22: Seriously? So Fussy.
Qian Kun froze for a few seconds.
Maybe it was his imagination, but he could’ve sworn there was a hint of schadenfreude in the other person’s tone:
What do you mean, “already withdrew la.”
Is that the kind of filler word a public servant should be using?
What was Qian Kun feeling right now?
Probably something like this: he’d spent a long time doing mental prep, finally forced himself past a bit of psychological resistance, decided to sacrifice himself like he was doing charity work… only to find out the other person didn’t need his sacrifice at all.
So all that genuine emotional buildup just turned into him being embarrassingly self-indulgent.
“Can you tell me why he canceled the matching request?”
Generally, there were a few reasons someone canceled: one, their condition improved; two, they chose surgery; three, they’d already found an Alpha they needed. Aside from those, there were also other, lower-probability reasons.
From what Qian Kun had observed, Shen Jin didn’t have any Alpha he was close to, so that last option…
Qian Kun suddenly thought of that pink bunny avatar.
“That’s the client’s privacy. We can’t inquire about it. Is there anything else you need?”
Hearing that, Qian Kun felt a sudden, irrational irritation.
So you’re just going to let someone who could pass out at any time cancel their request on their own? Have you considered they might be in danger?
However, Qian Kun also knew his anger made no sense.
He pressed his fingers to his temple and asked, “I want to know my matching rate with him.”
As a man the public matching office could never successfully “get,” he at least had that much authority.
Who knows what the person on the other end said, but Qian Kun’s tense mouth, in the remaining sunlight, curved into a faint arc.
*
Shen Jin returned to the dorm, but his roommate still wasn’t back.
He brought in the clothes he’d hung out on the balcony and looked up. The sky on the horizon was like someone had spilled an entire paint palette, color soaking into layered clouds.
From far away came the noise of the gym and the track, along with Omegas cheering and shouting.
This was a regular after-school routine for many Alphas. High-intensity exercise was a way to vent their abundant energy.
He saw Qian Kun’s blanket was still hanging outside, swinging like it was on a little porch swing. It was about to get dark. That young master probably wasn’t coming back early.
So Shen Jin simply took it down and folded it onto the chair.
While he was at it, he glanced over at Qian Kun’s territory.
Unlike Shen Jin’s desk, which only had stationery and textbooks, Qian Kun’s desk had almost nothing to do with studying.
A half-built castle model. A few Rubik’s cubes. A small potted miniature landscape. And on the fake rockery hung a charm that looked like some kind of Five Elements and Bagua beast ornament.
Only that charm didn’t match the rest of the desk at all.
It reminded Shen Jin of the talisman he’d worn as a kid when he forced himself to watch horror movies with his little brother.
So he’s scared of ghosts too? Ha.
Realizing he’d discovered someone’s weakness, Shen Jin’s eyes lifted with a smile.
In a good mood, Shen Jin gave himself a suppressant shot, changed clothes, and headed to the cafeteria.
The sky had turned a deep, dusky blue, draping over the school. Floodlights were already on at the field, and some students were still on the courts. As the light faded, the Omegas lingering at the edges gradually left, their voices full of grievance.
“The crown prince hasn’t shown up at the track for two nights! When he’s not here, this basketball court has no soul!”
“I bought water for nothing. I’ll just toss it to some random Alpha later.”
“Oh my god, look! My bestie just messaged me. She said she saw the crown prince at a nearby pharmacy and supermarket buying Omega supplies, like those Omega-only fever patches, soothing agents, pheromone-stabilizing sprays… and he even asked the clerk which one felt more comfortable and which had fewer side effects. Honestly, that’s so thoughtful.”
The Omegas looked at each other, all sharing the same terrible premonition.
“A Beta doesn’t need any of that… don’t tell me it’s for…”
“Which damn fox spirit stole him first?!”
“This reminds me, didn’t there used to be rumors that Kun-ge transferred here because his unforgettable first love was here?”
“Wasn’t that already debunked? Liu Qimai asked him directly and he flat-out denied it.”
“We need to stay calm. He’s the King of No-CP. There’s no way he suddenly accepts someone.”
“That makes so much sense. This must be for some relative at home!”
Only when they spotted Shen Jin walking not far away did they drop their murderous expressions and greet him sweetly.
Shen Jin still wasn’t used to how fast they could switch faces. He nodded slightly and sped up, heading into the cafeteria.
That evening during study hall, Qian Kun was peeling open a convenience-store onigiri wrapper. A can of cola frosted with condensation sat beside him, and he was frowning at an instruction sheet.
He was picky, the type who would rather go without than settle. He hadn’t bought a bunch just because a clerk recommended it. Instead, he’d compared online reviews with his own observations and picked a few items he thought were reliable.
But “inject a small amount of soothing agent”… what counted as “small?” Ten milliliters? Fifty?
If he injected too much and something happened, who was responsible?
This instruction sheet wasn’t rigorous at all and it still had all these good reviews online. Do people not read directions?
Qian Kun refused to admit his Chinese was the problem. He decided the wording itself was misleading.
From his peripheral vision, he sensed his neighbor returning and casually slipped the sheet into his backpack.
Today the classroom had felt unusually lively too. Concerned looks kept drifting toward Qian Kun, but no one dared ask outright.
They’d heard Shen Jin ran up to fish him out, and even successfully rescued the “princess” from the dean’s claws. There were actually more people asking Shen Jin about it.
As for why Shen Jin did it, no one questioned it.
Classmates for a year… if Shen Jin were truly cold to the bone, he wouldn’t have so many people supporting him.
At first, Shen Jin answered everyone patiently, one by one. However, once too many people asked, he glanced at someone who was obviously lively and fine, and finally posted a single message in the big group chat:
[Didn’t fall. Not hurt. No broken skin.]
Three denials in a row.
Shen Jin had authority among Omegas. If he stamped it, it was true.
He hadn’t even looked at the replies when Qian Kun tilted his head, sounding genuinely puzzled. “You fished me out and inspected me? How would you know I didn’t break skin?”
Shen Jin’s heart jumped. He lowered his eyes and saw the chat interface.
He’d clicked the wrong place. He’d posted in Group 1, the group that included the whole class and the transfer students.
Shen Jin steadied himself fast. “Do I need to look?”
Yang Junbi and the others looked like they were suffering for real. If anything, Qian Kun had been the one in the office who looked the most relaxed.
“Seeing is believing. Practice is the only standard for testing truth.” Qian Kun’s tone was light, teasing. “Otherwise it’ll hurt the class rep’s credibility, won’t it?”
As he spoke, he reached for his shirt like he was about to lift it.
Shen Jin knew if this continued, this bastard really might do it. “Enough.”
Qian Kun stopped while he was ahead. He didn’t keep provoking him. Instead, he pulled out Nanhu’s past Chinese exam papers and started doing them.
When he was genuinely focused, the smile disappeared from his face, and people didn’t dare disturb him.
Only about half the class stayed for evening study, but everyone had an unspoken agreement to detour around them.
Mainly because the atmosphere between the two big shots in the back looked like a sword drawn tight, as if a legendary duel might erupt at any second.
Earlier, someone had confidently declared that after fighting side by side, the two would surely bury their past grudges and make peace.
They had been dreaming. One mountain couldn’t hold two tigers.
After they returned to the dorm, Qian Kun saw the folded blanket on the chair and thanked Shen Jin, who was changing into slippers.
Unfortunately, the smile didn’t last long.
In the trash can was the packaging shell from a suppressant. It had been torn open, sure, but it was still recognizable.
How many shots did he take in a day?
If he found a suitable Alpha, he wouldn’t need to keep feeding himself needles like this.
Clearly, it was just a matter of finding an Alpha to lick him a few times. Why rely on suppressants?
Why was Shen Jin so stubborn?
Or maybe it wasn’t stubbornness. Maybe something happened… and he’d been disappointed.
Qian Kun watched Shen Jin set up his phone stand, place his phone on it, then pull out a set of exam papers and even sharpen his pencil in advance.
The pencil shavings were perfect, like a display sample on a store shelf.
And Shen Jin looked like even if the sky fell, he could still sit there leisurely and calm.
Qian Kun pressed a hand to his brow.
His chest felt blocked.
“I’m going to wash up,” he said.
“Mm, okay.”
They took turns using the bathroom.
Shen Jin wasn’t pretending he had no worries, but worrying wouldn’t change anything. Was the sky going to drop a sane Alpha who was willing to be a tool right into his lap?
He’d thought it through, so he stopped thinking about it.
Qian Kun suddenly called his name. “Shen Jin.”
Shen Jin was busy and didn’t look back. “Mm?”
Then he sensed the shift in the air. When he turned, Qian Kun’s face was dark as he went into the bathroom without a word.
What was that about?
Though they usually had no good tone when bickering, Shen Jin was very clear in his heart that Qian Kun was mostly joking. Maybe also because of family upbringing, Qian Kun usually didn’t cross a line.
Shen Jin thought of how yesterday the young master had been upset because the bathroom didn’t have a glass shower door, and water splashed onto the wall.
Seriously? So fussy.
Qian Kun had no idea Shen Jin had already filed him away as a delicate little princess.
Shen Jin hadn’t video-called Shen Xie’an in several days. They reported safety every day, but it still wasn’t the same as living at home and seeing each other daily.
Shen Xie’an said he’d been stuck on a bunch of hard problems and had compiled them all together. He asked if Shen Jin could explain them over video.
And he’d dragged a bunch of classmates along too.
So the video call was already on.
On Shen Xie’an’s side, he was in his own room, with a few other second-year middle school Omegas beside him. Shen Jin set the stand properly and asked the camera, “Can you see me?”
“We can! Hello, ge!”
The Omegas shouted their greetings.
Even though they were in middle school, they’d long heard of Shen Jin’s academic-god status. A shining creature like that was famous.
More importantly, their middle school tyrant Shen Xie’an was a stealth brother-fan. He’d casually drop lines like, “If it were my brother, then…” all the time.
Shen Xie’an looked at the crowd that was even more excited than he was and fumed internally.
I let you in so I could see my brother smoothly.
Have some self-awareness. What “ge,” what big bro. He’s mine. Mine.
Does he have anything to do with you?
Shen Xie’an took several deep breaths, shoved his classmates aside, and flashed the camera a sweet smile.
“Ge, how’s dorm life? Is your roommate easy to get along with?”
Faced with his brother’s machine-gun questions, Shen Jin answered briefly. He checked his watch. Lights-out was coming soon. He decided to make it quick.
Shen Jin put on his earphones. The exam paper he held was also his brother’s. He rattled off several key points fast, and the other side listened in rapt attention.
At some point, a beautiful waistline and tight abs appeared behind the screen.
Shen Jin was looking down, explaining a problem, when a wave of sharp inhales erupted in his earphones.
He raised his head and saw, on his phone screen, someone leaning in extremely close.
A faint pressure hit him in the face.
Shen Jin almost instantly slapped the phone down.
This was not appropriate for minors.
Qian Kun, completely calm: “What are you doing?”
He had both hands braced on the bedframe. On the video, only his waist and abdomen were visible. Nothing else showed.
He’d heard Shen Jin talking outside while he was in the bathroom and thought it was a phone call. When he came closer, it looked like Shen Jin was teaching homework.
Right now, Qian Kun no longer looked gloomy like earlier. He was back to his usual carefree self.
“Put some clothes on first!”
Shen Jin didn’t have time to care about the screaming on his brother’s side, or his brother’s frantic questions. He directly ended the call.
Qian Kun glanced at Shen Jin’s normally cool eyes, now unable to hide the panic.
Cute.
Qian Kun, an Alpha hiding his gender, had never had to worry about this kind of thing growing up. He had zero self-awareness. “Who puts clothes on right after showering? Besides, didn’t you say I wasn’t hurt? Perfect, then I can—”
Shen Jin’s patience snapped. He took back everything he’d ever thought about Qian Kun having boundaries. “Qian Kun!!”
Whoa!
One shout shook the ground.
Boys passing the dorm heard it and nearly jumped out of their skin. Wasn’t that Shen Jin’s voice?
Shen Big Shot gets angry too? He isn’t an ice block that never changes?
Who was living with him?
What, it’s Qian Kun?
They changed rooms? When did that happen?
Oh no.
This is really going to be a war.
Inside the dorm.
Shen Jin and Qian Kun locked eyes, sparks flying.
Click.
Lights-out.
In the darkness, Shen Jin blinked a few times, still not used to it.
From above, he heard Qian Kun’s low hum of laughter, sounding a little helpless. “I’m going now.”
Then he came to his own bed. From the sounds, he was getting dressed.
Shen Jin felt a headache coming on. He’d never yelled like that as a kid. How had he not held it in? His throat even felt a little raw now.
Suddenly, an orange-flavored mint was popped into his mouth. A fingertip brushed his lips and withdrew immediately.
The person pulled back fast, voice softened. “Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?”
Whose fault is that?
Shen Jin glared at him.
His eyes adjusted, and the room’s outlines slowly became visible.
“My fault. I thought it was just you. I’ll watch it next time.” Qian Kun apologized fast.
“...” Shen Jin didn’t know what else to say.
“Going to wash up? If you’re feeling better, go. I already put toothpaste on your brush. This time it’s dolphin-shaped.”
“Next time will it be moon-shaped?”
“It can be.” Qian Kun’s tone lifted by two degrees.
That wasn’t a compliment.
Shen Jin sucked on the candy. The cool mint soothed his throat.
He couldn’t stay mad, but he also couldn’t not be mad.
It felt like taking a few bites of an apple, only to find half a worm inside, stuck in your throat.
Already back in bed, someone kicked the pink bunny blanket away and reminded him, “Turn on your phone. Use flashlight mode.”
Shen Jin had been pissed into exhaustion. Talking to this man was more tiring than running 800 meters.
After washing up, Shen Jin dragged his tired body back onto the bed, wanting nothing more than to become a pancake with no desires.
He slowly opened his phone to check messages.
Even though he’d just dealt with his little brother, Shen Xie’an had still managed, from that single unmistakable aura, to ask how an Alpha could possibly appear in Shen Jin’s dorm.
Shen Jin told him the new roommate was a Beta.
Then came a flood of more questions.
And then, a new friend request popped up.
It was from a stranger.
Hates Rabbits: [Hello. The public matching office told me to add you.]
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