Chapter 58

The moment the doctor cleared his throat, Jiang Zhihuo already knew what he was going to say.

If it wasn’t spoken aloud, things could still remain as they were—but once the words left his mouth… it would no longer be just vague ambiguity. The two were straightforward by nature. Their relationship had been hovering in that indistinct space for a while now. Neither of them had any experience in love. Aside from those few times when physical contact was necessary due to heat suppression, they hadn’t even held hands.

To speak of it directly—it was a little embarrassing, yet oddly thrilling.

Jiang Zhihuo imagined the scene for a split second before his thoughts spiraled out of control. He forced himself to stop thinking. He turned his head to glance at Yan Mu, only to find that the other person didn’t seem to be doing much better. His expression remained composed, but the tips of his ears had turned a faint shade of red.

When they left the consultation room, Jiang Zhihuo went to the first-floor lobby to pick up his newly prescribed inhibitor. The two tacitly avoided mentioning the whole ‘find an alpha’ thing.

As they stepped out of the hospital’s main entrance, the pain in his lower abdomen flared up again. But they were still in public, still at a hospital. He didn’t know if there were any other omegas nearby, so it wasn’t a good idea to release pheromones. Yan Mu reached out and held Jiang Zhihuo’s arm.

A small amount of pheromones through skin contact was better than nothing—at least it helped ease the pain a little.

The driver was already waiting at the hospital entrance.

Yan Mu had called ahead. Once they got into the car and rolled the windows up tightly, he slowly began to release his pheromones.

The Yan Family’s driver was a beta in his forties. Ever since he’d once reminded Yan Mu to go home, Yan Mu hadn’t called on him again. So when he suddenly received a call from the young master earlier, he was a bit surprised, and even more so when he saw the young master bringing a classmate into the car.

Last time it had been a girl… Even though they were sitting together in the car, there was no physical contact at all. Yan Mu had kept a straight face the entire time, not saying a single word, as if there were no one else beside him.

This time was different. Yan Mu had led the other boy in by the hand. After getting into the car, the guy even greeted him in the front seat, then casually leaned against Yan Mu.

Usually, Young Master Yan wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting that close. The driver had seen plenty of people try to approach him, only to be coldly stared down. But to his surprise, Yan Mu didn’t mind at all.

While waiting at a red light, the driver glanced at the boy in the back through the rearview mirror.

He was quite good-looking, with a lively air about him, and he seemed cheerful. His style was entirely different from Young Master Yan’s. He lounged comfortably in the back seat, his arm resting on Yan Mu’s.

Soon after, the red light turned green. Just as the driver lifted his foot off the brake, he suddenly heard the young man in the back speak.

“Yan-ge, touch here. It’s your baby. You have to take responsibility.”

Yan Mu actually played along. “Okay, will the baby take my last name or yours?”

???!!!

The driver heard every word loud and clear—and nearly stepped on the accelerator in shock.

The car jolted slightly. Jiang Zhihuo noticed the driver’s pale face and burst into laughter. “Hahaha, sorry, Uncle, I was just messing around with Yan-ge.”

The driver: “……”

It was too funny. Jiang Zhihuo buried his head, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. Yan Mu nudged him with his elbow, but Jiang Zhihuo still leaned on him, laughing into the crook of his neck.

His warm breath hit Yan Mu’s neck directly, tickling. Yan Mu had no choice but to let him be.

Pain from the secondary gender organ didn’t come often. Most of the time, the pain was limited to minor cramps in the lower abdomen. Even without Yan Mu, he could grit his teeth and get through it. He wasn’t that fragile—there was no need to cling to someone all the time.

After dinner, Yan Mu dropped Jiang Zhihuo off at the bar.

Fu Xiuwang came in every night dressed in a suit. He’d sit down, order a glass of amber liquor, and chat with Jiang Zhihuo for a bit each time.

That night, he asked, “How’s school been lately?”

Jiang Zhihuo sat across from him. Fu Xiuwang already knew his true personality, so there was no need to pretend. He let out a sigh. “It’s been rough. Too many classes, too much homework—I really can’t take it.”

Seeing the usually cool and distant boy show such a childish side, Fu Xiuwang looked pleased. “Want to come with me?”

Jiang Zhihuo frowned slightly, still unsure. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Fu Xiuwang smiled. “Worried your parents won’t approve? Don’t be. You live alone; your parents aren’t around. That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Jiang Zhihuo looked surprised. “How do you know that?”

“If I’m looking for someone, of course I’d make sure to know everything,” Fu Xiuwang replied. “Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”

The door opened, then closed. The man left the bar.

Jiang Zhihuo let out a cold laugh and removed the recording device from his body.

On Monday, just after arriving at school, a group of students eating breakfast had gathered together, chatting about a senior who had recently run away from home.

“Hey, have you guys noticed? All the students who ran away were really good-looking.”

“Yeah, those photos didn’t even have filters. When I first saw the missing person posts on Weibo, I thought it was some promotion for a drama.”

“Weren’t their grades pretty bad, though?”

“Probably. The pressure must have been overwhelming. Otherwise, why else would they run away from home all of a sudden?”

The story hadn’t attracted much attention. People talked about it for a couple of days, then moved on. Every year during exam season, something like this happened. It made the headlines briefly, then faded away. Adults were all busy with their lives—just salary slaves. They sighed when they saw the news, then moved on, maybe even thinking to themselves, “If they can’t even handle this, how will they survive in the real world?”

The only ones who truly understood were the students living through senior year themselves.

Usually, everyone concentrated on their studies, paying little attention to the news. It wasn’t until yesterday that someone casually pointed out how all the students who ran away were really good-looking. That’s how the breakfast conversation started.

Ding Jianhui had seen the news too. He said that running away from home was irresponsible—to both yourself and your family. He spent half a class period talking to Class 1, reminding the students that if they ever felt overwhelmed, they should talk to a teacher or a parent. Don’t take extreme measures. The school had a counseling office. They could go there to talk to someone. Carrying the burden alone and keeping everything bottled up was not the best idea.

Jiang Zhihuo spent the whole morning resting his chin on his hand, listening. Every single teacher that day brought up the same topic—don’t push yourself too hard.

Ironically, Jiang Zhihuo was probably the one student under the least pressure, but he still got singled out.

The math teacher used a triangle ruler to tap him awake from where he was napping on the desk and said, “Everyone should learn from our classmate Zhihuo! His total score is only over three hundred, and yet he still shows up to school every day, cheerful and carefree. That’s what you call joyful learning! If nothing else, his attitude is something to admire!”

Jiang Zhihuo: “?”

Right before school ended, Yan Mu sent him a message.

Yan Mu: What do you want for lunch?

Jiang Zhihuo immediately replied with a: “?”

Class wasn’t even over yet! He was only messing around on his phone to keep up the image of a ‘bad student.’ However, Yan Mu was secretly on his phone too?!

This wouldn’t do.

Jiang Zhihuo closed his game and replied.

Jiang Zhihuo: It’s over. Our top student is slacking off. Using the phone during class?

Jiang Zhihuo: I’ve lost my appetite now.

Jiang Zhihuo: [animated emoticon.]

Yan Mu: I was solving problems. I already finished.

Yan Mu: Let’s make noodles at home. Can’t think of anything else to eat.

Jiang Zhihuo: Can’t decide what to eat—or are you just trying to lure me back to your place?

He asked it pretty directly. With how close they’d gotten lately, if they were still pretending to be clueless, then they really were idiots.

Yan Mu didn’t dodge the question: both.

Jiang Zhihuo: Alright then. Since you’re being so responsible, the baby can take your last name.

Seeing that message, Yan Mu couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile.

Yesterday’s joke still hadn’t worn off.

Class 4 was dismissed early. Yan Mu waited for Jiang Zhihuo at the door. He stood there, over 1.8 meters tall, leaning casually against the railing with one knee slightly bent. His head was lowered as he fiddled with his phone. A sharp nose, clean jawline, and a smooth line running down to his Adam’s apple and collarbone, disappearing beneath the collar of his uniform.

That top student’s face, no matter how many times you looked at it, never got old. The more you looked, the more handsome he seemed. The girls by the window were practically losing it, sneaking glances one after another.

Class 1’s biology teacher, a young woman, walked out with her teaching materials after class and joked with Yan Mu, “Waiting for someone, Mr. Handsome? You’ve stolen all the girls’ attention from my class. I can’t even teach properly!”

“Sorry, teacher,” Yan Mu replied.

The biology teacher waved with a smile. “Go on, go eat,” she said, then headed back to her office.

Jiang Zhihuo stuffed his books and bag into his desk drawer in one go, dashed out the back door, and ran straight into Yan Mu. “Yan-ge, let’s go!”

Zong Bei happened to come out of Class 2 just then and spotted them. He asked, “Huo-ge, God Yan, what are you guys eating? Cafeteria or delivery?”

Jiang Zhihuo: “Neither. I’m cooking. Come eat what I make. You in?”

The moment Zong Bei heard that Jiang Zhihuo was cooking, he quickly waved his hands and backed off. “No, no, I’m good. The cafeteria’s going to get crowded; I’ve got to hurry. Bye, Huo-ge, God Yan!”

His dramatic escape was so exaggerated that even Yan Mu got curious. “What did you cook for him before?”

“Just once, back in second junior year. He came over to tutor me, Li-ge wasn’t home, and since Zong Bei was a guest, I couldn’t just leave him hanging. So I made him a plate of egg fried rice. I thought it was fine, really, but Zong Bei’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He asked me if I was trying to poison him.”

Thinking about it still made Jiang Zhihuo laugh. Zong Bei had picked up a piece of something completely burnt and looked horrified. “Huo, you’re saying this… is egg?? How did you manage to fry an egg to this color? And this—this is supposed to be a bean? It’s all shriveled! You’re calling this a bean? Corn? What corn? Is there even corn in this bowl?”

In the end, Zong Bei didn’t eat a single bite. He went to wash the pan, but no matter how much he rinsed it, water kept leaking out. Lifting it up, he saw a hole at the bottom.

He came rushing out with the pan in his hands, looking stunned. “How the hell did you cook fried rice? With a drill? How did you even put a hole in the pan?!”

As Jiang Zhihuo retold that story, Yan Mu couldn’t help thinking about the clump of noodles he’d cooked last time at home… This really had to be love—at least he hadn’t destroyed the pot.

After that, Jiang Zhihuo’s title as a kitchen killer was pretty much set in stone. Yan Mu didn’t let him near the stove again. Left with nothing to do, Jiang Zhihuo leaned against the counter, browsing Taobao. He’d been scrolling through it for the past few days—Li-ge‘s birthday was coming up, and he still hadn’t decided on a gift.

“What are you looking at?” Yan Mu asked.

“A birthday gift for Li-ge,” Jiang Zhihuo replied. “A few days ago, a senior from the research lab added me. He said he was planning something for Li-ge and asked where he used to like eating.”

As the water boiled and he dropped in the noodles, Yan Mu asked, “When is it?”

Still looking at his phone, Jiang Zhihuo answered, “The twenty-fourth—Christmas Eve.”

Li Muhe’s birthday was easy to remember—December 24th, Christmas Eve, a special date. Every year on that day, he used to get a whole box of apples.

Yan Mu’s hands paused for a second. He said, “I was planning to ask you out that day too.”

“Can’t make it,” Jiang Zhihuo replied. “Let’s go on the 25th instead—Christmas Day is at least a real holiday. Christmas Eve is kind of fake, right? A few years ago I don’t even remember people talking about it. Just something businesses hyped up.”

Whether it was the 24th or the 25th, a day earlier or later didn’t matter much to two guys. They weren’t delicate girls—details like that weren’t a big deal. Still, whenever something involved Li Muhe, Yan Mu couldn’t help feeling a little prickly.

He asked Jiang Zhihuo, “Can you not go?”

Jiang Zhihuo looked up. “What’s up with you, Yan-ge?”

Just as he spoke, a sharp pain hit his lower abdomen. It came out of nowhere. He gasped and bent forward slightly.

Yan Mu turned off the stove, stepped over, and wrapped his arms around Jiang Zhihuo.

Whenever Yan Mu came close with his pheromones, a wave of calm would always follow.

That fresh, rain-like scent clung to his clothes, brushed past the tip of Jiang Zhihuo’s nose, and seeped into his glands.

The pain slowly eased. Jiang Zhihuo felt a bit better. He nudged Yan Mu’s chest lightly with his elbow and said, “Thanks, Yan-ge.“

Normally, Yan Mu would immediately retreat when touched, ensuring he never crossed the boundary or overstepped. While pursuing Jiang Zhihuo, he consistently maintained the appropriate distance, neither too close nor too far. It made things feel natural and comfortable.

But this time was different. He didn’t pull away—not even a little. Instead, he held on tighter.

The room wasn’t cold, so they’d taken off their jackets. Hugging like this, arms pressed together, the faint rhythm of their heartbeats could be felt through the warmth of skin against skin.

Yan Mu lowered his head and rested his forehead on Jiang Zhihuo’s shoulder. His hair brushed gently against the side of Jiang Zhihuo’s neck, like a small, furry animal nuzzling close.

In a low, slightly hoarse voice, Yan Mu said, “I’m letting you smell my pheromones… so don’t go.”

His voice trailed off at the end, scratchy and soft—like he was feeling a little wronged.

Jiang Zhihuo slowly let his hand down and froze for a long moment.

When Yan-ge spoke in that kind of voice, it was lethal. He couldn’t take it.

It was similar to the day before the competition, when he’d hugged him at the back of the bus and whispered by his ear. “You’re mine.”

So sweet it drove him insane.