Chapter 2

From Zhang Jingrui’s perspective, he could only see Li Xi’s sharp side profile.

Li Xi’s gaze never wavered from the young, handsome Alpha on the other side of the one-way mirror.

Zhang Jingrui calmly explained: “Ying Zhiyu entered the University of Biomedical Sciences’ youth program at fifteen. That same year, he joined the national training team for the National Biology Olympiad for high schoolers and later won a gold medal, securing automatic admission to Capital University.”

Before Li Xi noticed him, Zhang Jingrui had clearly done thorough research on this young Alpha with an exceptional academic record.

“However, he ultimately declined the automatic admission and chose to stay at the University of Biomedical Sciences.”

Zhang Jingrui himself was a top graduate of Capital University. He had his own thoughts on why Ying Zhiyu would forgo a guaranteed spot at the nation’s top school.

“I checked—the youth program entrance exam mimicked the national college entrance exam. Ying Zhiyu’s scores in 9th grade already exceeded Capital University’s threshold. Winning the gold medal in the Biology Olympiad allowed the university to waive two years of prep classes.”

“He is now in the second year of the ‘4+2+2’ combined BS/MS/PhD program in Genetic Engineering. He’ll earn his PhD at 23, five years ahead of a typical PhD student.”

Ying Zhiyu’s academic record was undeniably impressive.

Still, in the spirit of thoroughness, Zhang Jingrui pointed out: “Ying Zhiyu’s performance in the youth program wasn’t particularly outstanding. He barely made it into the national training team and may have had some luck in winning the international gold medal later.”

After completing his master’s, Zhang Jingrui had worked as Li Xi’s assistant for three years. He genuinely wanted his talented young boss to find an Alpha worthy of him.

Thus, Zhang Jingrui pragmatically added: “But luck is also a form of skill. He has shown the ability to perform under pressure, proving his composure.”

Li Xi remained silent, offering no comment.

The young Alpha had already moved away from the glass wall, never coming close. His glance had been a mere accident.

Li Xi looked at the young Alpha’s tall but slightly slender back and muttered three words: “Annual income?”

As the third son of the Pheromone Empire, Li Xi didn’t care about a partner’s income—one, a million, or a hundred million yuan made no fundamental difference to him.

He was just… curiously interested this once.

Zhang Jingrui, well-prepared, immediately continued: “As for income, I estimated it based on the years since Ying Zhiyu turned eighteen.”

“His annual income mainly comes from three sources: scholarships, competition prizes, and patent-related earnings.”

The first two were easy to guess. With such an impressive academic background, the scholarships were merely icing on the cake.

Li Xi glanced at the monitors. The Alphas had already followed the staff into the laboratory cafeteria building.

“What patents does he have?”

His gaze naturally locked on that young figure in the crowd.

Zhang Jingrui hesitated slightly. “That’s a bit complicated. I’m not a biology expert, so some of it I don’t fully understand.”

Despite the complexity, the meticulous assistant had already pulled up the pre-downloaded patent information.

Li Xi’s undergraduate major had been related to biology, only switching to business after his master’s. He quickly skimmed the patent pages and was surprised—Ying Zhiyu had quite a few patents.

Starting at eighteen, three years into his university studies, Ying Zhiyu began filing patents in his field. He averaged two to five patents per year.

Most weren’t first-author patents. The lead applicants were prominent, well-known scholars in biology—many names that even Li Xi recognized instantly.

The University of Biomedical Sciences had long been a cradle for notable biologists. Li Xi guessed that one of the frequently appearing names might be Ying Zhiyu’s current mentor.

As for Ying Zhiyu, his name mostly appeared second or third. There were two possibilities: either these patents were indeed his, but credited to his mentor, or he was a favored beneficiary of the mentor, getting recognition despite being young and relatively inexperienced.

Li Xi said nothing. Zhang Jingrui probably guessed his boss’s thoughts. After all, he’d wondered the same when first reviewing the patents.

“Ying Zhiyu comes from a humble family. His Alpha father used to be a construction steelworker, his Omega mother sold breakfast from a stall. It’s unlikely that Academician Xia Xianru granted him first-author credits just out of kindness.”

Xia Xianru was Ying Zhiyu’s mentor at the University of Biomedical Sciences.

Zhang Jingrui quickly scrolled through the pages, pointing to one patent as if to prove his point.

Li Xi looked at the screen. Among the many specialized and high-level biological patents, one stood out—related to food.

A dough recipe?

Zhang Jingrui explained with a small smile: “Ying Zhiyu’s parents currently run a small baozi shop.”

The normally calm and rational assistant now sounded like a devoted food salesman.

“This patent is interesting,” Zhang Jingrui continued. “It allows the baozi wrapper to change color automatically if the filling is substandard or spoiled.”

This baozi wrapper patent was filed when Ying Zhiyu was only twelve.

The same year, his father quit the steelworker job and, together with his mother, borrowed money to rent a tiny shop less than 10 square meters.

This was also Ying Zhiyu’s only solo patent.

Ying Zhiyu returned to school.

After getting off near campus, he went straight into a gym and signed up for a membership.

At the front desk, persuaded by the sales pitch, he also added twenty sessions of Sanda martial arts classes and a yearly swimming pass.

In his previous life, Ying Zhiyu believed his “unjust death” was largely due to neglecting physical fitness while comfortably settled in research work.

The university did have martial arts and swimming facilities, but Ying Zhiyu preferred private lessons to avoid crowded spaces.

Back in the dorm, he placed the gift boxes and remaining shopping cards from Wangfujing on Xu Kuo’s desk and finished the experiment report.

After showering, he came out past the dorm curfew. The dorm was still empty—just him, as it had always been during his graduate years.

Xu Kuo only cared about the degree for his résumé. Technical work or research wasn’t for him; he simply needed to put his name on projects to look accomplished. For people of his social class, this was easy.

At exactly 10 p.m., Ying Zhiyu went to bed.

As he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help recalling the last time he’d done so in his previous life.

When his heart stopped, the mixture of his family’s cries and the alarms of medical instruments filled his ears.

Had he died so unjustly that even the heavens couldn’t bear it?

But why had he been reborn at this particular moment?

At twenty-one, Ying Zhiyu had no power, no influence, and no choices.

But that didn’t matter.

Ying Zhiyu had no intention of finding another Omega.

After eleven years of marriage, even with minimal contact, he and Li Xi had grown accustomed to one another.

Just like today, when he entered that lounge, he could already imagine the scene behind the one-way glass: someone sitting high and mighty, looking down on the world.

That proud, cold face would show no expression at all.

Those in scientific research tended to be like that—obsessive about details and relentlessly analytical.

Ying Zhiyu had once thought that, after so many years of marriage, he was dispensable to Li Xi.

After all, that’s how they had always operated.

Even in the most intimate moments, Li Xi rarely called him by name.

There were no nicknames, no conversation—only the physical connection guided purely by pheromones.

But from the time he was kidnapped until he was found, more than a week had passed since the LI shareholders’ meeting.

Theoretically, if Li Xi had chosen to ignore him, the kidnappers would have had no use for him. They shouldn’t have been forced to move him from place to place to hide.

Clearly, Li Xi had agreed to some conditions to temporarily keep the kidnappers in check.

As he drifted off to sleep, Ying Zhiyu felt a twinge of curiosity.

So, at the moment of his death, when Li Xi called his name… what had he wanted to say?

Sleep slowly overcame him. This time, he thought, he would have the chance to ask Li Xi that question himself.

Hopefully, the “Panda” wouldn’t be holding a gun to his head this time.

Meanwhile, in a luxurious flat in the city center, 17.6 kilometers from the graduate dorms at the University of Biomedical Sciences, a burly Beta quietly reported Ying Zhiyu’s movements after leaving the LI laboratory.

“He rode a shared bike to the subway, transferred at Tianmenqiao Station, got off at Guomao Station, arrived at the Guomao Wangfujing Department Store, and went straight to the cosmetics counter…”

If Ying Zhiyu were there, he would recognize the man immediately—the same “Panda” bodyguard who had held a gun to his head at the civil affairs bureau in his previous life.

Panda was a rough Beta, indifferent to cosmetics or skincare.

Li Xi glanced at the photos Panda had taken.

Ying Zhiyu had purchased items at Helena Rubinstein, Armani, and YSL counters—all beautifully packaged gift sets.

Li Xi remembered that Ying Zhiyu’s profile indicated a suspected romantic partner—an Omega female.

In the photos, the young Alpha listened intently to the salesperson’s explanation.

Li Xi recalled the brief, almost unconscious glance Ying Zhiyu had given the one-way mirror that afternoon.

The young, handsome Alpha had eyes that could melt even a dog’s heart.

After Panda finished his report and left the study, Li Xi continued working for a while. At 12:29 a.m., he pulled up Ying Zhiyu’s personal profile again.

Pheromone match rate: 91%.

At the lower end of the 90% tier, just above the threshold—like an Alpha’s grades.

From elementary to middle school, Ying Zhiyu had never skipped a grade; his teachers’ yearly evaluations were always satisfactory.

Even the year he entered the gifted class in ninth grade, his grades had hovered around the top twenty in his year.

Yet this seemingly average Alpha, barely passing the qualifications, achieved first place in both the written and practical exams.

The same pattern repeated in the biology Olympiad.

Selected for the national training team as the “lowest-ranked” candidate, Ying Zhiyu again displayed the modest consistency of his earlier years in elementary, middle, and gifted classes.

Until finally, at the International Biology Olympiad, he “unexpectedly” won gold.

Zhang Jingrui, looking at Ying Zhiyu’s record, couldn’t help praising his “good luck in competitions”—consistently performing beyond expectations.

But one exceptional performance could be luck. Could the second or third be considered mere “exceptional” again?

Scrolling further, Li Xi’s gaze suddenly froze.

Because the contest prize had only been a pretext. The afternoon’s LI commemorative gift registration form had temporarily replaced a laboratory application form.

Now, in the form he held, one column stood out in bold, flamboyant handwriting:

Specialty: Enhances husband’s fortune.