Though he said that, over the next two days, whenever Qiu Sui went out, he still paid as much attention as possible to his surroundings.
A University had a high proportion of Alphas in the sciences, and there were plenty of high-level Alphas taking classes along his route. Plus, it was impossible to tell freshmen from sophomores just by their faces—he found himself suspecting everyone.
By Saturday, Qiu Sui slung his backpack over one shoulder with a face full of resentment, glaring at every Alpha passing by on the street. He felt like that stalker had already achieved his goal.
Now, he found every high-level Alpha annoying.
Except for Shen Zhixiao and Wen Heng.
After all, he’d had direct contact with both of them and had even deleted their WeChat contacts one by one. Inevitably, Qiu Sui placed them in a special category in his mind.
Qiu Shun and Qiao Keren both had club interviews at the Comprehensive Building that weekend, leaving Qiu Sui with nothing to do but tag along for a stroll.
The senior members greeted Qiu Sui cheerfully when they saw him, and the other officers made an exception, letting him sit in the back row of the activity room to wait.
Qiu Shun’s resume was undoubtedly stellar, and his practical demonstration went smoothly too. Throughout the interview, he remained steady and composed, speaking with calm poise.
Though Qiu Sui couldn’t hear the details from the back of the room, he wasn’t worried about his brother at all. He sat chatting with Qiao Keren instead.
Qiao Keren’s Tennis Club interview had involved a long wait in line, but since it didn’t require any complicated operations, it wrapped up in just ten minutes. Now, while waiting for the others in the lounge area downstairs, he was excitedly telling Qiu Sui about all the high-level Alpha members in the Tennis Club—every one of them had an amazing physique.
The Alphas in the Computer Association weren’t low-level either; the president and vice president were S-Rank Alphas who’d won plenty of gold medals in major competitions.
If academic clubs weren’t so cutthroat, Qiao Keren admitted he might actually join just to ogle the hot guys.
As they chatted, Qiu Shun finished his interview. He tapped his phone screen with a finger to signal them.
Seeing a new interviewee enter through the front door, Qiu Sui quickly grabbed his backpack and hurried after his brother out the back.
He bent down to adjust his backpack strap, then looked up with a smile, about to ask how the interview went—when his peripheral vision caught a intense gaze bearing down on him.
Instinctively, he glanced in that direction and was caught off guard by a face staring straight at him, just two steps away.
This was the first time in over ten days that Qiu Sui had faced Shen Zhixiao without any disguise. Even if the guy’s attention was probably on Qiu Shun beside him, Qiu Sui’s heart still skipped a beat. His lashes fluttered as he quickly averted his gaze, lowering his head and walking straight past.
Qiu Shun naturally noticed Shen Zhixiao too—the way he stared at his brother was just too intense. He also caught how Qiu Sui had bashfully ducked his head the moment he felt that gaze.
If there wasn’t something between them in private, their reactions would be hard to explain.
With that thought, Qiu Shun met Shen Zhixiao’s eyes. Just like their accidental encounter off-campus last time, the guy gave him a polite smile that seemed friendly.
But Qiu Shun still felt an odd undercurrent.
He recalled that night when he’d overheard Shen Zhixiao murmuring his brother’s name by accident, and the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Surprised about what?
Surprised that I know him… or surprised that I recognized him?
Shen Zhixiao.
The name always gave Qiu Shun an inexplicable sense of familiarity, like a fleeting impression from long ago. But he had no memory of Shen Zhixiao’s face.
So that day, under the streetlamp, his second sentence to this stranger had been: “Have we met before?”
To two strangers, it sounded a lot like flirting, though Qiu Shun hadn’t meant it that way at all. But Shen Zhixiao’s smile had turned awkward and distant, as if he’d misunderstood.
Realizing it too late, Qiu Shun had quickly apologized and stopped talking to him.
Maybe it was just that the name rang a bell, nothing more.
Qiu Shun halted his thoughts. When he came back to himself, Qiu Sui beside him wasn’t cowering like before. Instead, he stared absently at the elevator button.
He called out “Bro,” and watched Qiu Sui visibly tense up, eyes going wide and round like he was bracing for interrogation.
Seeing that, Qiu Shun dropped his curiosity about Shen Zhixiao and changed the subject: asking if he planned to go home for National Day break instead.
With October approaching, the school had already released next week’s makeup class schedule and holiday dates—a full week off, including Mid-Autumn Festival. Lady Zhuang had been asking in their chats if they’d come back.
Qiu Sui didn’t hesitate: “Yeah, heading home.”
He had zero interest in staying on campus or sightseeing in Sea City—this was where he’d be for four years, after all. And he wasn’t big on travel anyway, so naturally he’d rather go home and hang out with family and old friends.
It had been over a month since he’d touched a basketball, and his hands were itching for a game. He planned to round up some buddies.
Qiao Keren, on the other hand, was going to tour a nearby city with his roommates. When he heard, he let out a long “Aww,” looking crestfallen. “I was hoping we could all go together. My roommates are dying to meet you guys.”
Qiu Sui’s face was flushed red from the spicy hotpot, lips tingling as he slurped water and sniffled. “Mom hasn’t said it outright, but she really wants us home. She’s been going on in the family group about dreaming we were late for high school.”
That cracked Qiao Keren up with a snort—they did have that one time in high school when birthday celebrations ran late, and they overslept past their alarms until Qiu Sui’s mom got back from her morning walk and woke them, already tardy.
The memory hit all three hard. They exchanged glances and burst into nostalgic laughter.
“Can’t believe we’re in university already,” Qiao Keren said with a wistful pang. “Feels like I never left high school. Should’ve gone back to No. 1 High School more after getting that recommendation spot. Kinda miss it now.”
Qiu Sui had stayed at No. 1 High School the longest, right up until the college entrance exams. He’d snapped a ton of campus photos with his camera back then. “Next time I’m home, I’ll bring the photo album for you.”
His album was thick, stuffed with pics from elementary school on—class group shots, competition class composites, event memorials.
Qiao Keren got all touched. “Haven’t flipped through it in ages. Now I wanna see you guys with your old long hair again.”
The mood shattered instantly. Qiu Sui bristled in outrage at the embarrassing throwback and lunged to grab Qiao Keren.
Qiu Shun just sat calmly unmoved, shrugging it off, then drawled, “I’ll pull all the photos out.”
That line always sparked attacks from the other two. Qiao Keren dissolved into unladylike guffaws, ducking into the booth seat.
With homework looming, they didn’t linger in downtown long. After lunch and a quick mall browse, they hopped the subway back to school.
Qiu Sui had two group assignments and a personal simulation report due next week—group ones uploading by Monday.
He knocked out the personal one fast, but the groups? He’d added group chats with his teammates, but zero progress.
Both chats had gone radio silent after the initial pleasantries—like a frozen standoff where whoever spoke first lost.
But with only two days left, Qiu Sui couldn’t wait around, no matter how chill the others were. He decided to just do it himself.
He posted his chosen topics to the groups, propped his chin on his hand, and geared up to grind at the computer.
To his surprise, the frozen quintets thawed instantly. Seconds after his message, replies popped up one after another, treating him as leader and asking what they could help with.
Qiu Sui preferred solo work—delegating often led to uneven quality and draggy efficiency.
He thought it over, shared his finished framework, and asked if they wanted to tackle sections or if he should complete it and send for revisions.
He leaned toward the latter, and luckily, so did the group—especially the Omega in one, who sheepishly suggested rotating main contributor for future group work.
Qiu Sui didn’t see solo-finishing as unfair. They were a team with shared stakes; do what was efficient, solo or group as needed.
He slipped on headphones to tackle the programming first when Xiao Mu’s private chat pinged.
Xiao Mu was in both groups and had missed his message during the Computer Association interview. Now he was eager to pitch in.
Xiao Mu: My skills might not be top-tier.
Xiao Mu: But I can handle basics.
Xiao Mu: Extra hands could speed things up.
Xiao Mu: Want me to bring my laptop and work together?
Xiao Mu: [puppy eyes expectant.jpg]
His enthusiasm was hard to turn down. Qiu Sui hesitated, then sent his dorm number and cleared the empty desk for him.
Xiao Mu arrived fast—probably raced over right after messaging—bringing milk tea too. Seeing the double room all to himself, he said enviously, “You live alone? So free.”
Qiu Sui shut the door, gave an awkward smile that didn’t quite land, and returned to his seat.
Xiao Mu set down his laptop, sprawled over the desk, and slid the milk tea toward Qiu Sui with both hands. Grinning, he said, “Here’s to our hardworking leader.”
Qiu Sui thanked him politely for the milk tea, sent the planning doc for the other assignment straight to Xiao Mu’s computer, and said, “Just handle the first two parts—you’re a lifesaver.”
Xiao Mu noticed Qiu Sui ignoring the drink and diving back into work. He poked in the straw, sneaked a glance at the focused profile beside him, then tentatively held the milk tea right up to his lips.
![My Husband is a Drama King [Book Transmigration]](https://i1.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/transmi.jpeg?resize=151,215 "My Husband is a Drama King [Book Transmigration]")
