Shen Zhixiao stood dumbfounded at the door for a moment before slowly coming back to his senses. He lowered his head against the door and whispered a final goodbye to Qiu Sui.
Qiu Sui stood behind the door and lightly licked his lips. Only after seeing Shen Zhixiao’s figure flash past the window did he return to the desk. He curiously knocked on the weighty box, which made a crisp sound.
Puzzled, he untied the silk ribbon bow and peeled back the artistic paper on top, soon revealing the full contents.
Inside was a discontinued model he’d eyed online for ages, encased in a transparent acrylic box.
Qiu Sui couldn’t help but spin the box a full three hundred and sixty degrees, his eyes lighting up like a cat spotting food. He even opened the acrylic case and reached in to touch the frosted components. Finally, he noticed the card hanging beside the box, with blessings handwritten by Shen Zhixiao.
The handwriting wasn’t as neat as the formal script Qiu Sui was familiar with—more upright than the messy running script he’d seen before.
This must be Shen Zhixiao’s natural handwriting, Qiu Sui thought. No wonder he wrote so slowly in regular script before.
Guilty guy.
Qiu Sui cursed inwardly as he removed the card and tucked it together with that bottle of perfume. Then he went back to admiring the discontinued model, tidying up his desk in the process to make space for it. He turned it this way and that, appreciating it from every angle.
Vacation’s end brought cram sessions and finals week, but Qiu Sui had finished his term papers early, leaving him with no pressure beyond exam prep.
Shen Zhixiao seemed equally carefree, trailing behind him all day. The very next day after opening Qiu Sui’s gift, he headed out wearing the scarf and safety amulet Qiu Sui had given him.
The scarf Qiu Sui picked was dark blue with subtle dark gray embroidery—a non-heritage handicraft shop find that just suited Shen Zhixiao.
Wearing it amplified the aloof aura of an S-grade alpha, but the moment he spotted Qiu Sui, his eyelids drooped, and that icy expression melted into something small and pitiful.
Today, he’d ditched class minutes before it ended to wait outside Qiu Sui’s classroom, clutching his books to his chest to show off the hand wearing the safety amulet.
“…”
Qiu Sui couldn’t bear to look. He grabbed his books and headed straight for the stairs, with the alpha hurrying after him, calling out “Xiao Sui” in a small voice. It took him a good while to muster the courage to whisper, “Can we eat lunch together?”
Qiu Sui had already ordered takeout on his phone for pickup. Without thinking, he said no.
The guy behind him let out a quiet “oh,” probably even more dejected. Qiu Sui didn’t need to turn around to picture his expression.
“What about dinner…?” Shen Zhixiao stared at the strands of hair swaying atop Qiu Sui’s head and tried again, cautiously.
“No time.” He’d promised Qiao Keren to eat together since there were no classes.
Rejected twice in a row, Shen Zhixiao couldn’t quite mask the melancholy in his tone with another soft “oh,” but he persisted: “What about tomorrow…? Or the day after… can we eat together then?”
Qiu Sui glanced back at the stairwell corner. Sure enough, Shen Zhixiao looked utterly dejected and pitiful—like his tail would be dragging on the ground if he had one.
Qiu Sui pictured it and, with a mischievous lick of his lips, said, “We’ll see.”
Vague as it was, it beat outright rejection. The alpha instantly perked up with renewed energy.
That afternoon, as he followed Qiu Sui after class, a backward glance from Qiu Sui had him thinking they’d eat together. He straightened up unconsciously, a hint of anticipation in his brows.
The bruises on Shen Zhixiao’s cheeks had faded a lot, leaving only faint shadows around his jaw.
It actually looked kinda atmospheric now—though maybe Qiu Sui had just grown used to it.
But staring at that skin, Qiu Sui wondered why the injuries hadn’t healed after half a month.
My hits weren’t that strong, he thought. Did he skip medicine to play pitiful?
Under Qiu Sui’s scrutinizing gaze, Shen Zhixiao’s heart clenched, his muscles tensing all over. The next second, he heard, “Stop following me.”
Panic flashed across his face, but Qiu Sui quickly added, “I’m going to eat with Qiao Keren. Head back to your dorm.”
Only then did Shen Zhixiao’s taut nerves ease. He nodded obediently, head bowed, eyes fixed on Qiu Sui’s textbooks as he ventured warmly, “Can I at least carry your books back for you?”
Qiu Sui’s fingers tightened instinctively on the books, his mind flashing to the time Shen Zhixiao had slipped notes inside while “helping.”
He almost laughed inappropriately but held it in under Shen Zhixiao’s gaze. Like some young master, he handed over the books with a raised brow: “No slipping little notes inside.”
Caught red-handed, Shen Zhixiao’s lips pressed together thinly. He swallowed and murmured a low “mm,” hugging the textbooks tight to his chest.
Qiu Sui boarded another shuttle bus to meet Qiao Keren and pulled up the tracking app en route to check Shen Zhixiao’s location.
Sure enough, the guy had obediently headed back to his dorm—and stayed there. He even sent a check-in photo.
Propping his chin, Qiu Sui scrolled through the messages while listening to Qiao Keren gripe about the prof not giving exam tips.
“Whatever, no tips is fine. I’m not failing anyway.”
Qiao Keren slammed the table in frustration, talked himself out of it, then leaned over to peek at Qiu Sui—catching sight of his phone screen.
Staring at the contact name “Stupid Liar,” he blinked in confusion for half a second until the profile pic clicked. He knew who it was.
Gossip and curiosity overrode his annoyance. He slung an arm over Qiu Sui’s shoulder with a grin: “You two back together?”
Qiu Sui startled at the sudden question, fumbling his phone with an “ah?” He licked his lips unnaturally, brain short-circuiting: “Not yet…”
Qiao Keren had seen it coming—Qiu Sui still cared about Shen Zhixiao; reconciliation was inevitable. “So what’s the deal now? Back to flirting?”
Qiu Sui paused, not quite sure it fit.
Qiao Keren read his expression and “oh”-ed knowingly: “He wants to get back together, and you’re stringing him along.”
Why does that make me sound like the jerk?
Qiu Sui snapped his phone shut and shoved Qiao Keren’s head away to stop the analysis.
They horsed around a bit after eating before leaving the cafeteria. Qiu Sui took the bus back to the dorms and opened “Stupid Liar” on WeChat.
Several one-sided messages waited. He read through them, snapped a photo of the bus window, and sent it as a heads-up that he was heading back.
Back on the seventh floor, Qiu Sui spotted the tall alpha waiting at his dorm door from afar, books in arms.
No clue when he’d left, but his fingers gripping the books were pale from the cold.
Qiu Sui approached and noticed the small bag dangling from Shen Zhixiao’s other hand. Spotting him, Shen Zhixiao’s eyes brightened with a soft smile he couldn’t suppress. “You’re back,” he said quietly.
Qiu Sui swiped his card to open the door, eyeing the guy’s reddened nose tip. He couldn’t help asking, “How long have you been waiting?”
The evening chill turned their breaths into faint misty puffs under the corridor lights, like dancing particles.
“Not long.” Shen Zhixiao smiled warmly, head lowered. “Just a few minutes.”
Yeah, right.
Qiu Sui brushed Shen Zhixiao’s stiff, cold fingers taking the books and cursed inwardly.
I’d told him when I’d be back, and he still came out early to wait. Masochist? Or just playing pitiful again…
“Xiao Sui…”
As Qiu Sui slotted the books onto the shelf with some irritation, Shen Zhixiao called softly from the doorway.
Qiu Sui stepped closer, about to ask what, when his dangling fingers were lightly hooked.
Shen Zhixiao tried hanging the bag on them, too scared of rejection to go all in. He hooked with one finger first; when Qiu Sui didn’t pull away, he slipped the bag into his hand. Eyes downcast, he murmured gently, “Fried chestnuts inside. Super tasty—you’ll like them.”
Qiu Sui hooked the bag securely on reflex, staring blankly at the steaming opening. Peeled chestnuts nestled in a kraft paper bag, golden and plump, utterly tempting.
His brows twitched faintly. He looked up: “Just bought?”
Shen Zhixiao’s dry lips moved without immediate reply, but Qiu Sui could guess from his frost-kissed cheeks. Suddenly, he crooked a finger at him.
Shen Zhixiao leaned in uncertainly, shoulders tense, mouth opening to explain—when Qiu Sui suddenly yanked his scarf.
His straight posture buckled under the pull. Sensing Qiu Sui’s approach, his heart skipped and raced wildly, threatening to burst free.
Qiu Sui jerked him down and bit his lower lip hard—too rushed, their teeth clacked.
Shen Zhixiao froze, not even reacting as Qiu Sui’s sharp tooth nicked his lip. Instinctively, his hand rose to Qiu Sui’s shoulder, craving a return kiss like at the hotel—but Qiu Sui released and leaned back. Shen Zhixiao dove forward into empty air.
Qiu Sui eyed the alpha’s mix of longing and bewilderment, licked his lips, and shooed him lightly.
“Go on back.”
Leaning against the door after, Qiu Sui shut it quick with the chestnuts in hand—leaving Shen Zhixiao rooted there, arousal flushing his face red, icy fingers and cheeks turning fever-hot, like he’d crawled from a volcano.
Back in his dorm, Shen Zhixiao buzzed with excitement all night, barely sleeping.
The few hours he did manage were filled with dreams of dorm makeouts with Qiu Sui.
Their kisses always lasted over ten minutes—from blurry fumbling at the door to tumbling onto the bed, jackets shed in a haze.
Waking to an empty room brought a hollow ache, but the bite on his lip grounded him in reality.
Up before five and unable to sleep, he peeked through the window at Qiu Sui’s dorm, imagining him sleeping, dreaming… until the alarm snapped him out.
As usual, he whipped up breakfast in the machine, then waited puppy-eyed at Qiu Sui’s door with the bag. When Qiu Sui took it, he stole glances at his lips glistening from eating.
If we kiss tonight… I won’t be as slow as last night.
Shen Zhixiao swallowed hard, lost in thought. But despite pining all day, evening brought no repeat bite-kiss—not even dinner together.
That night, sleep evaded him again, but unlike last night’s thrill, he buried himself dejectedly in Qiu Sui’s leftover jacket.
The faint original scent was long gone, overwritten by heavy Green Tea Pheromones—but it gave him illusory comfort. Sleepless anxiety had him scrolling their chat history on his phone.
Baby said goodnight to me again today.
His fingers traced the emoji over and over, soothing himself inwardly.
