He’d been compared to He Siheng countless times growing up, making him the “other family’s kid” he hated most.
He Siheng said nothing, grinding his teeth audibly.
Tan Jing sighed helplessly. “Uncle He really is my biggest rival. I haven’t maxed out affection points on my end, and he’s already pulling aggro over there.”
He Siheng, mid-fume, cracked a laugh at the phrasing.
He Siheng cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered under his breath, “I’m not gonna actually hate you over this.”
“Hm?” Tan Jing pretended not to hear.
He Siheng swallowed his embarrassment and repeated louder, “I said, I’m not gonna hate you over—”
Halfway through, he caught the amusement in the other boy’s eyes and realized.
“Hey!” He Siheng accused, annoyed. “You tricked me?”
Tan Jing laughed. His fingers covered He Siheng’s head, tugging him forward slightly while bending down to kiss his cool lips.
Sensing He Siheng stiffen for a split second, Tan Jing’s smile deepened. He whispered warmly in his ear, “This height difference is perfect. Makes kissing convenient.”
He Siheng’s bravado evaporated in an instant, his whole face burning red.
He still wasn’t used to this intimacy—especially not outside.
On one hand, he hated himself for being so weak. It was just a kiss—what was there to get shy about?
Right. He needed to toughen up!
“Can you—can you watch the occasion?”
He Siheng’s “tough” protest came out mosquito-soft, zero intimidation.
Tan Jing good-naturedly played along. “Checked before kissing. No one around.”
He Siheng insisted on one-upping him, pointing at the golden retriever between them. “Great Handsome’s right here.”
The pointed-at Golden Retriever Puppy, thinking its owner finally remembered walkies, wagged its tail furiously, tongue lolling as it barked to assert its presence.
Tan Jing glanced at it, switched the leash to his other hand, and led it to his far side from He Siheng. “What about it? Dogs eat dog food.”
Great Handsome, clueless to human speech, barked excitedly in agreement.
He Siheng, who did understand: “…”
Puppies were puppies, but real dogs were real dogs.
The innocent pup happily trotted along on its walk, following its two owners to the nearby park.
Early spring had arrived; the evening breeze was gentle, carrying a faint grassy scent. Plenty of people strolled here at night, but at this hour, the park was nearly empty. Tan Jing unclipped the leash, and the briefly freed golden retriever bolted to the grassy patch ahead to romp and roll.
It had been trained well enough not to stray too far.
He Siheng sat on the bench by the grass, legs stretched out touching the ground. After a few seconds’ hesitation, he casually broached, “Zhou Yu mentioned you have a Fan Support Group.”
Tan Jing paused mid-sitting beside him and played it cool. “Did he?”
He Siheng stuck to the tone of hearsay from Zhou Yu. “Heard it’s got a decent crowd, and they shared a bunch of your daily pics.”
He paused, then added, “Snapped by someone you were tight with in junior high, apparently. All super handsome shots.”
Tan Jing went quiet for a few seconds before asking, “You jealous?”
He Siheng denied it vehemently. “J-jealous? Am I that petty?”
Tan Jing chuckled. “But I wish you were pettier.”
He Siheng froze, then turned his face away uncomfortably and changed the subject. “I also heard… one of your friends confessed to you recently?”
Tan Jing’s brow arched. “You digging into this out of curiosity, or…?”
“…” He trailed off deliberately, but the implication was clear.
Eager for answers, He Siheng stiffly admitted, “Fine, fine. Maybe 1% annoyed and 99% curious.”
Even now, stubbornly quantifying it.
Tan Jing’s shoulders shook with laughter.
He reached out to ruffle He Siheng’s hair, explaining gently, “I have zero interest in anyone besides you.”
Before He Siheng could respond, he added, “Past, present, and future—I only like you.”
No matter how many times he heard those words, He Siheng had no defenses. His heart swelled softly, like it was filled with spring honey.
Suddenly, he figured coming clean wasn’t so bad.
Infiltrating his Fan Support Group wasn’t that embarrassing. At worst… Tan Jing would tease him about being such a fanboy.
He really did… like him, after all.
“Actually…”
He Siheng was about to speak when his phone pinged.
QQ notification. His first thought was Little Strawberry. He pulled it out—only to see it was Wang Yizhou, asking if he was asleep in the dead of night.
Tan Jing sat pressed close, catching the sender and message in his peripheral. His eyes narrowed. “What’s he want with you at this hour?”
He Siheng inexplicably felt immense pressure, sensing 99% annoyance and 1% curiosity in the tone.
“…Probably something urgent.”
He Siheng replied, “What’s up?”
But Wang Yizhou, seeing he was awake, called directly.
He Siheng’s mouth twitched. He answered, switching to speaker to prove his innocence with the single-celled organism and soothe the guy beside him.
Turning on speaker was the worst mistake of his night.
Wang Yizhou’s excited voice blared from the phone. “Heng Bro, KTV tomorrow afternoon? I set up a mixer! Got those sweet little Omegas you love!”
He Siheng nearly flung the phone, coughing repeatedly, voice shaky. “When did I ever say that?”
“Didn’t you just ask me about lively, cutesy-voiced sweet little Omegas a couple days ago?” Matchmaker Wang Yizhou reassuringly added, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Jing Bro knows.”
He Siheng: “…”
Now he did.
A hand suddenly settled on the back of his neck. He Siheng went rigid.
The boy’s cool fingers brushed above his gland, pad gently rubbing the skin there as Alpha pheromones twined up like vines.
“So that’s your type.”
Tan Jing’s voice was soft, but He Siheng caught the thick undercurrent of danger.
The next second, those gentle fingertips pressed—not lightly, not heavily—right on the sensitive gland. He Siheng jolted, reacting instantly and failing to stifle a muffled groan.
Wang Yizhou heard the noise on the other end of the phone and asked in confusion, “Heng Bro, what’s wrong with you? Are you coming tomorrow or not? Give me a straight answer.”
…Like hell he was coming!
He Siheng clamped his lips shut to keep any more strange sounds from escaping, watching helplessly as Tan Jing snatched the phone away and hung up.
“Sweet personality, coquettish speech—actually, I can do that too.”
Tan Jing looked at him with a half-smile. “Want to try it tonight?”
He Siheng: “……”
