Chapter 17

There was no way he was going back.

His family still had no idea he was married. If he suddenly showed up with an Omega—worse, the nation’s Omega sweetheart—and said he was “going back as the bride,” his parents’ hearts wouldn’t survive it.

Zhiyu thought about it. They’d been living apart their first week of marriage. And Li Xi’s heat cycle hadn’t completely passed yet—he should probably stay with his Omega first.

So they agreed: Zhiyu would go to Li Xi’s place Friday night and head home Sunday evening, then return to campus Monday.

—

Friday, 7:15 PM

Zhiyu walked out of the Life Sciences building.

He’d planned to avoid rush hour and head to LI Group before sunset. But around four, just as he was about to sneak out, his advisor suddenly called a meeting.

So he texted Li Xi beforehand and changed it to meeting directly at the restaurant at night.

He headed downstairs with a postdoc senior. She was married; her husband was coming to pick her up.

She smiled. “You saved my life today. Since I kept you this late, how about dinner with us?”

During the meeting, they discovered an issue in the data. That was why Zhiyu was stuck until now—he helped her review everything afterward.

Zhiyu opened his mouth to decline—

But she added, half-teasing, “My husband heard there’s a freakishly handsome Alpha in our project group. He insists on seeing what kind of monster you are.”

She probably worried he’d feel awkward, so she used the nickname the undergrads loved: “Come on, God Ying, give us some face?”

Zhiyu shook his head. “Please don’t tease me, Senior. I just remember things well.”

Just good memory—pure modesty.

Maybe he didn’t have literal “three heads and six arms,” but after six years in the university’s biotech world, even trying to dim his shine couldn’t keep his name from spreading.

She was about to push again.

Zhiyu cut in first. “I already have plans tonight. Next time, I’ll treat you both.”

Since he said he had a date, she didn’t insist.

At the building entrance, Zhiyu—being the gentlemanly Alpha—held the door for her.

She stepped out, glanced back, and sized him up again.

“So, our little Ying is dating, huh?” she asked.

Zhiyu didn’t deny it.

Considering he was technically married, it would’ve been pointless anyway.

Her eyes swept him up and down. The tall Alpha wasn’t in his usual grayscale wardrobe lately—lately he’d been wearing colors.

Like today: with the temperature dropping, he wore a dark green crewneck sweatshirt layered over a white tee that peeked at the collar. White cargo pants. And a pair of bright orange-yellow sneakers.

Accessories on his neck, wrist, waist—all coordinated. Even the backpack matched.

He looked warm, youthful, and unfairly handsome.

She couldn’t hide her admiration. “I knew it—he’s been getting even more handsome lately. Even his wardrobe’s upgraded. Love really does work wonders.”

Zhiyu’s outfit today actually came from the Li family’s personal styling team.

The Lis had an internal service app designed just for family members—daily outfits, personalized meal plans, grocery prep, everything. Their stylists, nutritionists, and chefs updated it around the clock.

Since Zhiyu stayed on campus, they couldn’t send a stylist to live with him. So the stylist made Zhiyu an account and uploaded daily outfit plans. The clothes were delivered weekly.

They’d specifically requested low-key brands, but… Li-family low-key wasn’t exactly normal-people low-key.

Zhiyu just smiled and let her assume what she wanted.

“Where’s your date? Want me to give you a ride?” she asked, pulling out her phone to call her husband.

But before she could dial, a voice cut in:

“Young Master Ying.”

Zhiyu turned.

Pandora was standing near the building’s corner—sharp suit, straight posture—walking over quickly.

“Young master, Third Young Master is waiting for you.”

Zhiyu: “…”

Under his senior’s stunned stare, he got into Li Xi’s car.

Li Xi had personally come to the university.

Not only that—he didn’t even bring a driver. He was behind the wheel of a Ferrari Monza SP2.

Zhiyu couldn’t help it. “Why’d you bring this today?”

A 499-unit, invitation-only supercar—roofless, flashy, no windshield.

Everywhere they passed, students stopped to stare.

“Isn’t it risky?” Zhiyu asked.

Li Xi, wearing dark shades because of the open cockpit, said calmly, “Only Panda knows I’m here.”

Meaning: no leaks, no ambush risk.

Which also meant: only one bodyguard.

Zhiyu glanced at him. From Li Xi’s composed, expressionless profile, he could sense an immense, unshakeable confidence.

As if this were the most natural thing in the world.

If Li Xi were afraid, he’d hide at home and at the company, avoid the public, avoid interviews, never launch a suppressant under his own name.

But if he lived like that—timid, paranoid—he wouldn’t be Li Xi.

Nor would he be the “god of Omegas” adored across the internet.

—

No Alpha disliked cars.

And no one—regardless of ABO gender or age—could resist something like the Monza SP2: retro, futuristic, classic race-car aesthetics all in one.

Li Xi gestured for Zhiyu to drive, but Zhiyu didn’t have his license on him.

After he ran back to the dorm for it, they took the car around the university town.

The engine’s roar pumped adrenaline straight into the bones. They lost track of time, and traffic in the city center was a mess, so Zhiyu suggested dinner at his own campus cafeteria.

The first month’s living stipend from their marriage contract had already arrived.

Sitting in the Life Sciences cafeteria, looking at the extra ten million deposited in his account, and then at Li Xi’s 25-yuan cafeteria plate… Zhiyu felt like he was being terribly stingy toward his investor.

He sighed.

Li Xi looked up at him.

Zhiyu smiled and asked, “How’s the food?”

Li Xi didn’t answer at first—just stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

Zhiyu understood: His Highness didn’t want to lie, but didn’t want to hurt him either. So he chose silence, then a gentle nod.

Zhiyu sighed again.

Before he could finish exhaling, Li Xi set a long, charcoal-gray gift box on the table and slid it toward him.

Ying Zhiyu froze for a moment. “What’s this?”

Li Xi lifted his chin slightly. “Open it.”

Ying Zhiyu did as told and opened the gift box.

“…” He paused. “For me?”

Inside the deep-gray rectangular box lay a brand-new watch.

Li Xi nodded, concise as ever. “Birthday present.”

September 9th was Ying Zhiyu’s 22nd birthday.

He had originally planned to go home tonight—his family always celebrated his birthday—but later he figured Li Xi probably needed him more right now. So he told his family he had school matters to handle and would go home on Sunday instead.

He hadn’t expected Li Xi to remember his birthday.

In their previous life, things had started off terribly; the night before his birthday, he’d been forced to get a marriage certificate at gunpoint. Of course they hadn’t celebrated anything afterwards.

Besides, Li Xi had always been busy.

Even after their relationship eased up somewhat in that lifetime, Ying Zhiyu’s birthday gifts were always handled by Li Xi’s assistant, Zhang Jingrui, and then passed to him through Li Xi’s personal bodyguard, Panda.

Ying Zhiyu looked at the black-and-gold watch inside the box.

The A. Lange & Söhne 1815 “Homage to Walter Lange,” a special commemorative model—black dial, 18K gold hands, one of the rarest editions, practically priceless on the secondary market.

“This is from your collection?”

Li Xi shook his head. “Just bought it.”

He had always preferred Swiss watches with bold, artistic designs over German pieces focused on mechanical structure, and these days he basically only commissioned one-of-a-kind custom pieces from independent watchmakers.

But this particular 1815—he’d chosen it after seeing Ying Zhiyu wearing a Sinn U50 before, weighing his options, and deciding it was the right gift.

Ying Zhiyu blinked. “You can still get one of these now?”

Only 27 pieces existed—rarer even than Li Xi’s Ferrari Monza SP2. It shouldn’t still be circulating. Even auction houses shouldn’t have any left.

Li Xi’s tone remained flat. “I asked a watch specialist from the auction house last month to track one down privately.”

“Last month?” Ying Zhiyu immediately caught that key detail.

Li Xi looked at him. “I have your information. Of course I know your birthday.”

Then, just as calmly, he added, “I also booked a table at the Seabed Club for tonight, but your university doesn’t have a helipad. If we drive over now, we’ll be having a late-night meal instead of dinner.”

So that’s why Li Xi was driving such a flashy supercar today.

And why, after their test drive, when Ying Zhiyu asked where he wanted to eat, Li Xi had gone quiet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ying Zhiyu asked.

If he’d known, he could’ve left earlier. Worst case, he would’ve asked his advisor for leave.

Li Xi paused for two seconds, then turned slightly away, sounding almost awkward. “If I’d said it earlier, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Right. This was supposed to be a birthday surprise he’d started preparing a month ago.

Maybe there would’ve been a band, flowers, a cake…

Not the two of them sitting here eating a 25-yuan student cafeteria buffet.

Across the table, Ying Zhiyu stared at Li Xi for a long moment.

Maybe he really was hungry—this young master who had grown up surrounded by luxury and fine dining sat at a tiny cafeteria table without a hint of complaint.

Probably because of his upbringing, Li Xi never spoke while eating unless necessary. His manners were elegant and restrained, and his aura, usually so imposing, had softened completely.

Ying Zhiyu suddenly felt as if Li Xi was… being very well-behaved.

Sensing his gaze, Li Xi paused again. “Aren’t you eating?”

Ying Zhiyu glanced at the half-eaten steamed bun on Li Xi’s tray.

He had gone to get Li Xi some pineapple fried rice—the Second Canteen’s signature dish—but they’d arrived too late and it was sold out. He’d brought the steamed bun as a stand-in.

He thought: eating this here… wouldn’t it be better to just go home and have my family’s baozi?

At least our baozi have thin skin, big fillings, and lots of juice.

Ying Zhiyu suddenly stood up.

Li Xi looked up. “…What’s wrong?”

Ying Zhiyu smiled and extended a hand toward him. “Taking my boyfriend home.”