Jiang Xinglan was completely stunned by what he saw in front of him, and whatever he had planned to say was scared right back down his throat.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen these two Omegas getting along well, but…
Holding hands was one thing, but this atmosphere—it didn’t feel quite right.
Could it really be…?
Jiang Xinglan felt his thoughts were heading into dangerous territory. But as a law student, his natural critical thinking kicked in, and he quickly analyzed the situation in his mind. In the end, he chose to accept it.
Just Omegas. Nothing serious.
No need to be so paranoid.
Jiang Xinglan calmed himself down.
But when he saw Ji Qiu again, that sentence he’d said before, as if enchanted, echoed in his ears:
“He likes me.”
Ji Qiu clearly hadn’t forgotten that line either. Afraid that Liang Yan would sense something off, he gripped their joined hands even tighter. Then, overcompensating, he used both hands to grab Liang Yan’s arm and swayed it side to side:
“Ah! We meet again! Hello~”
Liang Yan had no idea why the Alpha next to him was suddenly acting cute, nor did he understand when he and Jiang Xinglan had become so familiar. Still, he nodded politely toward Jiang Xinglan.
“Mm.”
Yin Tongguang was watching all this with great interest.
He didn’t know exactly what had happened between Jiang Xinglan and Ji Qiu, but judging by Ji Qiu’s reaction—that possessiveness!
He almost wanted to take out his phone and start a livestream, send the link to Lai Qiutong, and title it:
“Click to watch a live love triangle showdown!”
So they could enjoy the drama together.
He’d really been dying for some gossip these days.
Jiang Xinglan took two steps forward, and Ji Qiu finally started to panic a little.
He could play around and act cheeky, sure, but he still wasn’t sure whether Liang Yan was okay with making their relationship public—especially since Ji Qiu’s secondary gender status wasn’t convenient to reveal yet.
He reluctantly prepared to let go of Liang Yan’s hand, but just as he loosened his grip, Liang Yan grabbed his hand back.
“Yeah,” Liang Yan said calmly, “we’re pretty close.”
In that moment, Ji Qiu felt the warmth of spring return to the earth.
So what if they were “just good sisters”?!
Even if he knew he’d probably get beaten up after today—it was worth it!
“Wanna eat together?” Jiang Xinglan adjusted his tie, seemingly accepting—for now—the idea that the two Omegas were just very close, and asked politely.
Still riding the high of Liang Yan’s affection, Ji Qiu’s brain was lagging and he almost blurted out “yes.”
But Yin Tongguang knew: his time to shine had come.
He quickly shoved aside his friend and rushed over to Liang Yan, bouncing over energetically and forcefully inserting himself between the two.
Then…
He hooked his arms around both of theirs.
Just like that, what had already been an awkward scene suddenly became even more awkward—with Yin Tongguang turning it into a so-called “harmonious three-person friendship group.”
But he knew his sacrifice was necessary!
To avoid anyone suspecting a hidden romance, Yin Tongguang believed he had gone above and beyond.
With one arm hooked through Liang Yan’s and the other holding Ji Qiu’s, he cheerfully said:
“You guys could’ve just waited for me at the school gate! No need to come all the way to find me.”
Liang Yan thought: When did I ever say I was coming to find you?
But he understood Yin Tongguang’s intention, so he simply replied, “It was on the way.”
Ji Qiu was beyond grateful to Xiao Yin for pulling him out of that emotional battlefield. He quickly turned to Jiang Xinglan with a smile,
“We’ll head off now—we already made dinner plans. See you!”
Jiang Xinglan, having no idea what had just happened and being completely dragged along by the situation, could only respond:
“…Alright.”
But why did that guy look at him with pity in his eyes?
In any case, his upbringing wouldn’t allow him to keep pushing after being politely declined. After a moment of thought, he accepted it.
“I’ll be heading back too. See you around.”
Ji Qiu nodded enthusiastically like a bobblehead.
“Oh, by the way,” Jiang Xinglan suddenly remembered and turned to Liang Yan, “I had dinner at Uncle Liang’s house last weekend. He mentioned he hadn’t seen you in a while.”
Liang Yan paused. He remembered that he was originally supposed to go home last weekend, but ended up going to KB with Ji Qiu instead. His father had said he was having old friends over, but Liang Yan hadn’t made it back.
So that guest was… Jiang Xinglan?
“I had something come up last week and didn’t make it home,” Liang Yan explained.
His explanation made Jiang Xinglan feel like he’d overstepped. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but the words had just slipped out.
“I didn’t mean anything. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Liang Yan replied casually, especially since he was flanked by two walking headaches. “We’ll head off first.”
The two “headaches” immediately breathed a sigh of relief and, one on each side, affectionately turned and left with him.
Jiang Xinglan watched the three of them quickly turn around and walk away in a very bizarre posture, and for once, his usually rational mind was filled with doubt.
Is this how students at their school normally interact?
He set aside his suspicions and turned to head back.
Earlier, he hadn’t brought up their fathers on purpose just to force a closer connection. He simply couldn’t find anything else to say and didn’t want to just stand there silently watching him leave.
Looking down at his shadow, he suddenly felt his bow tie was a little too tight.
It wasn’t that he felt no regret — if that were the case, he wouldn’t have clumsily grasped for another topic, ending up making things awkward for both sides.
But to say he was heartbroken… not really.
It felt more like… he had just temporarily lost an Omega who was a very good match for him.
Besides, the other party didn’t even have an Alpha yet. He still had a chance.
Jiang Xinglan imagined the possibility: If, after trying hard, I still can’t catch up to Liang Yan, I don’t think I’ll be too devastated.
After all, love between Alphas and Omegas could be quite ironic. It might be better to seek someone compatible over the long course of life — that was the more reasonable approach.
With that thought, he suddenly felt a little better.
“Senior Jiang?” Just as Jiang Xinglan was lost in thoughts about compatibility and suitability, someone called out to him.
Behind him stood a girl in a dress. Despite the cold weather, she acted like she couldn’t feel it — standing in the chilly wind with bare legs, her knees slightly red from the cold.
He recognized her. She was an Omega junior who had confessed to him twice before.
Jiang Xinglan subtly furrowed his brows, but his smile remained proper and gentle: “What’s the matter?”
Unlike clinical medicine, the political and law department had relatively more Omegas, and someone like Jiang Xinglan was particularly popular. This girl was one of the more boldly persistent ones.
“I-I wanted to ask if you’d have dinner with me,” the girl said, with delicate braids by her temples and long hair flowing behind her, looking gentle and pure.
But Jiang Xinglan only offered a polite smile: “I’m sorry.”
The girl looked down, clearly disheartened.
Jiang Xinglan sighed lightly. “I don’t think you need to waste your time on me…”
Biting her lip, the girl looked up, her eyes full of grievance and unwillingness. “Why not?”
His answer was the same as the previous two times: “We’re not a good match.”
Her eyes turned red. “But you’ve never even given me a chance — how can you say we’re ‘not a good match’ without even seeing if it could work?”
Jiang Xinglan felt a headache coming on. “Sorry. But I hope from now on, you’ll spend your time on someone more interesting than me.”
The Omega didn’t say another word, only looking at him several times before quickly walking away.
Jiang Xinglan felt like nothing was going smoothly tonight.
He had first invited the Omega he liked and got rejected, then turned down an Omega he didn’t like himself.
He wasn’t really concerned about that girl’s background, nor did he want to understand what kind of person she was.
He just felt—it wasn’t a good match.
But why wasn’t she suitable? And why was Liang Yan suitable?
Subconsciously, he couldn’t give an answer.
Meanwhile, the “chaotic trio” finally split up after they were out of Jiang Xinglan’s sight, each going their own way.
“Yin Tongguang.” Liang Yan suddenly called out, using his full name.
Yin suddenly felt something was off. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just felt like… you’re becoming more and more like Ji Qiu.”
That was Liang Yan’s honest opinion.
He had just casually said it, but Ji Qiu suddenly shot up like he was startled: “Yanyan, I didn’t teach him how to pretend to be an Omega!! I’m innocent!”
Liang Yan: “…I didn’t say that. Can you not be so dramatic?”
But Ji Qiu looked like a bamboo rat that had foreseen its tragic fate, flailing its four limbs in despair: “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it! Don’t hit me!”
Yin Tongguang quietly slipped away alone.
He was just a warrior in charge of de-escalating tense scenes—but he couldn’t bear to watch such a tragic spectacle.
As for what kind of punishment Ji Qiu eventually received, he had no desire to find out.
Since Yin Tongguang agreed to help with the KB inhibitor issue, a few days later the four of them set aside time to meet in an empty classroom and discuss their next steps.
It was Yin Tongguang’s first time participating in something like this, and he was beyond excited. He brought snacks and drinks like they were going on a picnic, saying he was worried they’d get hungry mid-discussion.
Liang Yan was holding a caramel milk-flavored lollipop, suddenly feeling a bit dazed.
The Alpha who was now drawing detailed pharmacological diagrams had, at the start of the semester, tricked him by pretending to be a weirdo Omega using caramel-scented pheromone perfume.
When Ji Qiu focused on something, he always looked more serious than others. Since it was Yin’s first time joining, Ji Qiu had to explain some of the details again. He pulled out several sheets of draft paper to compare notes, meticulously summarizing the differences between inhibitors 2.0 and 3.0—from receptors to target organs, and their effects on the body.
He sat by the window. The lights in the classroom were off, and the weather had turned cold. Ji Qiu wore a simple scarf around his neck, and only half of his perfect jawline was visible. But with his long lashes and the pen in hand, his side profile was undeniably attractive.
Liang Yan pursed his lips and stared for a while before finally looking away.
He couldn’t help but overthink things.
If not for the situation with Ji Yang, would Ji Qiu even be attending the same school?
Or, if he weren’t the dean’s son—if his father hadn’t asked Ji Qiu to look after him—how would things have played out?
And if he didn’t share a similar physical condition to Ji Yang, what kind of relationship would he and Ji Qiu have now?
“Yanyan, Yanyan?” Lost in his thoughts, Liang Yan didn’t even realize Ji Qiu had stopped writing and was now staring at him.
Liang Yan abruptly pulled himself back to reality. The person who’d just been circling in his mind was suddenly magnified in front of him. “I’m fine, just zoned out for a moment.”
“Mm, that’s good.” Ji Qiu seemed to believe him and was about to get back to writing. Liang Yan also let out a breath of relief—when suddenly a small shadow appeared in front of him, and before he could react, he felt a quick kiss on his right cheek.
Ji Qiu’s eyes curved into a charming arc as he said, “Good, then I’m fine too.”
Yin Tongguang, realizing what just happened: “??? Wait, Xiao Qiu, wasn’t that way too sudden?!”
“Want me and Xiao Yin to step out and give you two some alone time?” Lai Qiutong said bluntly. “You’re both Alphas, I get it.”
“I’m not an Alpha, Sister Lai—!!” Yin Tongguang wailed.
Seeing Liang Yan’s face turning awkward and flushed, Ji Qiu cleared his throat and said, “Okay, okay, I’ll stop messing around. Let’s get back to it.”
Liang Yan looked at Ji Qiu, suddenly feeling like all the thoughts he’d been having just now didn’t matter anymore.
“The problem we still have is that we don’t know how many Omegas share the same physical condition as Yanyan,” Ji Qiu summarized. “KB dominates the market. Other companies’ inhibitors are pretty much the same as 2.0—the main difference is that 2.0 has higher purity and acts faster on the C4 antagonistic receptor. That’s why Yanyan doesn’t respond well to other brands, and though the KB one works, it causes severe side effects.”
He went over the pharmacological mechanisms of both inhibitors again, then concluded.
“Maybe we can start looking around the university district?” Yin Tongguang scratched his head and suggested. “I know people with similar constitutions are rare, but if we find even one, it could help build a case to overturn 3.0.”
He continued, “There’s that university forum, right? Where people usually post about group events or ride-sharing—maybe we can post there and ask if any similar Omegas exist…”
“Sounds doable,” Ji Qiu agreed. “If we go to the media right away, and since some of our evidence can’t be disclosed, they might not pursue it. So we might as well take our chances and try this first.”
Without wasting time, Ji Qiu registered an alternate account and started writing a forum post.
Ten minutes later, his masterpiece was complete.
[Help Post] Any Omega students out there? We have a little question for you—if you’ve faced similar issues, feel free to reach out~
In the post, Ji Qiu used an overly dramatic and tea-like tone to describe a “tragic Omega” who suffers embarrassing (his words) side effects from using inhibitors. Yet he’s strong and determined to fight his Omega nature to the end! By a twist of fate, he meets his destined Alpha and finally escapes the tyranny of inhibitors! But as a kind and gentle Omega who can’t bear to see others suffer like him, he decides to seek out other Omegas with the same symptoms—he wants to care for them, protect them, face the side effects together, and find the cause. Why? Because he is a medical school Omega with a heart full of love!
Yin Tongguang: “……”
He gave Ji Qiu a complicated look. “You’re really gonna post this? I’ll go tell my forum mod friend not to delete it by mistake.”
Ji Qiu nodded seriously. “Yes! That’s exactly the plan!”
Liang Yan finished reading Ji Qiu’s post: “………………”
Oh well, the point got across.
Can’t exactly hint directly at KB anyway.
Lai Qiutong skimmed the post and nodded. “It’s well-written. Just… the ending feels like a message from the ‘Omega Welfare and Protection Society.’”
Ji Qiu was totally in character and replied dramatically, “Of course! We fragile Omegas need to be nurtured with love—ow ow ow Yanyan that hurts!”
In front of everyone, he got his thigh pinched red by the only Omega present who was anything but fragile—tears welling up in his eyes.
Yin Tongguang watched the scene unfold and suddenly realized that he, too, had become a little emotionally numb.
Before, he might’ve been shocked by how fierce and violent his roommate could be. But now… he actually felt like clapping on the sidelines.
Sigh.
He wrote in his little notebook:
It’s over. I’ve become the very thing I hated the most. My heart is full of dread.
Three days after the post was made, there was no response—like it had sunk into the ocean. It didn’t even come close to the popularity of the internal medical university forum thread titled “Are Yan and Qiu really a thing?”
Worse, the few replies they did get were mostly insults.
After all, an Omega’s heat was considered a very private matter. And even though they were medical students, many still questioned their motives.
Sample forum replies:
[1] I feel like this whole post can be summed up in one sentence: “Is there an Alpha?”
[2] What is this, a PDA post?
[3] What’s going on? Asking if Omegas have adverse reactions to inhibitors? Why don’t you just go ahead and ask if they want to be marked?
[4] Even if the OP sounds like an Omega, what if it’s just an Alpha pretending? Who knows?
[5] This is terrifying. Can’t believe Med Uni would have such blatantly aggressive straight-Alphas. Shaking.
[6] 1. You don’t even state your real intention. It sounds righteous, but who knows what’s going on behind the scenes?
[7] Me, a newbie education major, hiding in a corner afraid to speak.
[8] Don’t be scared, person above! Our school isn’t like that! This is just an isolated incident!!
[9] Med Uni Omega? There aren’t that many Omegas studying medicine, right?
[10] Speaking of Med Uni Omegas, our students can’t help grinning like aunties. XX is totally the real deal!!
[11] Wake up. Stop cross-posting and go back to your own school forum to ship (even though I know exactly who you’re talking about).
[12] Why hasn’t this post been deleted yet? Just leaving it here to annoy people?
[13] Replying to above: already asked the forum mod. It is from a Med Uni IP—no faking that.
[14] Not reading, not replying. Let’s all ignore it and let the post sink.
Ji Qiu had expected this kind of reaction. He was even comforting the sulky Liang Yan next to him: “What’s the big deal? Totally normal. Let them rant all they want—as long as someone sees the post, that’s what matters.”
Liang Yan glanced at him. “I’m not angry.”
Just… a little frustrated.
“Right, right! Yanyan has the best temper in the whole world. How could you possibly be mad?” Ji Qiu quickly backpedaled and started showering him with exaggerated praise.
“…” Liang Yan didn’t want to argue with him right now.
Meanwhile, Yin Tongguang was eating snacks and watching drama unfold: “Don’t worry. Let them yell all they want. The post won’t get deleted, I promise! I’ve been around the gossip forums forever—there’s no mod I don’t know. They’ll give me this much face.”
Lai Qiutong leaned against the windowsill, sucking on a lollipop, but the way she did it looked strangely like smoking. She flipped her hair and turned to compliment him: “Mm. Xiao Yin, you’re amazing.”
Yin Tongguang always thought of himself as shameless, but still got a bit flustered by the praise. He waved his hands bashfully: “Aiya, Sister Lai, stop it~ It’s nothing, really…”
Finally, seven days later, they received their first phone call.
They were studying in Liang Yan’s private classroom when the ringtone went off. Seeing the unfamiliar number on the screen, they all froze for a second.
“Hello?” a slightly youthful male voice came from the phone.
This call seemed to mark a new beginning—like a precious glimmer of hope. The group exchanged glances, clearly excited. After taking a moment to calm down, they responded.
“My name is Xu Yishu, I’m a student from the art academy,” the voice sounded young, a little nervous and hesitant. He paused for a while before continuing,
“You… you’re looking for people who experience side effects after using inhibitors?”
[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]
