A new transfer student joined Class 3 of the sophomore year.
It happened to be pouring that day. Xia Xiqing, who had planned to skip class by climbing over the wall, was stuck in the classroom by the downpour. Propping his chin on his hand, he idly stared out the window at the torrential rain. The tightly shut windows trapped the mingling scents of pheromones, blending into an eerie odor that made his head spin.
The homeroom teacher pushed open the door, bringing in a wave of sandalwood fragrance—as if a Buddha had entered. Sitting in the back row, Xia Xiqing stretched out his arms and laid his head on the desk, ready to sleep.
But it was just a momentary thing.
He sat up straight.
This scent… it was fucking delicious.
It was the sweetest, most mouthwatering scent Xia Xiqing had ever smelled. More intense than the finest vanilla cake, dampened by the rain outside, it was pure and sensual.
Best of all, it was the scent of an Omega’s gland.
With wicked thoughts stirring, Xia Xiqing craned his neck left and right, his eyes locking onto the open door.
“Let me introduce a new student to everyone.” The homeroom teacher pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to face the doorway. “Come in.”
Until now, Xia Xiqing had always found their school uniform utterly unremarkable. The worst part wasn’t its plainness, but its sheer ordinariness—a white short-sleeved shirt and black trousers, devoid of any distinguishing features.
Yet the moment this transfer student stepped inside, his discerning, critical aesthetic sensibilities were profoundly satisfied.
The newcomer was easily six feet tall, his long legs encased in black school trousers. To Xia Xiqing, an art student with an almost X-ray vision for form, it was practically like seeing through them. Though he was undeniably handsome, with a sleek build and towering height, his first two steps into the room were perfectly measured. He didn’t strut like a runway model but marched with the precision of a soldier performing a military drill right in front of Tiananmen Gate. His profile was truly stunning—a high nose, prominent brow bones, like a mixed-race beauty.
The instant he turned, Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, inwardly whistling his approval.
This guy must have been sent by the heavens to match his taste perfectly.
His hair was mostly wet, droplets clinging to the ends as they trickled down from his temples, teetering precariously along his sharply defined jawline. His white shirt, drenched by the rain, clung to his body like the sticky summer air, faintly revealing the contours of his chest and abdominal muscles.
With just that one glance, Xia Xiqing had already sketched in his mind a vision of this man drenched in sweat during some intimate moment.
As an Alpha, Xia Xiqing wasn’t drawn to the delicate, fragile type of Omega—they held no appeal for him. He craved collision, he craved conquest. Put simply, he preferred the fiery kind.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Zhou Ziheng.” He took a piece of chalk from the homeroom teacher and wrote his name on the blackboard.
His voice was deep and resonant, rich with magnetic quality. It rippled through the quiet classroom like stones dropped into a lake, sending ripples crashing into Xia Xiqing’s heart.
The homeroom teacher added, “Zhou-san skipped a grade, so he’s a bit younger than the rest of you. Please help him settle into Class 3 as quickly as possible.”
Hmph, a little kid. Xia Xiqing felt even more satisfied.
Zhou Ziheng offered a reasonably friendly smile, bowing toward the seated students below. “I look forward to your guidance.”
Just as he prepared to rise, a loud thud echoed through the room. Something had crashed to the floor, its clattering fragments shattering the classroom’s tranquility.
Zhou Ziheng straightened up, his gaze following the sound like everyone else’s, landing on the window seat in the back row.
Sitting there was a boy whose looks could almost be described as handsome. His face was filled with apology as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head and offered a smile.
His voice was soft, like the only dry cloud escaping a rain-filled sky.
“Sorry, I accidentally knocked it over.” He looked submissive, bowing repeatedly to everyone in apology. Finally, he lifted his head, his seemingly innocent gaze meeting Zhou Ziheng’s deep-set eyes. “My apologies.”
“Zhou.”
The homeroom teacher cleared his throat. “Be more careful.” He then turned to Zhou Ziheng. “As it happens, Xia Xiqing is the only one without a desk partner. You can take the seat next to him. You’re both tall, so sitting in the back won’t disturb the other students.”
Xia Xiqing…
He silently repeated the name in his mind. Zhou Ziheng nodded, grabbed the backpack slung over his left shoulder, and strode with long strides to the back row.
With each breath, Xia Xiqing, bent over picking up colored pencils one by one, felt that exquisite sweetness drawing nearer and becoming more intoxicating.
Until a pair of clean white sneakers appeared before his eyes, and the tall shadow condensed into a mass, enveloping him. A slender, clean hand picked up the last colored pencil from the floor—a red one. Xia Xiqing lifted his head, straightened up, and sat on the chair. He saw Zhou Ziheng, still half-crouching, extend the pencil toward him, as if offering a perfectly blooming red rose.
“Thanks.” Xia Xiqing reached out to take it, using the moment to brush his fingertips against Zhou Ziheng’s briefly—a fleeting, almost imperceptible touch. Yet the other seemed unfazed, merely nodding briefly before silently pulling out the chair beside him. He sat down, quietly unzipping his backpack to retrieve a black pencil case and a blue notebook.
He sat right beside Xia Xiqing, the sweet vanilla scent making Xia Xiqing’s mind wander.
“Let’s begin class. Take out yesterday’s unfinished weekly test,” the homeroom teacher cleared his throat. “Which question did we cover yesterday?”
“Question 13!”
“No, we covered question 13.”
“Then we must have moved on to the essay questions…”
Though Xia Xiqing felt a stir of desire, he could tell Zhou Ziheng wasn’t easily swayed. Despite the sweet pheromones radiating from him, unlike many Omegas, Zhou seemed somewhat unapproachable.
Had he been hit on too many times?
Alphas were one thing—physical strength gave them leverage, so they rarely ended up at an Omega’s mercy. But the reverse was different. An Omega surrounded by persistent Alphas had nowhere to run, left completely at their mercy.
So he totally understood why some Omegas radiated an “approach at your own risk” aura—it was a form of self-preservation. In this cutthroat mating landscape, Xia Xiqing leveraged his naturally harmless appearance to disguise his Alpha identity, using it to get close to those hard-to-reach Omegas.
But… Xia Xiqing glanced sideways at the person beside him. Omegas this tall… weren’t exactly common, were they?
To quickly establish basic friendship with Zhou Ziheng and lay the groundwork for future conquests, Xia Xiqing once again deployed his foolproof disguise skills, sliding his exam paper into the gap between their desks.
“Let’s study together,” he said, his angelic face breaking into a sweet smile—utterly friendly, utterly well-behaved.
Zhou Ziheng stared directly at the face before him without flinching. He felt something was off, something puzzling. This Omega displaying such friendliness just didn’t feel right, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He possessed a strikingly handsome face—fair skin, deep double eyelids, slightly upturned outer corners, and dark pupils glistening with moisture. Zhou’s gaze slid down his exquisitely straight nose to its tip.
There was a tiny mole there, one he hadn’t noticed earlier when scanning the classroom from afar.
This man named Xia Xiqing carried a rose-scented pheromone, intensely rich. While this fragrance wasn’t uncommon among Omegas, it differed from any rose scent Zhou Ziheng had encountered before. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what made it unique.
“Aren’t you going to look?” Xia Xiqing’s lips parted slightly, full like a ripe red berry, revealing a glimpse of his vibrant, moist tongue within.
Zhou Ziheng’s Adam’s apple rolled imperceptibly, and he offered a smile.
“I’m looking. Thanks.”
To read the same exam paper, they naturally had to lean closer, then closer still. Xia Xiqing feigned carelessness as he shifted toward Zhou Ziheng, his right foot resting on the side rail of his chair. He propped his elbow on his right knee, his palm supporting his pointed chin.
His beautiful almond-shaped eyes drifted from the equations on the paper to the nape of Zhou Ziheng’s neck. His head was bowed low, and at the end of his smoothly contoured neck, a small protrusion—a vertebra—could be seen.
Zhou Ziheng felt certain he was being watched there, yet he neither spoke nor looked up, his eyes fixed on his own exam paper. He found it increasingly puzzling why an Omega would have such an odd fixation on staring at the back of someone’s neck. Still, he seemed like a very intelligent person, Zhou Ziheng thought, glancing at his test paper covered in checkmarks.
He liked intelligent people.
After all, intelligent people were always interesting.
“Right.” Xia Xiqing seemed to remember something, bending over to rummage through his desk drawer. His entire back arched as he leaned forward to peer inside. Zhou Ziheng, who never looked away, finally shifted his gaze from the paper to glance at Xia Xiqing beside him. This posture stretched the white shirt against his back, the protruding spine perfectly outlined. his collarbone shifted with the movement, as if poised to break free like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. But instead, a breath seemed to catch, trailing up along that line until Zhou Ziheng caught sight of his slender nape.
Whiter and more pristine than the necks of many female Omegas.
The instant Xia Xiqing rose, Zhou Ziheng averted his gaze, returning it to the exam paper. His heartbeat lagged in its return to calm, still racing long after.
“Here.” Xia Xiqing handed him a pack of tissues. Seeing Zhou Ziheng didn’t take it, he pulled one out himself and pressed it into Zhou Ziheng’s hand. “Wipe it off. Don’t catch a cold.”
Zhou Ziheng clenched the tissue. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me—we’re deskmates, after all.”
The homeroom teacher scribbled a lengthy proof on the blackboard while outside, the downpour showed no sign of letting up—if anything, it grew heavier. “Earlier, the teacher mentioned your name: Xia, Xi, Qing…” Zhou Ziheng enunciated each syllable with deliberate emphasis, lending his name a peculiar resonance that made Xia Xiqing’s already restless heart ache even more. He couldn’t help but lick his lips.
Zhou Ziheng turned his face. “Which ‘qing’ character?”
Unclear. That was the first word that flashed through Xia Xingqing’s mind.
He smiled, his expression gentle as an untimely spring breeze. “Clear as in ‘crystal clear’.”
Zhou Ziheng nodded twice. “Nice name.”
“Likewise,” Xia Xiqing replied, a faint smile playing on his lips, though its tone had shifted.
Two individuals each harboring their own hidden agendas, yet through a series of misfortunes and coincidences, they reached a strange, tacit understanding. It felt like a flame plunging into the sea, or an iceberg falling into molten lava.
Unreasonable, yet intensely thrilling.
During evening study hall, the rain outside had finally eased. Zhou Ziheng had been intently solving problems, filling two pages of scratch paper before finally finishing his math homework. The person beside him had excused themselves to use the restroom ten minutes ago and hadn’t returned yet. His neck felt stiff. Zhou Ziheng turned his head and leaned back for a moment. The boy in front accidentally bumped his desk, knocking over a bottle of red ink sitting on Xia Xiqing’s desk corner. The bottle toppled over.
Zhou Ziheng reacted quickly, remembering Xia Xiqing’s friendly demeanor. He hurriedly picked up the glass bottle and pressed the tissue paper Xia had given him onto the ink spreading across the desk. He used up an entire pack of tissues before the damage was mostly contained, though all ten fingers were stained. The rose-colored ink seeped into the crevices of his fingerprints.
Before it dried completely, Zhou Ziheng decided to wash his hands and spray on some more Omega pheromone perfume.
After raising his hand to ask the class monitor for permission to leave, Zhou Ziheng exited the classroom, walked down a corridor, and reached the men’s restroom at the far end. As he approached, a familiar voice drifted out from inside. As a new transfer student, there weren’t many people who could feel familiar to him.
His desk partner, Xia Xiqing, was one.
“I don’t understand why you’re still clinging to me?” His tone shifted, even his voice changed. It bore no resemblance to the gentle, friendly angel Zhou had seen. Instead, it was impatient, blunt, even sharp and direct.
“Wasn’t my rejection clear enough? You’re clinging to me like this—isn’t that a bit pathetic? Hmm?”
That “hmm” twisted and turned in his voice, utterly wicked.
Spying and eavesdropping were acts Zhou Ziheng despised most. Yet leaving now would seem odd—as if he feared the man.
A soft, fragile voice drifted from inside. The very sound of it marked an Omega.
“But… I really like you…”
“You like me, huh?” Xia Xiqing mimicked the voice, repeating the words before letting out a dismissive snort. “You like me, yet you’re entangled with someone else? Tsk. Your affection sure is cheap.”
“Xiqing, I…”
“Get out.” Xia Xiqing’s voice turned cold, as if unwilling to utter another word, decisive and abrupt.
If he didn’t leave now, it would be too late, Zhou Ziheng thought. Yet his feet refused to obey his will.
The next moment, a pale, slender figure emerged from the restroom. A sweet, soft raspberry pheromone scent clung to him. Spotting Zhou Ziheng, he quickly lowered his head and fled like a startled animal. Zhou Ziheng didn’t look back. He only heard the trickling sound of water from inside the restroom.
He stepped inside. Xia Xiqing, who had been washing his hands meticulously, lifted his head. Like a meticulous murderer cleaning up after the deed, his gaze was cold the instant he looked up. But upon seeing the reflection in the mirror, it shifted abruptly—a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes before quickly smoothing back into place.
He smiled, reverting to the friendly classmate once more.
“What a coincidence,” Xia Xiqing’s voice softened again.
Zhou Ziheng stared coldly at his reflection in the mirror, saying nothing.
“You heard me?” Xia Xiqing remained perfectly composed, as if the words had never come from his mouth. He raised his wet hands to fasten the collar of his shirt, which had been torn open, buttoning each one carefully. Droplets of water trickled down his neck, pausing on his prominent collarbone.
“I was planning to keep up the act,” Xia Xiqing said, turning to face Zhou Ziheng. He took deliberate steps closer, hooked his foot against the open door, and slammed it shut with a loud bang.
He raised his hand, pressing it against Zhou Ziheng’s chest and shoving him against the door panel. His wet palm left an imprint on the white shirt, right over the left ventricle. Though cold to the touch, the heart beneath burned hot.
“You should have figured it out by now,” Xia Xiqing said bluntly, his face innocent as ever. “I’ve taken a liking to you.”
As he drew near, Zhou Ziheng suddenly realized the previous scent of Omega pheromones had vanished. Instead, in the rapidly compressing air, he caught an intensely pungent tobacco aroma—sharp and overpowering, mingled with the rich fragrance of roses.
So this was his true pheromone scent.
“I’m an Alpha. You’re right about that,” Xia Xiqing stated with terrifying directness. “I only disguised myself as an Omega to get close to those high-quality Omegas, to turn them into my possessions.”
As he spoke, his face drew closer bit by bit, his mist-veiled gaze drifting to Zhou Ziheng’s lips. “Like you, for instance… such a fine specimen…”
Suddenly, Xia Xiqing’s brow furrowed slightly.
Something’s off. The scent from his glands is so faint.
Before he could finish his thought, immense force slammed him against the cold tile wall. The speed was so sudden Zhou Ziheng’s arms locked tightly around Xia Xiqing’s waist, leaving him unable to resist.
He lowered his head, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as the pheromone scent grew more intense. The sweet vanilla fragrance hadn’t dissipated, but another scent—one that had been suppressed and concealed—gradually surfaced, enveloping Xia Xiqing’s body.
It was the lingering scent of gunpowder after a shot had been fired.
“What a coincidence,” Zhou Ziheng murmured, pinching Xia Xiqing’s chin. His thumb slowly rubbed against Xia Xiqing’s full lower lip, the rose-colored ink from his finger staining the corner of his mouth.
“I was faking it too.”
