Training at the special base proceeded in an orderly fashion. Yesterday’s physical exams had been completed, and the reports delivered to Han Xingqian’s office. Students called by name paused their drills to hear the instructor briefly explain their results. Those with issues were given targeted treatment plans.
Today’s schedule had no sniper lessons; the sniper class trained in the hand-to-hand combat room. Each special trainee chose a major course upon entering after instructor assessment, but all had to touch on other subjects too, especially tactics and close combat.
Xiao Xun dreaded hand-to-hand classes the most. After a full day, he would collapse, bruised and beaten.
The hand-to-hand students served as sparring partners for other classes. Xiao Xun’s partner was Lu Yan. Despite the supposed agility advantage from his Lin Ti bloodline, Xiao Xun couldn’t understand how such a small, soft “rabbit” could hit so hard.
Exhausted, Xiao Xun lay on the floor, gasping. Lu Yan, unharmed, lay beside him, taking a brief rest.
“You’re strong,” Xiao Xun said, fatigued.
“Because I’m in the hand-to-hand class,” Lu Yan said, stretching. “Every week during sniper lessons, I want to bang my head against the wall. I never calculate angles right and always get scolded.”
“But here’s great,” Lu Yan continued, resting his chin on his hands. “At Anfia Military Academy, anyone I beat never admitted it—they said they were holding back for my sake, because of my dad, and didn’t go all out.”
“I didn’t hold back… I’m just not as good as you,” Xiao Xun said honestly.
“You’ve improved a lot. For this week’s practical assessment, let’s team up,” Lu Yan said. Though he struggled elsewhere, his quick thinking was unmatched. “I’ve figured out the rules. If we submit our last theory assignments together, we’ll likely get grouped on the same team.”
“Mm.”
Bi Lanxing sat down beside them. “What are you researching? Let me join.”
“No,” Lu Yan said, counting on his fingers. “This week we’ll crush your team. Otherwise, you get too cocky—weekly scoreboard domination.”
Bi Lanxing chuckled. “Want to make a bet?”
“Ah? You’ve really gotten this arrogant,” Lu Yan said after thinking a moment. “If I win, you have to buy our breakfasts for a week. If you win, we let you make any request.”
“Right?” Lu Yan nudged Xiao Xun with his elbow.
Xiao Xun nodded softly. “Okay.”
Bi Lanxing smiled warmly. “Mm.”
Just as they finalized the wager, the hand-to-hand instructor received a call from Han Xingqian, asking Xiao Xun to come get his physical exam results.
Xiao Xun wiped the sweat off his brow and went to the locker room to shower and change into a clean training uniform.
Standing outside Han’s office, he lightly rested his hand on the door, lips pressed together, hesitating.
“Come in,” came a clear voice from inside.
Han Xingqian, dressed in a white coat, waited behind the desk, focused on his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. He pulled Xiao Xun’s results from the drawer and slid them across. “Look through these first while I finish up this form.”
Xiao Xun sat cautiously on the round stool beside the desk, eyes lowered, unable to resist scanning Han’s emotional state:
Calm 70%, focused 30%—a state like still water.
He lifted his gaze slightly, but not high, resting on the exposed Adam’s apple under Han’s collar, watching the chain on his glasses sway subtly with each keystroke.
Han sent the required research equipment to the tech department, to be shipped with the month-end ferry. After sending the email, he asked, “Finished looking?”
Xiao Xun nodded.
“Most indicators are fine,” Han said, pointing to the values with a pen. “Your body fat is very low; you can eat some higher-calorie foods if you like.”
“Stomach’s normal…”
“But the psychological section is serious,” Han said, reclining slightly, fingers interlaced over his lower abdomen. His relaxed posture gave no pressure. “Most students, at worst, only reach B.”
Han had reviewed Xiao Xun’s psychological interview last night. The Samoyed gland’s j1 differentiation ability produces an “honest smile”—when someone meets the subject’s gaze, only truthful answers can be given.
Dr. Samoyed asked three questions:
- “What is your dream?” Xiao Xun answered: “To live.”
- “What makes you happy?” He answered: “The Lin Ti family’s destruction.”
- “What is the one thing you most want to achieve?” He answered: “Kill my elder brother and father.”
Han didn’t repeat the questions. He simply instructed Xiao Xun to lie on the exam table and lower his pants slightly.
Xiao Xun didn’t comply, eyes wide, retreating two steps with alert caution.
Han drew the curtain, donned medical gloves and a mask, and prompted softly: “Hurry, don’t hold up the other students.”
Biting his lip, Xiao Xun slowly climbed onto the table and lay down.
“Unbutton your waistband.”
He inhaled deeply, body stiff, eyes tightly shut.
Han removed one glove, pressed lightly on Xiao Xun’s waist to prevent struggle, and used the other hand to unbutton and fold down the waistband a few folds.
Xiao Xun’s frame was delicate, especially the narrow waist, similar in structure to a Lin Ti dog.
His coccyx extended into a thin tail, clamped tightly between his legs—a clear sign of his tension.
But the tail’s bone, which should have been straight, was malformed, with several visible protrusions along the joints.
“You can’t wear these pants anymore. Your tail will deform further and it’ll hurt more,” Han said. “Lu Yan and the others leave their tails exposed—it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Omega biological traits can’t retract at will; they result from glandular cell proliferation to carry overflow energy. With small glands, omegas rely on cell growth to manage increased energy from rank advancement.
“I—I’m used to it,” Xiao Xun said, voice choked. “When I was little, my brothers chased me to step on me, saying they’d break my tail. Father never intervened; I only tried to divert their attention.”
“It’s okay,” Han said, sliding on gloves. “Let them come. If the Lin Ti family dares, then so be it.”
Han’s gloved fingertips touched the sensitive tail base. Xiao Xun shivered, body trembling.
“A beautiful tail, but it needs realignment,” Han said. “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick. By the way, why did you name yourself Xiao Xun?”
Xiao Xun’s voice trembled. “Xun sounds better than Xun… ‘Xun’ feels too obedient.”
“Really, Xun Xun.”
Xiao Xun froze. Just then, a crisp snap echoed from the tail joint, accompanied by sharp pain. He cried out, cold sweat soaking his forehead and back. Nearly fainting, he inhaled the calming scent of Han’s pheromones.
“All done.” Han efficiently removed his gloves and returned to the desk, pulling a pen from his pocket. “Rest for two days and it’ll be fine. Remember to swap your pants for a pair with a coccyx opening.”
Xiao Xun’s face burned—half from pain, half from… he didn’t even know.
Stumbling off the table, he tried to fasten his waistband and escape the daunting office, but his legs wavered, strength gone. Vision blurred, he nearly fell.
Han extended an arm to catch him. Xiao Xun tumbled against his forearm; Han circled his waist with that same arm, drawing him close. “Where are you running?”
The sharp alpha aura enveloped him completely. Shorter than Han, Xiao Xun was entirely at a disadvantage.
Han lowered his gaze to the puppy-like ears in his arms, softly saying, “For the consultation fee—swipe your card.”
Xiao Xun pulled his meal card from his pocket and tapped it on the reader.
“Your total today: 121.70 yuan.”
Xiao Xun didn’t skip afternoon training either. He stayed in the hand-to-hand classroom for observation, tail still stiff and pinched in his pants without the proper opening—uncomfortably so, and he couldn’t help shifting it now and then.
As a child, this had been his most hated part. Hidden under pants to keep it out of sight, to avoid being stepped on or pulled, all while constantly guarding against pranks from his older brothers who might try to sever it.
Gray, slender… it always felt like a small comfort.
After afternoon training, the trainees headed to the locker room to shower and change. Xiao Xun ducked into a stall, finally letting his tail slip out of the tight pants to relieve the discomfort.
Suddenly, Lu Yan poked half his head through the neighboring stall. “What’s for dinner?”
For a few seconds, an awkward silence hung between them. Lu Yan’s eyes caught the flustered object Xiao Xun hastily hid behind his rear. “Wuhu!” he exclaimed.
He stripped down to his underwear, the white fur ball of his tail bouncing behind him, and scurried into Xiao Xun’s stall. “Swap with me. Wear mine first—my tail’s short, won’t get crushed.”
Xiao Xun’s face, finally cooling down after the earlier embarrassment, flushed red all over again.