It was Thursday morning, third period—PE class.
As was tradition, the first week of the new semester started with a comprehensive physical fitness assessment for all the students.
The first event was long-distance running: 2000 meters for Alphas, 1000 for Betas, and 800 for Omegas.
“Teacher! I’ve got this condition that means I can’t run!”
“Teacher, look! The school doctor gave me this note. I came down with acute appendicitis perforation last night.”
“No worries—life is all about exercise. The faster and farther you run, the quicker you’ll recover.” The PE teacher beamed with paternal affection as he herded the flock of would-be deserters onto the track like a shepherd chasing sheep. “We’ll start with the Omegas. Xie Ling, come over here and help me keep score.”
Xie Ling, bundled up in his jacket, drew envious stares from the crowd as he took the scoreboard from the teacher.
He was a bit different from the others. Truth be told, he actually enjoyed long runs. He’d always taken first in the 3000-meter at the School Sports Festival, but just a couple days ago, intense exercise had triggered his side effects. Reality didn’t permit it anymore. He’d used the excuse of an unstable body during his Susceptible Period—chronic anemia requiring rest and recovery—to skip out.
The PE teacher had coached so many classes over the years, and he’d never heard of an Alpha getting anemic during their Susceptible Period. But he knew Xie Ling’s capabilities; there was no need for the kid to dodge on purpose. Plus, he’d heard about what happened a couple days back, so he’d approved the absence.
“Man, I’m so jealous of you guys,” Xie Ling said sincerely. “I’d love to feel the wind rushing past as I sprint full out.”
Everyone else: “…”
What could they do? He was their Ling Bro. They had no choice but to forgive him. Again.
Two minutes and forty-five seconds later, Xia Yu broke away from the pack of Omegas and crossed the finish line in first place.
Xie Ling was genuinely surprised. Xia Yu’s long-run times had always been decent, but nothing like this.
“Who knew you were such a dark horse, Little Xia Yu? Sneaking in extra long-run practice over the scorching summer break? Old Cai’s gotta give you a school-wide commendation for that.”
“Nah.” Xia Yu pulled a cute lazy-egg handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Mainly, I didn’t wanna run so slow that I’d miss Qin Han warming up.”
The power of thirsting after your crush was limitless.
Xie Ling: “…”
Xia Yu suddenly realized something and grinned sheepishly. “Hey, scorekeeping must be tough. Let me grab you some water.”
Once the Omegas finished, it was the Alphas’ turn. In the meantime, Zhang Chengrui led them through warm-ups. Xie Ling multitasked, jotting down times while stealing glances at the Alpha group nearby.
A few simple stretches looked totally ordinary—or downright goofy—on everyone else. But Qin Han made them seem sleek and graceful. Even a basic leg pull had a gaggle of still-wheezing Omegas shrieking in delight.
What a show-off.
Xie Ling grumbled inwardly.
Right then, Qin Han—who’d been warming up—suddenly seemed to sense something. He looked up and flashed Xie Ling a smile.
Xie Ling froze for a second, then whipped his head away.
Five minutes later, all the Omegas had finished. The Alphas took to the track.
The cheers around the field erupted like a tidal wave, as if some pop star were holding a concert.
“Aaaaaah, go Qin Han!!!”
“Qin God, I love youuuu!!!”
“Aaaaaah, that running form is so Alpha!!!”
After the basketball incident, Qin Han’s popularity had skyrocketed. According to Xia Yu’s reliable intel, the Qin Han Fan Club had ballooned overnight to match Xie Ling’s own fanbase in size.
The PE teacher marveled. “Incredible. This kid’s got influence on par with yours.”
“But it’s all flash and no substance. Look at that speed—does he really seem like he could keep up with your favorite student, me?”
The teacher chuckled. “You don’t get it. True masters build up slowly before unleashing everything.”
From start to midway, Qin Han maintained a steady pace in the middle of the pack. Meanwhile, the Alphas who’d blasted out fast to grab attention began fading. Qin Han, on the other hand, picked up speed.
The temperature in S City had dropped sharply that day, so nearly everyone wore jackets over their short-sleeved tees. On the penultimate lap, Qin Han unzipped his, tossed it casually onto the grassy infield, and let the wind carry it away.
The move was effortlessly cool, sending the Omegas squealing like banshees.
On the final lap, Qin Han blew past Zhang Chengrui—who’d been in the lead—and crossed the finish line, his face unflushed but his heart pounding a little.
Someone in the crowd timed it discreetly. The moment Qin Han finished, they blurted out a hushed “Holy shit.”
Qin Han jogged straight over to Xie Ling to report his time, sweat beading on his skin after the 2000 meters. “Four minutes, twenty-five seconds.”
Xie Ling scribbled on the board with a straight face. “Got it. Forty minutes, twenty-five seconds.”
Qin Han’s smile didn’t waver. “Whatever makes you happy. Write whatever you want.”
“What’s wrong with you, spoiling him like that?” The PE teacher gave Xie Ling a light swat on the back of the head. “Xie Ling, be fair and objective.”
Xie Ling pouted but grudgingly entered the real time. Deep down, he knew Qin Han could run fast—they’d been junior high classmates, after all. He just didn’t want to admit it.
Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, a panting Zhang Chengrui came over to report his time. He glanced at Qin Han’s score on the board and gasped. “Holy shit, Qin God’s that fast? Ling Bro, it matches your personal best. You two are destined.”
Xia Yu—who’d just stepped on a landmine not long ago—couldn’t help but admire Zhang Chengrui’s suicidal tendencies.
Xie Ling turned dead serious. “Zhang Chengrui, reflect on this: How is it that you, an athlete, got outrun by a pretty boy who looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over? Are you still my cutest little bro like this?”
Zhang Chengrui thought to himself that his desk mate didn’t look fragile from any angle, but he didn’t dare argue with Ling Bro. He could only whine pitifully. “It must be ’cause the cheers for me weren’t loud enough.”
Xie Ling shot him a look that said, Bro, I worry about you.
Fifteen minutes later, the Betas started their run.
Class 1’s class monitor, Liu Fei, was a short Beta with top-notch grades but no athletic chops. While everyone else finished one by one, he still had a lap and a half to go—and slowing down with every step.
“Go, Class Monitor!!!” Xie Ling sat cross-legged on the ground, waving the scoreboard as he cheered.
The other students perked up at Xie Ling’s shout and joined in. “Go, Class Monitor!!! Just 600 meters left—you’ll be the star of the show!!!”
“Class Monitor’s badass! Class Monitor’s number one! Pick it up!”
Liu Fei’s face twisted in agony, teeth gritted. He was too winded to reply, so he just waved in thanks for the enthusiastic support.
But reality was harsh. Three minutes later, he barely entered the final lap.
The PE teacher checked the time. Class was short, and he had another event planned. “Keep cheering him on and scoring here. I’ll take the rest to the gym for the next test.”
“Got it. Don’t worry… I guess.”
Xie Ling nodded, but a wave of dizziness crashed over him.
By now, he knew his body well. This was the side effect acting up again.
No big deal, he told himself. Just tough it out.
Everyone except Xie Ling and Liu Fei followed the teacher toward the gym.
Qin Han lingered at the back of the group. Before leaving, he glanced toward Xie Ling.
Xie Ling wasn’t waving the scoreboard anymore. His head rested on one hand, thumb pressed to his temple. From Qin Han’s angle, he couldn’t see Xie Ling’s face.
It was brief and faint, but Qin Han hadn’t missed the slight hesitation in Xie Ling’s voice earlier when he’d spoken. It sounded like he was holding something back…
A bit later, Comrade Liu Fei finally conquered the long-run revolution. He staggered like a noodle freshly fished from boiling water.
Xie Ling wanted to help him up, but the dizziness and weakness lingered.
Liu Fei wobbled over to report his time, steps unsteady. “Seven minutes, fifteen seconds.”
Xie Ling filled it in and gave him a smile. “Not bad, Class Monitor. That’s a full minute better than last time.”
Liu Fei hadn’t expected Xie Ling to remember his previous score. Flattered, he adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and grinned awkwardly. “Thanks, Ling Bro.”
Then he tottered off, looking like death warmed over, to retrieve his jacket from the grassy infield.
“You go ahead to the teacher for the next event,” Xie Ling called. “I’ll grab your jacket for you later.”
Liu Fei thanked him profusely and shuffled away.
Xie Ling sat there recovering for another two minutes before slowly standing and heading to the grass.
Lately, he’d come to realize the drug’s effects were limited. Things would only worsen over time. The basketball game a couple days ago had accelerated his symptoms even further. To fix it, he’d have to rely on Qin Han’s pheromones, like the doctor said. But their relationship made that step impossible.
Was he not handsome or lovable enough? Why was fate so cruel?
Xie Ling’s inner self threw a pitiful somersault. Then he noticed two identical school jackets lying in the middle of the grass.
Only their class had PE here. One was Liu Fei’s. So whose was the other?
Xie Ling picked up the two pieces of clothing. Then, with his sharp senses, he detected a familiar scent emanating from one of them.
A refreshing tranquility like a summer sea breeze.
Xie Ling froze. It was Qin Han’s jacket.
Qin Han always kept his pheromones under tight control, never letting others easily detect them even when sweating from exertion. But Xie Ling, as a top-tier Omega with a high compatibility match to him, recognized it the moment he touched the jacket.
The pheromones on the jacket seemed almost alive. The instant they sensed Xie Ling’s touch, they wrapped around his limbs in a soft, lingering embrace, seeping into his skin and veins.
So comfortable. That single thought filled Xie Ling’s mind. His body, which had been shrouded in dizziness and weakness moments before, suddenly found its anchor. Instinctively, it craved even more solace.
Xie Ling stared at the jacket as if entranced, inching closer bit by bit until he buried his entire face in it. Meanwhile, Liu Fei’s jacket slipped from his other hand without him noticing.
It felt too good—like a parched traveler on the verge of dying of thirst in the desert suddenly finding a sip of water.
The sea breeze flowed slowly through Xie Ling’s body, as if merging with him completely.
His consciousness blurred in that overwhelming comfort until a low, hoarse voice suddenly rang out from behind him. “What are you doing?”
