line, written in small text:
“Cause of Death: Asphyxiation.”
Liang Yan carefully wiped the dust from the file before placing it back in its proper spot. After notifying the staff, he left the archive alone, walking back to the classroom with a pensive air.
The information he had just seen lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.
It wasn’t the name that disturbed him.
It wasn’t even the fact that the deceased was an Omega from the elite S class.
It was the photo.
The person in the photo bore an uncanny resemblance to Ji Qiu, as if they had been cast from the same mold.
—Ji Yang.
Liang Yan silently repeated the unfamiliar name in his mind.
—–
The rescheduled surgical practice aligned perfectly with Ji Qiu’s preferences—it eliminated the need for him to sneak into class. Now, like the physiology course, two classes were merged for the session.
When Liang Yan arrived, most of the groups had already been formed. Ji Qiu had clearly bribed Yin Tongguang in advance. As soon as Liang Yan stepped into the classroom, Yin Tongguang excitedly waved at him. “Liang Yan, over here! Join our group!”
Yin Tongguang was thrilled—it was only thanks to Liang Yan that he had landed in such a stellar team.
Not only did the group include Liang Yan and himself, but also Ji Qiu and Lai Qiutong. It was a dream team.
Liang Yan walked over, telling himself to temporarily set aside thoughts of that name. However, the moment he saw Ji Qiu’s smiling face, he froze briefly.
The resemblance was uncanny.
Anyone who hadn’t spent much time around Ji Qiu could easily mistake the two as the same person, judging solely by the photograph.
The main difference? Ji Yang had graduated three years earlier.
“Liang Yan, you’re here!” Ji Qiu greeted him warmly. Perhaps because Liang Yan now knew his true gender, Ji Qiu behaved more respectfully, his tone far less casual than before.
Liang Yan nodded, suppressing his urge to ask questions. “Yeah.”
Lai Qiutong, busy practicing surgical knots, smiled kindly at Liang Yan, welcoming him to the group.
If Ji Qiu was an Alpha, did Lai Qiutong know?
If she knew, would she still pursue him so enthusiastically?
Liang Yan didn’t know and chose not to ask.
Though the students were still relatively inexperienced, the tasks were simple: knotting, suturing, and basic surgical techniques. Liang Yan, having practiced with video tutorials, performed so well that the teaching assistant was stunned.
“Is this really your first time? Have you done clinical work before?” the assistant repeatedly asked.
Liang Yan didn’t answer, instead glancing at Ji Qiu.
Ji Qiu’s performance was also impressive, but he seemed reluctant to showcase his skills, often keeping a low profile.
Liang Yan withdrew his gaze, lost in thought.
—–
As the session progressed, the atmosphere grew lively, especially with two classes combined. The S class students were more relaxed, while the A class students, unfamiliar with Ji Qiu and Lai Qiutong, began joking around.
“Hey, Lai Jie, stop taking notes and look at me!”
“Get lost. You’re just a Beta—what’s there to look at?”
“What’s wrong with Betas? Maybe Lai Jie doesn’t like Omegas.”
“Even so, it wouldn’t be you. Someone of Lai Jie’s caliber as an Alpha would definitely outperform you.”
Wearing a mask, Liang Yan was busy cleaning up medical waste. Hearing such brazen comments, he frowned slightly.
Lai Qiutong, visibly annoyed, responded sharply. After all, she was a woman, and while she understood there was no malicious intent, she had little patience for inappropriate jokes made in the wrong setting.
“Do you really think making dirty jokes is that fun? Aren’t you bored yet?”
The group of students immediately noticed her displeasure and laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension.
“No, no, we didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a comment—we were wrong, Lai Jie. Please don’t be upset.”
Lai Qiutong gave them a curt nod but otherwise ignored them.
Meanwhile, Ji Qiu had finished tidying up and was removing his white lab coat. Noticing that Lai Qiutong’s expression still hadn’t softened, he instinctively slipped into his usual “sweet Omega” persona. With a bright smile, he joined the conversation:
“Exactly, exactly. Let’s not talk about things like that anymore. Not just Lai Jie, but who knows? Who knows—maybe if someone else pulled theirs out, it’d be bigger than yours, too.”
The room fell into a brief silence.
“…”
“Ahaha… Xiao Qiu really has a sense of humor,” one of them offered awkwardly, attempting to keep the conversation going. Ji Qiu’s remark wasn’t exactly clever, but at least it steered the focus away from Lai Qiutong.
However, just then, Liang Yan, who had been quietly focused on his experiment, unexpectedly spoke up.
“True,” he said casually, as though he were commenting on the weather. “You never know.”
Ji Qiu froze, stunned that Liang Yan had even heard his earlier quip. “Yan Yan…”
But before Ji Qiu could continue, Liang Yan—typically stoic—did something rare: he smiled at Ji Qiu. Then, with a calm yet pointed tone, he finished the thought:
“Don’t you think so?”
Ji Qiu, who indeed was likely “bigger” than Liang Yan, was left utterly speechless.
“…”
Damn it. He had gotten too cocky and let his mouth run unchecked.
He was doomed. Again.
[mfn]If you enjoy my translations, feel free to support me by leaving a comment below or sending me a Ko-fi. Thank you, and happy reading! -TL: Ysiad ❤️ [/mfn]
