On the one-way road through University City, a black ride-hailing car drove steadily along.
After hearing the destination, the driver confirmed again, “…The crematorium?”
A soft whimper seemed to come from the back seat at that moment, but it quickly disappeared.
The indifferent boy responded with a curt “Mm.”
The driver didn’t press further and dutifully turned the car around, heading toward the city crematorium.
After driving for a bit, the driver kept sneaking peeks at the rearview mirror, observing the two passengers in the back. But no matter how many times he looked, the scene remained the same.
The boy on the left looked pitiful, like he was wrapped in a bundle of tears—afraid to speak up or show anger—as he stared at the boy on the right.
The boy on the right had been casually fiddling with his phone ever since he said “crematorium,” his monolid eyes lowered with a cold, detached expression.
They really looked like they were going to a funeral.
The driver concluded this after reading their expressions.
Being a long-time driver, he was prone to chatter—especially with passengers who looked as likeable as these two. They hadn’t said much since getting in the car, except for the boy on the left occasionally whispering “Yan Yan.”
“Young people,” the driver uncle decided to give them some life advice, “Life always ends in birth, aging, illness, and death. Don’t be too sad—try to think it through.”
“……”
The two in the back remained silent.
The driver took it as confirmation that he was right and continued gently: “Death isn’t the end. Maybe the person you’re mourning now has already become an angel, quietly watching over you.”
Ji Qiu, who was metaphorically on his way to the crematorium to ascend and become that very angel: “……QAQ.”
And then, in the rearview mirror, the boy on the right suddenly chuckled when he heard that. The dimples at the corner of his mouth shattered the cool detachment he previously had, and his voice was clear and crisp: “Thanks, sir.”
Seeing the boy smile, the driver first thought to himself how stunning kids are these days, then proudly assumed his comforting words had worked. “No problem, no problem.”
Meanwhile, far away in a lab, Lai Qiutong had just changed into her lab coat when her phone chimed.
She opened it and saw a transfer notification:
“[Transfer] Please confirm receipt”
Liang Yan transferred you: 50.00
[Liang Yan: Forgot the note.]
[Liang Yan: Coffin money.]
[Lai Qiutong: ???]
After sending the message, Liang Yan locked his phone. On the other end, Lai Qiutong more or less guessed he had done something reckless again, and calmly accepted the generous “funeral fund.”
Back in the car, they rode in silence again. The driver had just stopped at a red light and, seeing traffic ahead, mumbled to himself while opening the GPS, “Hold on, the road’s a bit jammed. Let me check if another route to the crematorium is clearer…”
“Wah!” The boy on the left finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a small sob.
“Hey now, don’t cry, kid,” the driver continued consoling him, quoting something he’d read once: “Life is like morning dew…”
“Life and death are both destiny,” Liang Yan added, successfully making the trembling Ji Qiu beside him flinch again.
The driver was pleased that the young man played along and was about to say more, when Liang Yan cut in:
“Sir, please stop at the next intersection.”
The driver glanced ahead and saw a sign for the Academy of Fine Arts. Confused, he asked, “We’ve barely been driving… You’re not going to the crematorium?”
The boy on the left immediately nodded enthusiastically, but the one on the right opened the door, then turned back to say:
“We are.”
He grabbed the boy on the left and dragged him out of the car.
“We just remembered that the deceased should put on some makeup before going. We’re dropping by the art academy to borrow some mortuary paint from a friend.”
“???”
Even after they got out, the driver sat there utterly baffled.
He really didn’t get it.
Silently, he turned off the crematorium navigation and moved on to his next ride.
Liang Yan walked ahead without stopping.
Ji Qiu, shivering in the cold, followed behind meekly.
Suddenly, Liang Yan stopped.
Ji Qiu flinched. “Yan Yan?”
Liang Yan had had his fun scaring him, but now it was time to handle real business. He turned and held out his hand: “Did you bring the sampler?”
“Oh, oh! Yeah, I brought it.” Feeling like the storm had finally passed, Ji Qiu quickly and obediently handed over the sampler.
He was only this well-behaved during moments like these.
Xu Yishu didn’t know what the two of them had just been through before arriving and took the device a bit awkwardly. “Sorry for the trouble—it’s really kind of you to deliver it in person.”
Liang Yan shook his head, indicating it was no problem. He stood aside watching Ji Qiu patiently teach Xu Yishu how to use the sampler.
Xu Yishu was the type of person who was slow with anything outside of art. Ji Qiu had to teach him multiple times—almost explaining the scientific principles behind it—before the guy finally figured it out.
“So, after collecting the pheromones during heat, I’ll deliver them to you, right?” Xu Yishu asked, holding the vial.
Liang Yan hesitated for a moment. “…Yeah.”
Since Xu Yishu didn’t have his own Alpha, he’d just have to suffer through heat alone: “Thanks for your help.”
“It’s no trouble. It’s just an extra step for me. If it’s useful to you, then I’m glad to do it.” Xu Yishu smiled sheepishly. “My painting’s almost finished. Let me treat you both to a meal?”
“Sure.”
Xu Yishu blinked, hesitated, then shyly turned his canvas toward them. “I’d hoped to finish this before you arrived so I could give it to you as a surprise, but I wasn’t totally satisfied, so it took longer.”
On the canvas were two young men in the prime of life.
One had his hands in his pockets, with a clean-cut, handsome face and elegant features.
The other was smiling brightly, eyes curved in a charming way, one arm draped over the other’s shoulder as if saying something to him.
They stood in a ginkgo grove, surrounded by a sea of golden light.
The smiling boy held a ginkgo leaf in his other hand. Though the ground was full of them, he still looked delighted, holding it up like a precious gift to the boy beside him.
Autumn was in full swing, yet the warmth in the painting seemed to radiate out from the canvas.
“I really like autumn, and your name has ‘Qiu’ (autumn) in it too.” Xu Yishu chuckled shyly. “I can’t do much else, but after meeting you two, I really wanted to paint something for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
As he put the finishing touches on the painting, he said this.
Liang Yan squeezed Ji Qiu’s hand—passed to him discreetly earlier—and smiled sincerely as he looked at the painting: “Thank you.”
Xu Yishu had clearly prepared for this outing and picked a very nice place to eat.
After a few meetings, he had become more talkative.
Just before parting, he noticed people in the school looking over at them curiously.
“By the way, I heard someone say there’s an OO couple at your school… That’s you two, right?” he asked.
Ji Qiu happily clung to Liang Yan’s arm and proudly nodded twice.
Xu Yishu didn’t expect them to admit it so readily. It gave him a strange sense of being entrusted with a secret. His cheeks puffed slightly with excitement, and his eyes sparkled with resolve: “I—I’ll keep your secret!”
Liang Yan thanked him.
“But,” Xu Yishu asked curiously, “if the suppressant issue gets resolved, Autumn’s gender will be hard to hide. What if your school finds out then…”
Ji Qiu’s expression froze for a moment: “Well… we’ll deal with that when it happens.”
He really didn’t want to go through another public outing nightmare!!
At that moment, Ji Qiu felt like an onion.
Each layer of his facade was being peeled away, one after another.
Back at school, a few days passed. Even though many Alphas were still loudly claiming they’d been cheated on, they had no choice but to accept the fact that the school had indeed produced an Omega-Omega (OO) couple.
Although no one could quite understand how two Omegas could break through the constraints of secondary gender and decisively choose to be together, that didn’t stop the student body from evolving from initial shock to curious analysis of this campus couple.
Some said it was the evolution of ABO gender dynamics—a love that transcended sexual orientation. Others disagreed, arguing that since Omegas were already rare, two being together was just a waste of reproductive resources.
Some even went so far as to open threads on the school forum, doing mystical fortune-telling about the couple.
The most popular post was one claiming to offer an absolutely accurate prediction:
[I bet the Yan-Qiu couple won’t last more than a year. If nothing happens within a year, I’ll treat everyone who comments under this post to a meal! No matter how many, I can afford it! But trust my prediction!]
The post went viral, and responses poured in.
Some waited gleefully for the prediction to fail, others firmly supported the couple.
[Cursing them to break up right after they got together? Not cool.]
[1. Although Qiu Qiu shocked me, I still choose to wish him happiness.]
[But the OP isn’t entirely wrong. Just wait till these two go through a few heats together.]
[Too beautiful a promise, too young to know better…]
Meanwhile, loyal warrior Yin Tongguang was always fighting on the front lines for his roommate’s love life, cloaked under his alt account.
[You guys know nothing: look at my ID!!!]
[You guys know nothing: they’re not breaking up!!!]
[You guys know nothing: if they don’t break up in a year, forget treating us, OP should eat shit.]
Since Yin Tongguang had been using this account quite frequently recently and always took a firm stand in support of OO love—openly siding with what people mockingly called the “Yan-Qiu cult”—and given his occasionally unhinged but oddly insightful comments, many users began to recognize him.
[Here he is again, Brother Hammer—always late, never absent.]
[Why does Brother Hammer always give me the vibe that he knows insider info?]
[Insider my ass. I can only accept that they’re just friends.]
[Another one gone crazy. Take him away.]
[Sure, sure. They study together, hold hands, kiss in class, but yeah, “just besties.”]
[Understood. Respect.]
And so, regardless of the noise, the belief that “Yan-Qiu is real” gradually became more solid in everyone’s mind.
As for Yan-Qiu themselves…
Forget it. Ji Qiu didn’t even want to correct the rumors anymore. After all, ever since he said their child could take Liang Yan’s surname, he’d nearly been dragged to the crematorium—how could he dare say anything else?
A week later, Xu Yishu really did arrive at the Medical University, bringing with him the sample kit after a successful collection.
Since they were all Omegas, Liang Yan simply had him come straight to the dorm.
That was the first time Yin Tongguang met him in person, and he was ecstatic: “You’re so cute!”
Xu Yishu blushed at the compliment.
He had few friends at school and lived alone. If it weren’t for the matter with the inhibitors, he probably wouldn’t have had any interaction with them.
As for extroverts like Yin Tongguang, who handed out rainbow-flavored compliments like candy, he had virtually no experience with them.
Liang Yan shot Yin Tongguang a glance. “Cut it out.”
“Okay, okay,” Yin Tongguang said, sighing dramatically. “Yan Yan is finally starting to care about these details. Truly, being in love changes people…”
“You want to go to the crematorium with Ji Qiu?”
That day, Ji Qiu had told Yin Tongguang about how Liang Yan had almost dragged him to the crematorium. As Yin clapped gleefully, he mentally calculated Ji Qiu’s latest threshold for self-sabotage.
So when Liang Yan said that, Yin Tongguang immediately waved his hands vigorously. “No, no, no! I’m not like Xiao Qiu at all!”
“That’s good then.”
Xu Yishu stood to the side watching them and couldn’t help but laugh.
The painting he had given Liang Yan hung on the wall beside them, bathed in the golden autumn sunlight streaming through the window—bright and warm.
After chatting idly for a while, Liang Yan observed Xu Yishu’s expression and asked, “How was your heat this time?”
Xu Yishu smiled. “It was fine. Just like before—I endured it and got through.”
Liang Yan didn’t respond, and Yin Tongguang fell quiet as well.
They both knew just how much pain was hidden behind Xu Yishu’s light words.
“It’ll get better,” Liang Yan eventually said. “It won’t always be like this.”
Ji Qiu and Lai Qiutong were still in the lab on the eighth floor. After seeing Xu Yishu off, Liang Yan messaged Ji Qiu and waited for his reply.
Yin Tongguang, meanwhile, praised Xu Yishu’s pure and adorable nature once more while logging into his alternate account, continuing his heated forum debates.
“Yan Yan, are you hungry?” Yin Tongguang opened the food delivery app. “I don’t want to go out anymore—want me to order something for you too?”
Only then did Liang Yan realize that although they’d eaten lunch early, the sky was already dark—and strangely, he wasn’t hungry at all.
His phone vibrated—it was a message from Ji Qiu.
He’d probably just finished his experiment. First, he sent a few cute emojis to say he’d been busy, and then typed out that he had just come downstairs.
Liang Yan looked at the sampler Xu Yishu had left on the desk and already had a conclusion in his heart.
“Yan Yan? Yan Yan?” Seeing him lost in thought, Yin Tongguang called out from the bed, holding his phone.
Snapping out of it, Liang Yan stood up. “You go ahead and eat. I’m heading out.”
Yin Tongguang nodded understandingly. “Alright, alright. Xiao Qiu is probably free now too. I won’t get in the way of your love life.”
Liang Yan responded distractedly, grabbed the sampler from the table, and left the room.
Ji Qiu had just returned from the lab building. Since the dorm was close to the cafeteria, he was texting Liang Yan while planning to drop his things off first.
But just as he reached the building, he looked up from his phone and saw Liang Yan standing at the dorm entrance.
“Yan Yan?” Ji Qiu was surprised. “You could’ve just told me to come find you. Why wait here? When you didn’t reply, I thought something had happened.”
Liang Yan pressed his lips together and handed Ji Qiu what he had in his pocket. His voice was soft when he spoke. “Xu Yishu just gave this to me. I brought it over for you.”
Ji Qiu accepted it. “Then wait for me, let’s go eat together? I’ll run up real quick to drop my stuff off.”
He was about to head upstairs when Liang Yan gently tugged at his sleeve from behind.
“I’ll go up with you,” Liang Yan said quietly, lowering his head.
“Eh?”
“I…” Liang Yan’s fingers tightened slightly. “My heat has started.”
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