Returning from Yao City to the capital, Ying Zhiyu still had two days left of his honeymoon.
He spent nearly all of that time accompanying Li Xi through the dependency period following their lifelong bonding.
When the honeymoon ended, they still hadn’t finalized their plan to buy a new place near the University of Biomedical Sciences.
In the new week, Ying Zhiyu spent the first three days rushing through morning and evening traffic to Li Xi’s downtown apartment.
By the fourth day, Li Xi told Ying Zhiyu that the dependency period was over and that he could stay at the university, returning home over the weekend.
However, Friday morning brought another sudden assignment. Ying Zhiyu would have to accompany his mentor the next day on a business trip.
He needed to accompany Xia Xianru for a short-term visit to a biology lab in the south.
In practice, this was also Xia Xianru giving Ying Zhiyu an opportunity to learn and demonstrate his capabilities.
So, when Ying Zhiyu called Li Xi to explain,
Li Xi only replied over the phone, “Make the most of it. Watch the weather.”
They both understood: this was Xia Xianru signaling goodwill to Li Xi—or, indirectly, the LI Corporation showing favor.
Opportunities like this had never come Ying Zhiyu’s way before.
In the past, even if Xia Xianru highly valued his protégé, Ying Zhiyu’s background couldn’t be ignored.
A small-town “exam genius” with no influence or connections.
Allowing Ying Zhiyu to take credit on every undergraduate patent, even placing him second or third, was already extraordinary favoritism.
And being too openly partial to him would only create enemies.
Xia Xianru had been in the capital’s academic world for years. He himself had been a “small-town exam genius” who made it to the capital, and without marrying into a family with deep roots in the University of Biomedical Sciences, he wouldn’t have achieved his current status.
This was the entrenched hierarchy of academia—something no one could easily overturn alone.
But now everything had changed.
From the moment Ying Zhiyu entered that banquet restaurant with his newlywed Omega, Li Xi,
it meant he now had powerful backing.
And that backing wasn’t just anyone—it was the heir of the Li family, whose mere stamp could shake the national medical and economic sectors.
Even the funding for the university’s biology lab was supplemented every year by the Li family, sometimes rivaling government allocations.
So, when Ying Zhiyu publicly announced his marriage and appeared with Li Xi,
it naturally meant that countless opportunities would now gravitate toward him.
Of course, having been reborn and chosen to marry into the Li family, Ying Zhiyu was already prepared to enjoy the perks of being a son-in-law in a powerful household.
He knew that, no matter the public perception, there would always be people calling him a “kept Alpha.”
But Ying Zhiyu didn’t care.
At the core, as long as it didn’t affect him, what others said behind his back was irrelevant.
That was something he’d learned from his previous life, having endured eleven years as the “one blemish on the Omega God.”
Public opinion couldn’t hurt him.
Even the most intense waves of online attacks had already been endured.
In his past life, the most vicious attacks had come from extremist Omega factions.
Before Ying Zhiyu appeared—or, to put it another way, before Li Xi married—Li Xi had been the true god these extremists worshipped.
But Ying Zhiyu’s arrival, an Alpha, had defiled their god—a thing the extremist Omega factions could never accept.
So when Ying Zhiyu was kidnapped in his previous life, his first suspicion was Li Qin.
The second, the extremist Omega factions.
Beyond these two, and temporarily ruling out any involvement from Li Songqian or Li Lü, Ying Zhiyu assessed that it was also highly possible the attackers came from extremist Alpha factions.
After all, the more extremist Alphas hated Li Xi, the more they hated Ying Zhiyu, the “traitor of the Alpha world.”
The online harassment Ying Zhiyu endured had nearly a hundred percent participation from extremist Alphas—higher than the extremist Omega factions.
Because, as the Alpha of Li Xi, the Omega God, Ying Zhiyu had accompanied Li Xi to countless public events and even spoken publicly.
His most notorious remark, which drew the fiercest backlash from extremist Alphas, was the so-called “Males Display Theory in Nature.”
Even non-biologists knew that in nature, males of most species are larger and stronger.
Ying Zhiyu used this to draw an analogy between natural males and Alphas.
Extremist Alphas constantly complained about the declining AO birth rate, blaming social trends—Omegas marrying Betas or using medical products to avoid marriage.
They demanded laws enforcing Omega-Alpha unions and restoring historical pheromone-based matching systems.
Ying Zhiyu, however, publicly stated that the solution to AO birth rates lay within Alphas themselves.
The “Males Display Theory in Nature” emphasized that males should compete to improve their individual quality and appeal to attract Omega partners.
He also responded to criticisms calling him a “kept Alpha,” shrugging on camera:
“Yes, I discovered that relying blindly on pheromone compatibility wouldn’t let me marry the Omega I loved. So I worked hard and became a successful case of the most luxurious ‘kept Alpha.’
“My Omega, Li Xi, and I are both satisfied with our marriage, and I invite other Alphas to learn from us.”
Ying Zhiyu casually countered: “Instead of questioning me as a ‘kept Alpha,’ why not consider that an Omega still chose to marry me despite that?”
He paused tactically, adding, “Why would some Alphas pursue an Omega who then chooses a Beta, someone whose pheromones can’t even satisfy her, instead of them? Doesn’t that warrant reflection?”
During that major public controversy, those final nine words were seen by extremist Alphas as the ultimate provocation.
The internet flooded with accusations, attacks, and insults labeling Ying Zhiyu as a “traitor” and “disgrace” among Alphas.
Yet the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
This even temporarily eased the hatred from extremist Omegas, who briefly acted as his shields against the extremist Alpha fire.
That evening, Ying Zhiyu left the lab building, had dinner at the school cafeteria, and returned to his dorm.
Just as he used his key to open the door, his phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, he answered naturally: “Have you eaten?”
It was Li Xi. Ying Zhiyu assumed he’d just finished dinner or returned home.
But the line was quiet. After a second, Li Xi said, “I can’t get in.”
Ying Zhiyu froze. “What?”
Another pause, then Li Xi said, “I’m downstairs at your dorm.”
“…I’ll come down to get you right now,” Ying Zhiyu replied.
After registering Li Xi at the dorm office,
Ying Zhiyu filled in the relationship field as: “Partner.”
The dorm supervisor, familiar with Ying Zhiyu, praised them for being “well-matched” and wished them “a hundred years of happiness.”
On the way up, Li Xi looked at Ying Zhiyu. “I thought you’d say I’m your cousin.”
“Cousin?” Ying Zhiyu repeated, amused.
Li Xi pursed his lips. “In scripts, that’s usually the cover—cousins or siblings—to keep things convenient.”
Ying Zhiyu shook his head, smiling: “After the honeymoon, I gave the supervisor some wedding candies. He knows I’m married.”
Returning to Ying Zhiyu’s dorm floor:
Since his grad school roommate Xu Kuo had moved out, Ying Zhiyu lived alone and had lazily stayed in his grad dorm instead of moving to the better PhD dorm with single rooms.
PhD dorms were nicer, with single rooms and a small living area, but Ying Zhiyu didn’t mind.
He led Li Xi inside, saying, “Tonight we’ll stay here—get a feel for dorm life in the country?”
Li Xi had never studied domestically; he’d been tutored at home by top teachers and later went abroad.
He nodded slightly.
Since he came to find Ying Zhiyu now, he wasn’t planning on going back anytime soon.
Ying Zhiyu found him suitable sleepwear—sizes were almost identical, pants just half a size larger. Good enough.
After Li Xi showered, Ying Zhiyu had already set the hairdryer on the desk under the bed.
He was meanwhile putting fresh sheets on Xu Kuo’s old bed.
Li Xi looked up at him on the upper bunk.
Ying Zhiyu said while arranging the bed: “I’ll sleep in Xu Kuo’s bed tonight. You take mine? I’ll change my bedding too.”
Standing below, Li Xi said, “No need.”
Ying Zhiyu continued putting on the pillowcases. “Hmm? Don’t want me to change it? Then…”
Mid-sentence, he suddenly realized something, looked down, and noticed…
On the floor, Li Xi, hair still damp, looked up at him.
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment.
Hesitating, Ying Zhiyu asked, “…Tonight… together?”
He realized that with a business trip out of the capital tomorrow, and an Omega traveling all this way to see him, suggesting they sleep apart didn’t feel right.
Ying Zhiyu paused, then said, “I was overthinking… Should we book a hotel nearby?”
The graduate dorm bed was just too small. Li Xi, used to sleeping alone, had never experienced such a cramped space—how could two of them fit?
Li Xi lowered his head, picked up the hairdryer from under the bed, and calmly said without looking at him, “We’ll sleep here.”
Author’s note:
Regarding Ying Zhiyu’s “Males Display Theory in Nature” analogy, the idea came from the author watching a documentary about African lions—thinking how magnificent and powerful the males looked, while females could be hard to distinguish from leopards (at least to the author). It made the peacock’s display seem reasonable: males compete in beauty and vigor to win mating opportunities.
This viewpoint aligns closely with the story’s themes, though the author isn’t certain if it has been publicly expressed before. To avoid disputes, the note clarifies that if an identical analogy exists elsewhere, the passage may be revised.