Chapter 63: Anomaly

Qiu Shun’s lips pressed down almost imperceptibly as he recalled the contents once more to confirm. Those things he’d previously dismissed as coincidences were instantly overturned, and the jumbled thoughts in his mind began connecting from the smallest details.

Qiao Keren wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but though Qiu Shun’s expression remained blank, he seemed cooler after putting the photo away than at the start. Unable to hold back his curiosity, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

At the question, Qiu Shun shifted his gaze from the face in the photo and let go of the album, his interest in flipping through it gone entirely.

He glanced almost imperceptibly at his brother. Across from him, Qiu Sui leaned on the table edge, a pleased smile on his face as he watched Qiao Keren and Qiu Shun while occasionally glancing down at messages on his phone.

Under Qiao Keren’s gaze, Qiu Shun pondered in silence for half a second before slowly tugging his lips into a shake of his head. “It’s nothing.”

Hearing this, Qiao Keren didn’t suspect anything—after all, it was just a photo. He continued flipping through the album happily.

Qiu Shun watched his brother, wondering if his line of thinking counted as malicious speculation.

Though the person in the photo looked very different from the current Shen Zhixiao, a closer look revealed faint similarities.

The person in the photo had used an English name throughout the summer camp activities, and while Shen Zhixiao had studied abroad before, he returned to the country during holidays, so maybe…

He could no longer chalk the connection between the two up to mere coincidence. The person in the photo was very likely the Shen Zhixiao of today.

Qiu Shun and Qiu Sui hadn’t been in the same large group as the Shen Zhixiao in the photo during the camp, so he hadn’t interacted with him much. But if he remembered correctly, Qiu Sui had been pestered by the guy for over half a month.

Since they’d known each other before, then the surprise in Shen Zhixiao’s eyes when Qiu Shun had first run into him and called out his name might not have been a normal reaction at all.

He and Qiu Sui looked somewhat different from their ten-year-old selves now, but people could still recognize them through old memories.

So why had Shen Zhixiao denied knowing them afterward?

Qiu Shun’s fingers tapped slowly on the table edge—a small habit when he was thinking.

Shen Zhixiao was clearly a very clever Alpha. Even if he truly hadn’t recognized Qiu Sui at first and fallen for him on sight, he should have recalled everything upon hearing his brother’s name.

Even if not, after spending so much time with Qiu Sui, he should have realized something. But from Qiu Sui’s reaction just now, he clearly had no idea he’d known Shen Zhixiao before.

Qiu Shun’s thoughts circled back to that first encounter with Shen Zhixiao.

He’d had no impression of Shen Zhixiao at the time, and the other had likely noticed right away that Qiu Shun didn’t remember him, which was why he’d quickly composed himself and denied any prior acquaintance.

From this, Qiu Shun deduced that Shen Zhixiao didn’t want Qiu Sui or him knowing they’d met before.

So what was Shen Zhixiao’s motive?

Qiu Shun followed the logic to two conclusions. First, he just wanted to maintain his perfect image in front of Qiu Sui. Second, he was hiding some unspeakable secret he feared would be exposed.

The first motive led nowhere, so Qiu Shun skipped to the second and delved deeper.

But these deductions hinged on one premise: that the current Shen Zhixiao and the boy in the photo were the same person. Perhaps it really was all just a coincidence…

Qiu Shun stared at the smile on his brother’s lips as his brain raced, making his nerves twitch.

By now, Shen Zhixiao’s class was nearly over. Qiu Sui sent him menus from several shops to pick from.

The Alpha across from him circled a bowl of plain noodles from one shop and sent back a stick-figure kitten slinging a backpack over its shoulder, hinting that he was coming to find him.

Qiu Sui saw himself as a cool, aloof guy on the outside, and Shen Zhixiao even more so—his blank face often came off as cold, even a bit intimidating.

Amused by his own imaginings, he propped his cheek on his hand and exited WeChat. As he looked up, his eyes met his brother’s gaze dead-on.

He had no idea how long Qiu Shun had been staring. Qiu Sui blinked in confusion, his lips still curved in lingering amusement as he asked with concern, “What’s up?”

Qiu Shun started to say nothing, but Qiao Keren suggested heading to the cafeteria to line up for food.

The three rose and walked out of the milk tea shop. Qiu Shun lagged half a step behind, then glanced at his brother and murmured lowly, “Bro, has that high-level Alpha shown up again?”

The sudden question caught Qiu Sui off guard.

He hadn’t thought about that perverted Alpha in ages. He’d seemed to drop the harassment entirely, just as Shen Zhixiao had said—or maybe he’d learned Qiu Sui had a partner now, someone not to be trifled with, and didn’t dare appear.

Seeing the concern in his brother’s expression, Qiu Sui gave him a reassuring look. “He hasn’t shown up since we beat him down before.”

Qiu Shun murmured an “oh,” looking somewhat distracted.

Qiu Sui sensed something off with his brother. Soon after, when Qiao Keren wasn’t paying attention, Qiu Shun turned back and whispered, “That slip of paper—I actually remember a bit of it.”

Qiu Sui had given up when he couldn’t recall earlier, but this piqued his interest. Then he heard Qiu Shun add, “I remember the name on it and the first few digits of the phone number.”

Qiu Sui’s steps faltered at that, but Qiu Shun said no more, quickly catching up to Qiao Keren and waving his phone lightly at him.

The booth for their four-person meal was Qiao Keren’s pick, on the second floor of the cafeteria by the window.

They’d eaten together a few times before, but for some reason, Qiao Keren felt the atmosphere was subtly off this time. Qiu Shun was as quiet as ever, and Qiu Sui and Shen Zhixiao were chatting too.

Qiu Sui was still processing the info Qiu Shun had sent him, his thoughts a chaotic mess as he forced out responses.

The person in that photo was also named Shen Zhixiao—possibly even the Alpha sitting beside him. Setting aside other factors, it should have been a fated coincidence.

Yet Qiu Sui knew clearly that if the Alpha next to him was the same as the boy in the photo, then everything now was just a calculated deception.

He didn’t dare think further.

Maybe Shen Zhixiao and the photo boy just shared a name by chance, like Qiu Shun had said in the end—a simple coincidence.

But once the valve of doubt opened, it was hard to close. Qiu Sui’s mind uncontrollably linked up those overlooked details, hypothesizing and piecing them together.

From running into Shen Zhixiao on reporting day at the start of school, to encountering him in the elevator while moving into the dorm, the sudden eye contact at dinner when the Alpha from the text told him to find him, or the cafeteria run-in during military training…

Those things he’d brushed off amid the dream-induced shocks resurfaced clearly in his mind, gradually forming a smooth trail.

He couldn’t stop the thoughts, and panic over the conclusion gripped him uncontrollably.

“Baby, wanna go take a bath?” The Alpha suddenly hugged him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder, head tilting slightly to nuzzle his neck. His voice murmured gently.

Qiu Sui startled at the sound, his heart beneath his chest suddenly accelerating.

He’d been mulling this over since noon, and by evening, he was nearly mentally exhausted, his fatigue plain on his face.

Shen Zhixiao naturally noticed the anomaly and asked with concern, only to be brushed off with a casual excuse by Qiu Sui.

Shen Zhixiao was a bit unhappy, but Qiu Sui didn’t coax him. He’d sulked all afternoon before soothing himself in his mind.

He reached to pinch Qiu Sui’s cheek, but Qiu Sui happened to turn his head, dodging it.

Shen Zhixiao paused, looking at Qiu Sui’s seemingly oblivious face before resting his hand back on his shoulder with a soft smile. “I’ve already filled the tub and got your pajamas ready. Wanna go wash up? Hmm?”

His gentle coaxing made Qiu Sui’s heart ache sourly. If it was all just coincidence, how hurt would Shen Zhixiao be if he learned he’d been mistrusted and doubted?

With the weather turning cold, Qiu Sui often dawdled until late before bathing. Shen Zhixiao didn’t push, smiling as he kissed his cheek. “Alright, baby.”

The weight lifted from his shoulder, and Qiu Sui’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on his phone. From the corner of his eye, he watched Shen Zhixiao set down his phone and head to the bathroom.

Once the bathroom door shut, he rose slowly, grabbed Shen Zhixiao’s phone, and entered his birthday.

After unlocking the screen, he checked every app, focusing on texts and WeChat, even the hidden album.

Seeing the photos Shen Zhixiao had taken of him during the last Susceptible Period, Qiu Sui’s initial panic surged into anger. His cheeks flushed hot—he wanted to delete those indecent shots right then.

But not yet. He was snooping through the guy’s phone; better to delete them openly later when Shen Zhixiao came out of the bath.

His mind heated, he quickly exited and cleared the cache.

After a fruitless search, Qiu Sui wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or that something was still off.

As he went to set the phone down, a thought struck him. He opened WeChat again, tense as he checked for alternate accounts in the settings.

There were none.

Shen Zhixiao had only one WeChat account.

Qiu Sui cleared the cache, set the phone down, and stood silently for a moment. Glancing at the time, he turned to the laptop on the tea table opposite Shen Zhixiao.

They often swapped using the computer, and he’d never seen anything suspicious on it.

He didn’t hold much hope for checking the laptop. After quickly entering the password, the desktop loaded.

He’d opened the files there before when bored and skipped them now, clicking a few suspicious compressed folders first. Nothing. He erased his traces, checked hidden files—still nothing.

Qiu Sui gripped the keyboard, a bit annoyed, and tried a few more guesses. All wrong.

Growing impatient and heated, he stared at the screen to calm down, recalling the summer camp timing—it had been mid-July…

He inputted dates one by one from July 20th that year. On July 26th, it actually unlocked.

Qiu Sui’s fingers tightened on the mouse, the knuckles whitening slightly as he stared at the folder inside. He’d already cracked the password, but the fierce urge to peek that had gripped him earlier had vanished entirely.