24: Can’t Help It.
The atmosphere was quiet.
In everyone’s impression, Qian Kun was lazy all day long, appearing uninterested in the outside world.
Only in the handful of times they’d actually interacted did people realize he’d been raised well. He handled people with the manners of a gentleman, distant and restrained.
Now he’d suddenly blurted out a swear, and he’d done it to the homeroom teacher.
The reaction was exactly what you’d expect.
Qian Kun was used to being the center of attention, so he didn’t feel embarrassed at all.
Calm as ever, he pressed the sensor on his chest that was burning hot, then picked up a copy of Extracurricular Classical Poetry Appreciation, one of the books he’d been reading recently.
He flipped to a page and spread it open. “Grass, originally titled Farewell to the Ancient Plain Grass.”
It really was an assigned piece for extracurricular reading. He’d actually dug it out of some forgotten corner and paraded it around.
There was still a trace of amusement in Qian Kun’s eyes. He looked like he was in a great mood.
That mood didn’t last.
His body’s feedback made it impossible to keep smiling.
With how unhurried he looked, anyone would’ve believed he really had just been reading.
Once Hu Shengqiang said something, there was no taking it back, even for students he thought highly of.
“Ten copies of Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng, handed to the class rep.”
Qian Kun nodded. Liu Qimai was just about to gloat: hahaha, Kun-ge, even you have such days.
Then he noticed Qian Kun’s expression turn serious, his presence sharp and icy.
That look reminded Liu Qimai of the few times Qian Kun hadn’t managed to rein in his temper.
He instantly chickened out.
Qian Kun’s heart was pounding fast. The pheromones in his body churned violently. His episode was acting up again.
The corners of Qian Kun’s eyes were a little red, yet his movements stayed steady and orderly. He pulled out a scratch notebook, tore off a corner, folded it a few times, then opened it again. As long as you didn’t stare too closely, it looked almost identical to the slips in the lottery cylinder.
At this time, some classmates in class were making noise, their eyes kept sliding toward Shen Jin’s seat.
“Fang Yuan, your moment is here!”
“If you don’t seize it, are you expecting the Ice God to descend on his own?”
“Hurry up, give the Alphas who still can’t bring themselves to say a word to Shen-ge a chance!”
Fang Yuan was the Alpha who, when Shen Jin first reported this semester and people thought Shen Jin had differentiated into a Beta, finally worked up the courage to want to pursue him. After all this time, he still hadn’t made a move.
He’d been classmates with Shen Jin for five years, from middle school through high school, and he wasn’t even sure Shen Jin remembered him.
Qian Kun glanced at the Alpha with the flaming red face. Irritation scraped at him.
He pinched his fingers once, then handed the blank slip to Zhou You.
Zhou You had wanted to say something, but Qian Kun had already walked off quickly.
That aura, the kind that carried no pheromone at all, still made the few Alphas in the back row feel uncomfortable.
Zhou You looked at the folded creases. It was a flawless fake, meant to pass for the real thing.
There was nothing left to misunderstand.
Zhou You had always thought Qian Kun was the kind of person with terrifying execution. While other people were still hesitating, he would quietly draw what he wanted into his sphere of control before he’d even officially decided.
He was interested in too few things, so few, that many people overlooked his possessiveness that wouldn’t tolerate others coveting.
Shen Jin was walking out of the senior classroom with an upperclassman from twelfth grade. Their inspection was done.
The upperclassman still couldn’t let go of what happened last time. The moment the international package arrived, he’d called Shen Jin out, and Shen Jin’s first instinct had been to send it right back.
The upperclassman sensed the engaged couple might have problems.
Ke Minghuai’s attitude didn’t quite match that though, so he tried to put in a good word for his old friend.
“Ice God, Minghuai is the type who’s secretly intense and never says anything. The overseas competition thing wasn’t him trying to hide it from you on purpose. We could all tell he wanted to flat-out not go, but his request got rejected. Then the school said his talent in chemistry was unmatched, that he could go over there and wipe the floor with them…”
Shen Jin had only found out Ke Minghuai joined the international training team after Ke Minghuai had already gotten on the plane, through an apologetic message from Ke Minghuai.
When Ke Minghuai landed and reported he was safe, Shen Jin never mentioned the concealment. He didn’t voice resentment either. He only told him to come back safely.
That period had been summer break. His parents had taken Shen Xie’an back to Shen Jin’s father’s hometown to pay respects to the ancestors.
Shen Jin had signed up for an intensive prep class and was left home alone.
He’d just differentiated, and his emotions were extremely unstable.
Some cousins from the Xie family’s branch households heard the “good news.” They’d always wanted to replace him, so during that time, they came to the Shen household constantly to sneer and mock.
Ke Minghuai ran into it once. The scene had been awkward.
After he drove them off, he would come keep Shen Jin company whenever he had time.
They were each other’s shields in name, so their interactions were polite and restrained. That month was when Shen Jin’s internal defenses were at their thinnest, and that was when they grew a little closer.
Shen Jin had noticed Ke Minghuai hesitating to speak several times back then.
He didn’t know what it was about.
Then he was suddenly told Ke Minghuai had gone abroad.
Everyone around him knew.
Only he had been kept in the dark.
Even for Shen Jin, there had been an instant where his vision went black.
Was he not trusted?
While the upperclassman was practically delivering a passionate campaign speech for his friend, Shen Jin’s attention wasn’t on any of it.
He followed Shen Jin’s gaze to the rooftop of the opposite laboratory building.
For safety, the rooftop was fenced with wire mesh.
A tall figure leaned back against the fence, sitting there with a casual posture that still carried an indescribable pressure.
Qian Kun stared at the sky, where clouds drifted with the wind. Long fingers held a cigarette. Smoke rings rose and dispersed.
The redness in his eyes slowly receded again as his thoughts drifted far away.
He sensed something.
He looked around through the wire mesh, yet didn’t see anyone.
After saying goodbye to the upperclassman, Shen Jin called the matching office to confirm Hate Rabbits’ identity.
He knew misusing someone else’s pheromone data carried a heavy criminal penalty, yet he still asked, just in case.
When he read out the AX000034** number, the operator immediately remembered that arrogant Alpha from not long ago, the one who’d claimed he already knew this client in real life and wanted staff to keep it confidential.
If Shen Jin truly didn’t need help, they wouldn’t bother him again.
If Shen Jin’s condition wasn’t looking good and they needed to cooperate, the matching office could be flexible. They had been worried about Shen Jin before too.
Shen Jin confirmed it really was the public matching office’s mistake. They’d mixed up files and accidentally sent him the wrong information.
That one-in-ten-thousand fluke had landed right on his head.
Did that “three hundred” realize that, normally, the two of them would never have crossed paths at all?
The seat-drawing continued. The classroom heated back up.
Students who’d drawn a slip opened it, and some were already holding up their numbers and loudly “recognizing relatives.”
The whole class was divided into four major blocks, labeled A, B, C, and D.
Shen Jin returned to the classroom. Hu Shengqiang beckoned him up to draw a slip. Going down, he brushed past Zhou You.
He didn’t notice the undercurrent in the room.
Shen Jin’s number was D14, the window-side seat in the last row.
It was his current seat.
That meant he didn’t have to move.
Luo Ying ran over to Shen Jin to see the number.
“Who’s D13?”
Qian Kun strolled back to his seat. Luo Ying was an Omega, and Shen Jin was always far more tolerant toward Omegas. His eyes were softened right now.
Qian Kun lazily took the slip from Zhou You’s hand and said, not loud and not quiet, “Me.”
A lot of people had been watching the destination of the two biggest stars in the class. Everyone wanted to know who would sit with them. No one expected their doomed connection to continue through a random draw.
Facing Shen Jin’s slightly surprised gaze, Qian Kun blinked. His lips shaped the word: Fate~
The class rep snorted. Fate my ass.
Luo Ying excitedly sent the breaking news to the “Qian-Jin Shipping Society,” and the group exploded in shock.
[No way, no way, this is wild!]
[Every time Class Nine changes seats, my blood sugar spikes!]
[President, did Qian-Jin fight? Jin-Jin is cold but Zen, he probably won’t say anything. Qian-Qian looks like he doesn’t like dealing with anyone outside the transfer group.]
Luo Ying glanced at the two of them. They looked calm on the surface, and she couldn’t tell if either boss was willing.
[For now, it’s peaceful.]
[That just means the storm is coming?]
An Alpha in the front row was just about to raise his hand when he noticed Qian Kun watching him with a half-smile.
Qian Kun wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, yet the Alpha’s words jammed in his throat.
The Alpha looked down at his slip, doubtful.
D13. That was him.
Zhou You appeared at his side.
Zhou You looked good and was righteous and they played basketball together.
Zhou You slung an arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Wanna play ball later?”
The Alpha still hadn’t fully recovered. “Oh. Yeah.”
Zhou You followed up, “Gotta pee. Bathroom?”
The Alpha was thus tricked away by Zhou You. Only after leaving did he think, isn’t going to the bathroom together an Omega daily thing? What does it have to do with them?
Hu Shengqiang saw the seats were decided. The transfer students and the original Class Nine students were now mostly mixed together. The class conflicts he’d worried about seemed to be softening into early-stage integration.
He stepped back onto the podium and raised his voice. “Anyone nearsighted can apply to switch seats. If anyone else feels it doesn’t fit, you can talk to me too!”
Everyone’s eyes drifted to the back row, but one boss was copying Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng and the other was filling out student council reimbursement forms. They were in a clear, mutual non-interference zone.
Hu Shengqiang asked again, “Anyone? Anyone? If you miss this, you miss it!”
“Old Hu, don’t make it sound like a discount sale!”
“Hahaha, Old Hu, you’re not young anymore. Have you successfully sold yourself yet?”
Hu Shengqiang’s expression turned stern. “Young people, mind yourselves. Don’t be that curious.”
Among the veteran teachers, Hu Shengqiang was considered young. He was responsible, and it was easy for him to blend with the class.
When the bell rang and it was time to move, most students were too lazy to clear out their desk drawers, so they just dragged entire desks across the floor.
The room plunged into chaos again, until the new seating was finally set.
Qian Kun moved his desk quickly.
This time, Shen Jin wasn’t his neighbor.
He was his desk mate.
Liu Qimai sat in front of Qian Kun, and Fang Yuan sat in front of Shen Jin.
Maybe because he’d been placed right in front of Shen Jin, Fang Yuan sat upright and stiff, hesitating several times without turning around to greet him.
Qian Kun gave him a look that carried no obvious emotion.
Shen Jin’s reimbursement records couldn’t be off by even one decimal place. He was focused and didn’t care who was in front of him.
After he finished the form, he snapped a photo and submitted it to the vice president.
Only then did his new desk mate slide a copied notebook over to him.
Shen Jin had been so absorbed he was still thinking about why a person had suddenly appeared beside him.
“What’s this?”
He hadn’t been in the classroom earlier.
Qian Kun said, “Old Hu’s punishment copy.”
Shen Jin glanced at him.
He remembered Old Hu had privately praised Qian Kun for improving by two points on the monthly exam compared to the placement test.
Favoritism was obvious.
Qian Kun understood what he meant. “I mess up sometimes too.”
I’m not omnipotent.
Shen Jin caught a faint scent, woody, threaded with a hard-to-miss trace of smoke.
He remembered what he’d just seen.
He reminded him, “Smoking is forbidden on campus.”
Qian Kun was organizing his desk. It was stacked with classical Chinese texts, and he’d been reading too many of them these past two days. He was annoyed.
He shrugged. “What kind of nose do you have? You can still smell that?”
He’d already used an odor-masking spray.
Shen Jin was used to retaliating. He directly delivered a line: “Then what’s your problem that you can’t help it?”
The front row thinking there’d be a great battle, the two eavesdropping: “...”
Shen Jin also realized that sentence had some problems. For a moment couldn’t figure out how to revise it.
The air between the two inexplicably tensed. Qian Kun gazed at this little iceberg before him who had been provoked into being slightly more lively. The pen he held slowly tapped.
“Mm, can’t help it.”
*
When the weekend arrived, Shen Jin was picked up and taken home by Shen Xie’an, who had clearly been waiting a long time.
The kid chattered nonstop the entire way.
Kids were like that. Whatever came to mind, they said. Shen Jin didn’t mind and answered patiently.
The brothers laughed and talked as they walked in the front door, then realized their parents were home unusually early.
The living room table and sofa were covered with gifts, all wrapped beautifully.
Shen Xie’an asked what it was. Xie Yan smiled and said these were to celebrate Shen Jin’s upcoming eighteenth birthday, his coming-of-age ceremony. The Shen family wouldn’t host a banquet, but because Shen Jin was engaged to Ke Minghuai, every family was still giving face and sending gifts in advance.
Xie Yan pointed to several gift boxes set aside separately. “These are from the Ke family. Take them upstairs later.”
These days, her relationship with her eldest son hadn’t improved. Xie Yan had been gloomy every day.
Today, she was genuinely happy.
Even in the past, she’d wanted her son to marry well, to be valued by his in-laws, so he’d have footing and confidence after marrying into the family.
The Ke family’s household rules were upright. They weren’t like the Ji family, another wealthy clan known for being chaotic.
Ke Minghuai himself was outstanding, and he treated Xiao Jin with care most of the time. Even if they searched again, they might not find someone better.
Shen Jin was a little dazed at first, then quickly understood the underlying logic.
He thought the Ke family was deliberately saving face for him, planning to make a formal announcement once Ke Minghuai returned.
Before that, the Ke family needed to maintain the appearance that they still treated him well, to preserve their reputation.
That time the engagement ended, Xie Ling had accompanied Shen Jin.
Everyone outside knew the Xie family’s direct line and branch households were sharply divided. They shared a surname, yet they had split into separate households generations ago.
Xie Ling personally showing up meant he acknowledged Shen Jin.
The Ke family’s posture was also meant for Xie Ling to see.
Shen Jin looked at Xie Yan’s bright smile, and at Shen Qing sitting on the sofa with a faintly satisfied expression.
Growing up, there were very few things he’d done that made his parents satisfied.
The engagement counted as one.
He’d hidden it for so long. There were words he wanted to say with his own mouth.
He didn’t want his parents to hear it from somewhere else.
His chest felt heavy, like countless small stones pressing down.
He thought the next moment might bring a violent storm.
Shen Jin lowered his eyes. “Send them all back.”
Xie Yan didn’t understand. “What did you say?”
“I ended the engagement.”
The living room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Author’s Note:
Qian-Qian, your wife is gone.
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