Late autumn, evening.
At a restaurant near the school.
Suddenly, the service bell at the front desk rang. The supervisor, who was settling a bill, picked up: “Hello?”
On the other end was a clear, cheerful female voice: “Another plate of sunflower seeds, please. Thank you.”
The supervisor agreed and turned to the waiter beside her: “Has table 233 not gotten all their food yet? That’s the third plate of sunflower seeds they’ve ordered.”
The waiter responsible for that private room hurriedly shook her head. “Everything’s definitely been served. I triple-checked. Nothing’s missing!”
The supervisor responded with a thoughtful hum and didn’t press further. “Alright, go serve it… maybe that table just really loves sunflower seeds.”
The waiter, sighing inwardly, carried over another plate, adjusted her professional smile, and walked toward private room 233.
It wasn’t surprising that the supervisor was suspicious. The waiter herself also found it baffling. The guests in that room had seemed totally normal when they arrived—actually, they were all quite attractive. That’s why she had volunteered to take that table.
But ever since the door closed…
The waiter closed her eyes briefly—things had gotten weird inside.
Through the door, she could hear occasional sobbing, muffled crying, the crunching of sunflower seeds, and someone trying to mediate with a “Brother Liang, let it go, let it go.” It was all very bizarre.
The most confusing part was that every time her curiosity nearly overwhelmed her and she knocked on the door, the room would instantly fall silent. A second later, a barely stifled female voice would say “Come in”—and upon entering, she’d find the four guests sitting upright and proper, looking gorgeous and harmonious.
But the moment she closed the door and walked a few steps away, clattering and crashing noises would erupt again from inside.
“Waaaahhh—”
“Brother Liang, seriously, let it go—!”
The poor waitress patted her chest in alarm.
Was this… some underworld boss turf war?
But the guests didn’t look like that at all.
And who the hell was this terrifying “Brother Liang”?
She quietly shut the door, deciding she didn’t want to know anything more. Some truths are better left unknown.
Twenty minutes later, Lai Qiutong asked the front desk for another plate of sunflower seeds.
This time it was milky-flavored. Not bad.
She happily started cracking them open.
Her expression was like Jia Baoyu encouraging Qingwen to tear a fan, glowing with joy as if saying: Tear it more, tear it louder.
Yin Tongguang, finally tired of trying to talk sense into people, sat down and started dipping things into the hotpot.
Liang Yan leisurely sipped her fruit juice and said to Yin Tongguang, “Don’t be polite. Qiuqiu’s paying. If it’s not enough, order more.”
Next to her, Ji Qiu held his bowl, looking pitiful. “Mm-hmm.”
Yin Tongguang stared at Ji Qiu, his face momentarily frozen. “Oh… oh.”
Liang Yan finished her juice and put the cup down. “That’s pretty much everything. Do you have any more questions?”
Ji Qiu, very perceptively, refilled Liang Yan’s juice glass. “Mm-hmm-mm.”
Yin Tongguang felt like the world had turned surreal.
Just one hour ago, he found out the cutest little Omega in school… was actually an Alpha.
And more importantly, that this Alpha was dating his roommate.
No, that wasn’t the real kicker.
The real kicker was that he had witnessed a brutal beatdown. He never imagined his usually indifferent roommate could be so violent!
Pinching! Twisting! Stomping!
That Omega—no, Alpha now—was running around wailing: “Yanyan, I was wrong! I’ll never do it again!”
Apologizing once or twice would’ve been enough, but then, just after they all sat down, Ji Qiu had to wail again, “Next time I won’t sneak a kiss while in heat!!”
Liang Yan, who had just sat down, immediately turned red. Her voice dropped to a cold pitch in an attempt to cover the embarrassment: “Hmm??”
Yin Tongguang closed his eyes.
He suddenly felt that Ji Qiu probably deserved that beating.
Sins, sins.
But thinking back to how Liang Yan’s expression had grown livelier recently, maybe Ji Qiu’s arrival wasn’t such a bad thing.
He also remembered how Liang Yan used to suffer under the effects of suppressants…
If I had my own Alpha… this problem could probably be solved too.
He stared at the fatty beef rolls in the pot and suddenly lost his appetite.
After Ji Qiu endured a second round of brutal punishment, a temporary ceasefire was called. Yin Tongguang took the chance to speak up: “Um, I… I won’t tell anyone about this.”
He was just really curious about why Ji Qiu had done all of this.
Liang Yan was silent for a moment.
But Ji Qiu, seemingly unbothered, said, “If Yanyan doesn’t mind, it’s fine to tell Tongguang. He’s your roommate, after all.”
And so, before the third round of beatings could begin, Yin Tongguang was let in on the whole story behind Ji Qiu pretending to be an Omega.
As for the matter of Ji Yang, Ji Qiu glossed over it with the simplest explanation, but even that left Yin Tongguang stunned. He didn’t want to look at the nearby Lai Qiutong, who was calmly cracking sunflower seeds, with pity or sympathy.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m really fine. I’m just probably a few years older than you expected. Just don’t think I’m too old, and we’re good.”
Yin Tongguang politely offered a smile in return.
“Alright, alright,” Ji Qiu grinned, “just take this meal as my way of making up for keeping it from you for so long. Don’t hold back—milk me for all I’m worth!”
Lai Qiutong leaned over and joined in, and just like that, the matter settled in the hearts of the four of them.
…Although Yin Tongguang was still super curious about what exactly happened during Ji Qiu’s rut.
They said Alpha ruts were scary—what if Ji Qiu had given in to his violent instincts and forcefully kissed Yanyan? And now he was crying and apologizing because he’d sobered up?
Yin Tongguang found that theory highly plausible and nodded to himself.
But what tugged more at his heart now was Lai Qiutong, the one who used to feel so out of reach.
He suddenly felt a strong urge to stand beside them, come what may.
It took the group nearly twice as long as usual to finish the hotpot. But by the time they walked out of the restaurant, the shared secret in their hearts had also turned into a shared goal.
Yin Tongguang might not excel in many things, but when it came to gossip and digging up information, he was top-tier.
His chest felt tight with emotion—he wanted to comfort someone, but didn’t know how to begin.
Thankfully, Lai Qiutong gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go first. Let those two argue it out.”
Only when Lai Qiutong pulled him away did Yin Tongguang truly feel it—his roommate was really in a relationship now.
He looked at Lai Qiutong walking beside him. The usually talkative girl was unusually quiet, and in the end, didn’t say a single word.
He swore to himself: he would help her. And he would help that kindhearted Omega, too.
—
The other two finished paying and walked back to campus under the moonlight, one in front, the other trailing behind.
Liang Yan had stretched his limbs all evening—well, mostly it was Ji Qiu begging for punishment. Glancing at the Alpha now with a blissful expression on his face, Liang Yan began to wonder if he’d actually gone too easy on him.
Still, there had been two others present, and most of the conversation had been about KB. Plus, Alphas were especially sensitive during their ruts, so Yin Tongguang hadn’t been able to bring it up directly.
“Yanyan?” Ji Qiu pulled his coat tighter and looked at Liang Yan, who had suddenly stopped in front. “What’s wrong?”
Liang Yan caught the movement. “Cold?”
Ji Qiu had only acted on instinct. He was an Alpha after all, and his constitution should’ve been much stronger than an Omega’s. But he still seized the opportunity, nodding slightly and then extending his hand.
Quick, quick, quick—put my hand in your pocket.
Liang Yan paused for a second, turned around—and in the last moment, took Ji Qiu’s hand.
Omega hands were slightly smaller than Alpha ones, and Liang Yan had been raised pampered since birth. His fingers were pale, soft, and carried a faint warmth.
Ji Qiu knew Liang Yan wasn’t mad anymore.
Under the dim streetlights, Ji Qiu followed behind, letting Liang Yan pull him along. Amused, he started stepping on Liang Yan’s shadow, playing as they walked.
“The rut thing,” after walking a while, Ji Qiu felt the palm holding his start to sweat slightly. Liang Yan seemed to think for a moment before speaking, “When did you first realize it?”
What he really wanted to ask was: When did you start liking me?
But that was too straightforward—he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Liang Yan recalled what Ji Qiu had said on the rooftop during his confession: ‘The first time I smelled your pheromones, I couldn’t help but want to get close to you.’ His expression shifted slightly, and he carefully pushed down the flutter in his chest.
“When you showed up,” Ji Qiu said after thinking about it. “I was feeling pretty dizzy back then, but once you came, I couldn’t bear to pass out…”
Finally got the chance to be close to you—how could I let myself forget a second of it?
“As for today,” Liang Yan said, and though he had kept his expression under control, his face still flushed a soft red, “I didn’t mean to say you shouldn’t be around me during your rut…”
He paused, realizing that didn’t come out right, fumbled for a moment, then tried to rephrase: “No, I mean, I didn’t care whether or not you were in rut…”
Still not quite right.
Liang Yan suddenly found himself unsure how to say what he truly meant.
As he struggled, he noticed their shadows, cast by the moonlight, had suddenly overlapped.
He only felt a soft pressure on his lips. The two shadows quickly separated again.
Ji Qiu just smiled faintly, and finished the sentence Liang Yan hadn’t been able to complete:
“I know.”
“I won’t steal kisses anymore, no matter when it is,” Ji Qiu said, gently brushing a finger across the corner of Liang Yan’s lips. His eyes shone with a tenderness even brighter than the moonlight.
—
Back to the present.
Ever since Yin Tongguang found out about Ji Qiu’s secondary gender, he had started looking at Ji Qiu’s fanbase with a trace of pity.
And he often mumbled quietly in his heart.
For example, today Ji Qiu had come over to audit another class. Yin Tongguang had arrived late and couldn’t get their usual seats. The group ended up in the middle rows, occasionally overhearing students gossiping behind them.
“Qiuqiu!! Qiuqiu is so cute!!!”
—Would you still think he’s cute if you knew he’s an Alpha?
“Qiuqiu! Uwu! I’ll be your mom!”
—Do you realize you already have a daughter-in-law?
“Qiuqiu! I think… I could…”
—Heh, don’t even bother. He might be packing more than you are.
“Xiao Qiu is too adorable, I wonder what kind of Alpha is worthy of him!”
—Nah, a double-A couple has no future.
Some were even talking about Liang Yan.
“I mean, honestly, Qiuqiu and Liang Yan are kinda cute together. You can tell they’re really good friends.”
—Sure, if getting beat up daily is your idea of friendship.
“Ah! Crying again today over the tragic beauty that is Yan-Qiu!”
—Sigh… this person isn’t wrong, just got the roles reversed, that’s all.
Yin Tongguang looked over with heartfelt sympathy.
Now burdened with this secret, Yin Tongguang felt like he was carrying Nezha in his belly—three years in, and still couldn’t let it out.
Too hard. It was just too hard.
[mfn]If you enjoy my translations, you can show your support by leaving a comment or donating to my Ko-fi. It will be much appreciated. Thank you! [/mfn]
