Chapter 208

Chapter 208

Bai Xingshu and Lin Lie spoke quietly, deliberately keeping their conversation private. No one could make out what they were saying.

Yet everyone picked up on the subtle tension—Lin Lie’s sudden mood shift was unmistakable.

Eyes darted between classmates, some instinctively lowering their voices. They all sensed something was off between their normally close Squad Leader and Deputy.

Someone nearly stepped in to ask what was going on, but before anyone could, Lin Li entered for his rounds.

He swept his gaze across the room, lingering for just a moment on Bai Xingshu and Lin Lie.

He could tell his brother was upset.

But he wasn’t surprised.

Bai Xingshu never hesitated—whether making that deal with him or calling it off once he and Shen Geng got together.

Lin Li’s expression remained calm. These feelings—his own or his brother’s—were things they both had to work through alone.

He gave a simple, quiet command: “Fall in for the competition area.”

“Yes,” the class responded in unison.

Returning to the school grounds after two years brought back memories.

They weren’t freshmen anymore, though. As juniors, even mock combat drills still felt new.

Instructors had gone over the essentials beforehand, but when it came down to execution…

Total pandemonium.

Being strictly combat-oriented, Bai Xingshu couldn’t do much to help. He simply tuned into the comms, enjoying the show as instructors barked orders and curses filled the air.

Gear took forever to arrive, teams set up in the wrong spots, commands went to the wrong units—it was a mess at every level.

By the end of the first day’s training, the Combat Division barely did anything—just some basic maneuvers before wrapping up.

The day was a complete trainwreck, in Bai Xingshu’s opinion. But as he passed the monitoring room, the metal door didn’t block the voices inside.

Surprisingly… they sounded impressed.

—"These kids are catching on fast. Showed some coordination on day one."

—"Makes sense. Since freshman year, they’ve worked together constantly."

Catching snippets of conversation, Bai Xingshu slowed his pace.

He wanted to hear more—but then came that last sentence, followed by an abrupt, confusing silence from inside.

What was *that* about? He frowned.

Of course, there was only one answer.

Inside the monitoring room, the instructors looked like they’d bitten into something sour.

They all knew the reason behind this frequent disruption.

Because of Bai Xingshu.

Almost every readjustment training session brought various unexpected mishaps—

some targeted at them, others at their classmates.

But without exception, in the end, these instructors always wound up buried in extra paperwork.

The silence held until Bai Xingshu, who'd been dragging his feet, finally left. One teacher broke the quiet with a reassuring voice: "This is a realistic combat simulation. Bai Xingshu is just a combatant—he just has to follow orders. There definitely won't be any unexpected complications this time."

It was indeed a comforting statement—

if the person being referred to hadn't been Bai Xingshu.

"Are you saying there won't be any unexpected complications when Bai Xingshu is in action?" another instructor asked, hitting the nail on the head.

And just like that, the monitoring room went dead silent again.

The teachers' unspoken grievances never reached Bai Xingshu's ears, so he calmly took the academy shuttle back to his dorm.

Oddly enough, when Bai Xingshu entered the dorm, he didn’t see Shen Geng.

As a member of the Combat Command Department, Shen Geng was undoubtedly stuck in meetings today—the first day's chaos meant they had to go through after-action reviews.

Third-year readjustment training wasn't some quick one- or two-day thing; it would only end once all departments had coordinated effectively and could work together seamlessly.

Until then, getting back to the dorm early wasn’t happening for Shen Geng.

Bai Xingshu didn’t give it another thought as he stepped into the dorm without pause.

After closing the door, he first loosened the collar of his uniform, then reached up and peeled off the gland patch.

That faint floral scent drifted faintly again.

Extremely light, yet lingering.

Standing before the mirror, Bai Xingshu studied his gland area.

Flat, smooth—looked completely normal.

But…

He touched the spot with his fingers.

It felt a little itchy and tingly—not painful, but growing steadily stronger.

There was also a subtle warmth radiating from that area.

It hadn't been like this this morning.

Recalling what Shen Geng had told him, Bai Xingshu couldn't tell whether this was normal or if he was having an allergic reaction to the patch.

Not taking any chances, he didn't put it back on. Instead, he returned to his desk and picked up his tablet.

Know thy enemy and know thyself, and you will never be defeated.

Before, Bai Xingshu had considered himself an ordinary Beta—an indifferent one who couldn't care less about this stuff.

You can’t expect others to explain everything to you, can you?

Bai Xingshu decided to brush up on the subject himself.

Since the system was down, Bai Xingshu had no choice but to rely on himself.

He pulled up a search and started looking into what he needed to know, one topic at a time.

By the time it was late into the night, Shen Geng finally pushed open the dorm door, looking worn out.

A hint of floral scent hit his nose.

Shen Geng paused mid-step, thinking at first that it was just leftover scent that hadn’t faded yet.

Out of habit, he went to turn on the air purifier—only to find it was already running.

After a beat of confusion, Shen Geng turned his gaze toward Bai Xingshu.

“What’s wrong?” Bai Xingshu, of course, had noticed the door opening. Chin propped on his hand, he watched Shen Geng’s reaction with a smirk before speaking up.

“You took off the scent patch?” Shen Geng asked, his tone blunt.

Bai Xingshu studied the complicated expression on Shen Geng’s face and teased, “What, you got a problem with your own pheromones too?”

The question caught Shen Geng off guard.

Under Bai Xingshu’s mocking gaze, Shen Geng deliberated before ultimately deciding not to explain that, in a society this tech-savvy, letting temporary mark pheromones linger in front of the Alpha who left them was kinda… flirty.

Since Bai Xingshu didn’t seem to get it, maybe there was no need to bring it up… right?

Shen Geng hesitated.

Bringing that up when they were alone might come across as inappropriate.

He mentally measured how to act around Bai Xingshu now.

Earlier that morning, Shen Geng had felt like he’d gotten some kind of answer from Bai Xingshu. This weird new tension left him clueless about how to interact properly.

Shen Geng fumbled, unsure where to look.

His usual habits suddenly felt awkward—yet somehow, getting closer seemed okay.

Clueless how to handle this, Shen Geng hesitated.

He’d always been taught to keep things proper, but after wavering, he gave in and stepped closer anyway. With nowhere else to look, his eyes landed on the openly displayed content of Bai Xingshu’s tablet.

Originally, he’d planned to strike up a casual conversation like usual—asking what Bai Xingshu was doing—but the moment he saw the search results…

He nearly choked!

His ears burned red.

Bai Xingshu, watching Shen Geng’s reaction, grinned like he’d won.

On the tablet screen, a search result was clearly displayed:

—What happens if you expose the pheromones from a temporary mark in front of the Alpha who made it?

The answers were pretty much identical.

They all said it would make an Alpha feel you belonged to them, triggering intense possessiveness—a kind of wordless teasing.

Bai Xingshu silently twirled his pen, smiling as he gazed at Shen Geng, his tone playful but with a hint of accusation. "You didn’t tell me. Did you really want me to do this in the dorm?"

The words threw Shen Geng's thoughts into disarray—was Bai Xingshu coming onto him?

Shen Geng instinctively trusted Bai Xingshu, so his mind automatically supplied an answer.

Oh. So *he* was the one with ulterior motives.

After his thoughts jumped tracks, Shen Geng looked at Bai Xingshu with a resigned expression.

He quickly realized Bai Xingshu was toying with him.

No—he was straight-up messing with him.

Bai Xingshu was inching forward, deliberately testing his limits one step at a time.

Just like during sparring, when Bai Xingshu always tried every trick in the book to push ahead.

Shen Geng was used to indulging Bai Xingshu, but as someone from the Combat Command Department, he was also accustomed to… controlling the pace.

Shen Geng stared at Bai Xingshu.

Bai Xingshu didn't feel threatened—and Shen Geng wasn’t the type to make him.

Bai Xingshu studied Shen Geng with amused anticipation.

He couldn’t wait to see how Shen Geng would react next.

He loved the bottomless patience Shen Geng showed him, but he also wanted to see something different—something beyond what he expected.

Exciting. Dangerous.

Then Bai Xingshu saw Shen Geng slowly lean toward him.

Shen Geng’s hand came down on the tablet, draping over Bai Xingshu’s fingers.

Slender, articulate fingers gradually wove through Bai Xingshu’s.

Bai Xingshu could feel the purposeful pressure, the subtle exploration for control.

Not forceful, but leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

Bai Xingshu paused, tilting his head to look at Shen Geng, now close enough to feel his breath, then let his hand go slack, allowing Shen Geng to take the lead.

Their tangled hands slid across the tablet, inch by inch, until they reached the edge.

Bai Xingshu felt the button beneath his fingertip—and Shen Geng’s finger pressing down over his.

Their combined weight pressed through.

A soft *click*.

The glowing screen blinked out.

Whatever had embarrassed Shen Geng was gone.

Bai Xingshu let out a quiet laugh.

Oh, so Shen Geng’s actually shy?

Bai Xingshu’s eyes sparkled with even more amusement. He was about to tease him, but noticed that Shen Geng hadn’t let up on his approach.

The floral scent suddenly intensified, and a faint warmth crept up the back of his neck—though Bai Xingshu barely noticed.

Shen Geng’s handsome face loomed closer and closer.

Their breaths tangled, still not touching.

Bai Xingshu watched as Shen Geng stopped a hair’s breadth away from him.

It was close enough that Bai Xingshu could have pulled back slightly to escape.

But he didn’t. His smiling eyes locked onto Shen Geng’s, daring him.

The next moment, heat grazed the corner of his mouth.

Bai Xingshu felt the hand gripping his suddenly tighten.

Just the corner?

Bai Xingshu froze briefly, unable to help scoffing inwardly.

Folks here were way too naïve.

But soon, he realized those lips hadn’t moved away—they were now mapping the curve of his own with slow, deliberate strokes.

Easing them open.

Turning feverish.

Twisting, devouring.

Like even his breath wasn’t safe.

The momentum slammed Bai Xingshu back against the chair, its legs screeching loudly across the floor.

But neither cared.

Bai Xingshu felt Shen Geng’s foot press down on the chair leg, pinning both the chair and him in place within that tight space.