Chapter 122

Chapter 122

2.

You're waiting for a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope the train will take you, but you’re not entirely sure.

July 2010, New York.

By the time they stepped out of the IMAX theater at Lincoln Center, even Xu Zhangying felt a bit dizzy—to say nothing of Zhao Yang.

That summer, there were only two hot topics among high school students: the "World Expo" and *Inception*.

Though its mainland release wouldn’t come until September, that didn’t stop the Chinese internet from buzzing about this brain-twisting, plot-twisting blockbuster. So, after their college entrance exam results came out, watching *Inception* in theaters was added to the itinerary of Xu Zhangying, Xia Qing, and Zhao Yang’s short trip to the U.S.

The film’s plot was indeed layered with twists, and since American theaters didn’t provide subtitles, Xu Zhangying had to process every line with a slight delay—so much so that he felt almost nauseated by the end of his first viewing.

Zhao Yang, sitting next to Xu Zhangying, had given up after less than twenty minutes, treating the entire two-and-a-half-hour runtime as nothing more than an IMAX showcase like an extended video game cutscene.

At the time, Zhao Yang sported a trendy snapback and a pair of AJs. Though he looked a bit silly standing in the middle of the ticket hall with a bucket of popcorn in his arms, he already exuded the aura of a wealthy second-generation international student.

Beside him, Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing both wore similarly styled black and white T-shirts, long pants, and even matching watches and necklaces. The only difference was that Xu Zhangying had nothing in his hands, while Xia Qing carried a compact crossbody bag.

Xu Zhangying had heard more than once that people joked about him and Xia Qing wearing "couple outfits" every day, but that really wasn’t his fault—ever since Xia Qing and Artemisia moved in three years ago, Ye Xin had started buying clothes in duplicate from all over the world, always in two sets.

For outerwear and T-shirts, Ye Xin at least picked different colors, but for watches, shoes, and accessories, she simply bought identical pairs. As a result, no matter how Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing mixed and matched, there was always an uncanny resemblance between them.

"My listening skills still need work. I had to process every line half a beat slower," Xu Zhangying complained, throwing an arm around Xia Qing’s shoulder and tugging at the mask under his chin. "It made the plot even more confusing for me."

"The movie itself is packed with information," Xia Qing said, letting the Elite Alpha lean his full weight on him while taking Xu Zhangying’s mask, folding it, and tucking it into his bag.

Though a year younger than Xu Zhangying, Xia Qing was now almost as tall as him. The delicate, pretty features of his youth had faded over the past three years, replaced by sharper, more mature lines, and his translucent amber eyes now carried a livelier spark.

"At least you could understand it," Zhao Yang groaned, setting his popcorn bucket down on a table after enduring two hours of untranslated visuals. "I only caught the first half of every line. By the time the climax rolled around, I’d just figured out the protagonist’s name—maybe I should just go back to China and retake the exams."

The week before, Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing had both submitted their first-choice applications to Peking University, while Zhao Yang had received an offer from NYU—after spending two whole semesters grinding through that damned TOEFL, bolstered by Zhao Xiuyi’s financial backing and Xu Zhangying’s brutal spoken English drills, he’d finally made it.

Though Zhao Xiuyi had never imposed academic demands on Zhao Yang, that didn’t mean he was indifferent to his only son’s future. Starting from their second year of high school, college admissions consultants had been in contact with Zhao Yang, constantly discussing his career and academic aspirations. After considering his interests and abilities, they’d compiled a list of dozens of universities and majors.

In the end, Zhao Yang played it safe and got into NYU’s international business program—a moderately challenging field with solid job prospects. With Zhao Xiuyi’s backing, a comfortable and fulfilling life was practically guaranteed.

The only downside? None of his close friends were coming to the U.S. with him.

Forget Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing, those two academic powerhouses who’d aced the national exams and secured spots in China’s top university—even Qi Feng, who’d always been lost and confused, had been admitted early to the University of Public Security. She was now going through background check processes and had missed this week’s trip abroad.

Zhao Yang had originally hoped to bring Qi Feng along to the U.S. At the start of their final year, he’d even considered asking Zhao Xiuyi to cover her application fees—after all, if Li Jiayu, that guy who couldn’t even recognize all 26 letters, had been dragged to Pennsylvania by Li Xuyin, Qi Feng was surely a better candidate.

But for some reason, when Xu Zhangying saw the public security university’s admissions notice, he sensed potential in Qi Feng and encouraged her to apply—and against all odds, she got in.

Zhao Yang never said it out loud, but he felt sour about it. The thought of starting school alone in a foreign country two months from now gave him grade-school graduation jitters—nothing but resistance and fear.

After all, since graduating elementary school, Zhao Yang, Xu Zhangying, and Qi Feng had never been separated. Even though Xia Qing had later joined and taken up half of Xu Zhangying’s attention, it still meant more company.

Xu Zhangying knew exactly what Zhao Yang was thinking—otherwise, he wouldn’t have made this special trip to the U.S. to help him adjust.

Coincidentally, Zhao Xiuyi and Ye Xin were currently busy with a major project in Washington.

"Don’t treat movies like real life," Xu Zhangying said with a grin, throwing an arm around Zhao Yang’s neck. "Movie dialogue is 50% faster than normal speech, and most of the vocabulary isn't even used in daily conversation. Right, Xia Qing?"

Zhao Yang looked up to see Xia Qing, who’d grown up abroad, nod along. "Everyday talk is way simpler. Even if your professors have accents, you'll get used to it."

"Besides, Uncle Zhao has arranged a personal assistant for you, hasn't he?" Xu Zhangying patted Zhao Yang's shoulder and threw an arm around him as they walked toward the theater exit.

"Don't worry, you'll adjust soon. Even if Uncle Zhao isn't around, my mom comes to the U.S. often—she’ll definitely swing by to see you when she’s here."

As the words left his mouth, the three of them stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk of Lincoln Center. The sky had darkened completely, and the whole plaza glowed with bright lights. In the distance, the wide avenue was bustling with evening rush-hour traffic.

"That’s not it," Zhao Yang sighed, scuffing a soda can tab on the pavement. "My dad doesn’t come to the U.S. much. Once this project winds up, he’s heading back to China. Europe, Japan, and Korea are his company’s primary markets."

"Is that so?" Xu Zhangying shared a look with Xia Qing, surprised. "I thought your family’s company was expanding overseas since my mom’s been flying back and forth to the U.S. so much these past six months."

It was summer break, and New York was packed with tourists. The three boys had to dodge through crowds of people carrying large backpacks as they talked.

"Not at all. My dad’s company hasn’t even set up a branch in North America yet. This time, it’s because the headquarters scored their biggest project in two years—something about building a cloud-based database system for a telecom conglomerate. It’s supposed to wrap up by September."

Though Zhao Yang wasn’t involved in the family business, Zhao Xiuyi occasionally mentioned his work during their chats, so he naturally knew more about the adults’ professional lives than Xu Zhangying did.

"Cloud… database?" Ever since returning from the Tokyo competition, Xu Zhangying had kept his distance from anything related to coding or the internet. Out of habit, he turned to the resident tech whiz and asked, "Xia Qing, what’s that?"

"Simply put," Xia Qing thought for a few seconds before answering seriously, "Uncle Zhao’s company is providing this enterprise with a set of applications and a secure database to improve efficiency. Especially for a telecom company that likely operates globally, cloud services are essential."

Clearly, even this simplified explanation was still too complex for the other two. Xu Zhangying and Zhao Yang exchanged equally baffled expressions. But teenagers living easy lives rarely dwelled on their parents’ careers, so they quickly moved on.

Zhao Yang popped open his soda and said to Xu Zhangying, "When I was little and asked my dad what he did, he just told me he 'made computers.'"

"That’s such a coincidence," Xu Zhangying laughed. "When my mom first joined Uncle Zhao’s company, she told me she 'sold computers.'"

It was the summer of 2010. Many coastal enterprises in China were still reeling from the 2008 financial crisis—the stock market crash and waves of bankruptcies remained fresh in people’s memories. Though Zhao Xiuyi’s Fanyuan Group was in the high-tech sector, a significant portion of its revenue came from overseas, leaving it vulnerable to the financial meltdown. At one point, the company nearly went under.

Zhao Xiuyi’s tech firm specialized in developing and providing computer software services, such as cloud-based financial and asset solutions for large corporations. He was among the earliest in China to get into this field, but internationally, he wasn’t a pioneer, so the pressure to compete in overseas markets was immense.

Still, it wasn’t until Zhao Yang’s comment that Xu Zhangying realized why Ye Xin had been jet-setting constantly since the end of last year.

Before the winter finals, Ye Xin had made a special trip to Beijing to have dinner with Xu Zhangying. At the time, she mentioned working on a major bidding project with Zhao Xiuyi—now, it was clear they had won the contract with that telecom company.

Ye Xin had initially handled Fanyuan Group’s Japanese and Korean markets, but as her capabilities grew, she transitioned to the European marketing division. By the time Xu Zhangying was in middle school, her English was already remarkably fluent. A couple of years ago, she even made time to pursue an MBA at a university in Guangzhou—though halfway through, she thought the program was a joke and, like many of her peers, had her secretary attend classes on her behalf while she collected her graduate degree.

"Still, I don’t think you need to worry, Zhao Yang," Xu Zhangying said, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders with a grin. "Uncle Zhao loves you so much—even after this project ends, he’ll definitely fly over to see you often."

As they spoke, the trio leaned in closer near the fountain at Lincoln Center. The sound of flowing water brought a cool breeze through the air.

"Come on, we’ve been in the U.S. for a week, and he hasn’t visited us once. Instead, we have to fly to Washington tomorrow to meet him," Zhao Yang muttered, tugging at the fabric strips on his designer T-shirt.

"We should respect the adults’ work, you know," Xu Zhangying said, spinning his phone in one hand while the other stayed tucked in his pocket. "Uncle Zhao’s the chairman, and my mom’s just his subordinate—yet she hasn’t even called me once."

"She called the morning before last," Xia Qing interjected calmly. "You were just asleep and didn’t hear it. I answered."

"Alright, my bad. I misjudged Madam Ye," Xu Zhangying said, pretending to feel bad before his face fell again. "But Uncle Zhao calls Zhao Yang every single day! Isn’t fatherly love supposed to be silent?"

Zhao Yang sighed. "Yeah, but he always asks about you and Xia Qing—says Auntie Ye told him to."

"What kind of logic is that?" Xu Zhangying grumbled, stuffing his phone into Xia Qing’s chest bag. "I might suspect they’re dating, but Uncle Zhao isn’t my stepdad yet. He can’t just substitute for actual parental affection like this."

At this, Zhao Yang’s previously gloomy expression brightened. He turned to the other two excitedly. "See? I knew you guys noticed it too!"

The three boys leaned in closer. Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing exchanged a glance before the former lowered his voice. "How could we not? It’s been, what, 21 months since my mom last dated—"

"21 months," Xia Qing corrected.

"Right, 21 months. Since the 2008 stock market crash, so we remember it clearly," Xu Zhangying said, crossing his arms with a serious look. "But this makes no sense—so I think she must be secretly dating someone and just not telling me."

"Is this all the evidence you two have?" Zhao Yang, who had just gotten excited, couldn't help but feel disappointed upon hearing this. "I thought you'd actually witnessed something."

"Of course it's weird. My mom is so beautiful and works so hard," Xu Zhangying spread his hands, looking utterly matter-of-fact. "If she didn’t date, she’d just be stressed and wasting her life. Besides, even though she never introduces me to the people she dates, she’s never hidden it from me either."

"After my dad passed away over two years ago, she never went more than three months between relationships. This time, it’s been a full 21 months—That’s gotta be weird, right?"

"But my dad hasn’t dated at all since my mom passed away," Zhao Yang tried to follow the logic but still couldn’t make sense of it. He frowned. "And by your reasoning, if A-Xin hasn’t told you, shouldn’t that mean she isn’t dating?"

"Dude, feelings aren’t logical—but the messy ones are the realest," Xu Zhangying said solemnly. "If she met someone she really likes, it’s totally reasonable not to tell her son."

"What the hell kind of logic is that? How did you even come up with this twisted reasoning?" Zhao Yang furrowed his brows, then suddenly seemed to realize something, looking at the Alpha elite in shock.

"Wait, Xu Zhangying, don’t tell me—you haven’t told your mom that you and Xia Qing are dating, have you?"

Xu Zhangying coughed, then turned his face away sheepishly, muttering, "If she doesn’t ask, I won’t tell. Though I’m pretty sure she already knows, just like I know she’s probably dating Uncle Zhao."

"Holy shit," Zhao Yang was speechless. He looked at Xu Zhangying, then at Xia Qing, who remained completely unfazed, and couldn’t help but complain, "Outsiders might not notice, but how could family not see through your little affair?"

"Screw you, who’re you talking about?" Xu Zhangying instinctively raised his foot to kick Zhao Yang but suddenly stopped, hesitating. "Wait a second—does that mean you’ve actually seen something, Zhao Yang?"

"No fucking way," Xu Zhangying froze for a second upon hearing this, but then he heard Xia Qing, who had zeroed in on the key point, ask, "Why would A-Xin be dropping Uncle Zhao off? He should have a driver."

Zhao Yang replied, "I was leaning on the windowsill and heard my dad thanking A-Xin, saying the driver had taken leave."

Xu Zhangying said, "Well, that’s not really anything. Just a worker giving the boss a ride. I thought you’d actually discovered something."

Zhao Yang added, "But after the door closed, I heard my dad call the driver downstairs and tell him not to come in for the next couple of days either."

Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing: "..."

"No fucking way," Xu Zhangying looked dazed, unable to believe it. "Uncle Zhao’s like that?—My dad was nothing like him!"

Zhao Yang said, "How would I know? A-Xin is nothing like my mom either!"

"Grown-up relationships are so low-key," Xu Zhangying accepted the reality in just one second, sighing. "I thought my mom preferred something more passionate."

"But are they not officially together yet? Why haven’t they told us?" Zhao Yang tilted his head back, gazing at the grand theater building in the distance, puzzled. "They’re adults—not like you two, who are basically in college."

"Puppy love? We’re practically college students already," Xu Zhangying retorted immediately, but before he could say much more, Zhao Yang’s phone rang.

Zhao Yang glanced at the caller ID and answered right away. "Uncle Han, it’s me. Sorry, I forgot to call you earlier."

An older man’s voice came through the phone. After a brief exchange, Zhao Yang hung up and gestured to Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing. "Let’s go. Uncle Han is here to pick us up."

The three immediately headed back toward the sidewalk. Within minutes, a black car with American plates pulled up to the curb, and a middle-aged man in a suit stepped out—Zhao Xiuyi’s guy, here to chaperone the kids.

Since they were flying to Washington the next day, the three kids would return to the hotel for dinner and rest after the movie tonight. Over their six days in the U.S., Han Cheng had arranged everything, from Hollywood to Buffalo, then back to NYC to visit the Empire State Building, the Met, and NYU. The kids were already tight with him.

"Young sir," Han Cheng, who was around Zhao Xiuyi’s age, wore glasses and had a slightly plump middle-aged build but a very gentle demeanor. He grinned, holding the Rolls’ door open for the kids.

Zhao Yang habitually took the front passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt while saying sheepishly, "Uncle Han, you can just call me Zhao Yang or Xiao Yang from now on. You work for my dad—you’re basically family."

Since he was ten, Zhao Yang’d lived with his grandparents in Guangzhou. His family structure was simple—their place wasn’t huge, and they only had a cook at home. Unlike Li Xuyin or Lin Shuhua, he had no clue about class stuff. Being called 'Young Master' made him cringe just like Xu Zhangying—first he’d shudder, then get all awkward.

"Got it, Xiao Yang. My bad," Secretary Han chuckled as he started the car, hands on the wheel. "Old habits die hard."

At 7 p.m. Eastern Time, it was 8 a.m. in Guangzhou. In the backseat, Xu Zhangying turned to Xia Qing again. Xia Qing locked eyes with him, then wordlessly handed over his phone.

As Xu Zhangying swiped open his phone, he indeed found that Qi Feng had just posted a selfie with Artemisia in the QQ (a Chinese messaging app) group. The iPhone 4’s camera wasn’t great, but two faces crammed onto the screen, beaming, showed both the human and the cat were in high spirits.

Zhao Yang, sitting in the passenger seat, watched the artistic buildings and flickering streetlights pass by outside the window before turning to Secretary Han and asking, "Uncle Han, do you know how much longer my dad will stay in the U.S.?"

Han Cheng, driving steadily, replied warmly, "Chairman Zhao is here for the preliminary testing phase. The other party is one of the largest telecommunications companies in North America. Our group has partnered with them to build a data center at their Washington headquarters. Chairman Zhao brought the best senior engineering team this time to test the cloud platform and database security."

Then, Han Cheng glanced at Zhao Yang with a smile and added, "So, Xiaoyang, I’m not sure yet when Chairman Zhao will return to China. But today, he suddenly withdrew half of the engineers, so I think it should be soon."

"Really?" Zhao Yang said happily. "He hasn’t been home for almost two weeks."

"Uncle Zhao is really impressive," Xu Zhangying remarked, scrolling through a webpage before looking up with a grin. "I just searched it up—it seems a company called Fan Yuan is the only domestic one providing database products."

"Yes, we’re the only one in China. If you include cloud computing services, there were fewer than ten companies globally by the end of last year," Han Cheng said proudly. "Even so, the bidding for Baker Corporation’s project was fierce, with hundreds of companies worldwide submitting proposals. Chairman Zhao and CEO Ye put in a lot of effort for this bid, so they’ve been deeply involved after securing the contract."

"After all, the first contract in the U.S. is about establishing a foothold in the North American market. If everything goes smoothly, Chairman Zhao intends to use this opportunity to expand into the region."

Xu Zhangying was slightly taken aback by Han Cheng’s words. Though he didn’t fully understand the company’s strategic plans, he could sense from this that Zhao Xiuyi hadn’t arranged Zhao Yang’s education haphazardly. If the company expanded into North America, he’d likely be able to fly over often to see Zhao Yang.

Lifting his gaze, Xu Zhangying indeed saw Zhao Yang’s mood brighten considerably as he happily picked up his phone to reply to Qi Feng.

Leaning back in the spacious car seat, Xu Zhangying turned his head in the quiet, dimly lit interior. He first saw Xia Qing’s face, eyes already closed, then looked past the window at the brightly lit streets outside. Though the college entrance exam results had been out for two weeks, it was only now that he suddenly tasted the carefree ease of leisure.

It was a plain yet extraordinarily precious feeling—elusive as smoke or dreams, usually appearing in fleeting, accidental moments of childhood and adolescence. At this moment, Xu Zhangying didn’t realize that many people in the world would spend their entire lives searching in vain for this emotion again—himself included.

At 7 a.m. the next morning, Xia Qing, already washed up, began packing his suitcase in the hotel suite while Xu Zhangying crouched nearby, empty-handed, watching him work.

Xia Qing never complained about Xu Zhangying not helping. On one hand, Xu Zhangying’s assistance only made things messier—his packing skills were about on par with Artemisia’s, shoving whatever he wanted haphazardly into his suitcase before calling it a day. On the other hand, this was the "grace period" where Xia Qing was most tolerant of Xu Zhangying.

Xu Zhangying had started intensive training last July and barely returned home even by the time of the national art exams at the end of the year. In between, Xia Qing had detoured during a competition in Beijing to visit him for a few days. After the unified exams in December, Xu Zhangying had to prepare for university entrance exams, so he spent the next few months traveling across the country until April. By the time he finally returned, it was straight to preparing for the written exams.

All in all, Xu Zhangying had hardly been home the entire year. With Ye Xin also constantly busy, it was Xia Qing—an outsider—who ended up holding down the fort with just Artemisia for company.

After the exams ended, Xu Zhangying found life becoming weightless. No matter what he did, Xia Qing never got angry, his beautiful eyes always brimming with affection. Once, Xu Zhangying had gotten drunk at a gathering with his art classmates and nearly passed out on the floor, but Xia Qing found him and carried him home. Even the next morning, hungover, Xia Qing didn’t scold him—leaving Xu Zhangying so touched he nearly got misty-eyed. (Though it would’ve been even better if Xia Qing didn’t take it out on him in bed so often.)

Now, Xu Zhangying crouched on the carpet, clumsily folding a wrinkled T-shirt before proudly attempting to place it beside Xia Qing’s military-perfect folds—only for Xia Qing to mercilessly pluck it out and toss it onto the bed.

"Xia Qing, how could you? Are you mad at me for messing things up?" Xu Zhangying pouted, on the verge of tears.

Xia Qing said, "That’s what you’re wearing today. Go change."

"Sure thing!" Xu Zhangying instantly perked up, springing up to quickly strip off his robe and pull on the T-shirt before hunting around for his pants.

Just as Xia Qing handed him the prepared pants, they suddenly heard Zhao Yang’s voice from the next room—loud, as if arguing with someone.

They had booked a multi-room business suite in New York. Earlier, Xia Qing had gone to the living room to retrieve the camera, leaving their door slightly ajar, so Zhao Yang’s voice carried through clearly.

Xu Zhangying’s heart clenched. He hastily pulled on his pants and hurried out with Xia Qing, pushing open Zhao Yang’s door to find him standing by the window in just jeans, shirtless and flushed with anger, gripping his phone as he shouted at the person on the other end: "Why didn’t you tell me earlier? How can you just decide out of nowhere that I can’t go?"

Xu Zhangying stepped forward, stopping beside Zhao Yang, and heard Zhao Xiuyi’s voice on the line, soothingly explaining something—but Zhao Yang cut him off after just a few words: "You’re lying to me again! Do you think I even wanted to come to the U.S.? You haven’t seen me once in all these days! What do you mean by telling me to go back now?"

Seeing Zhao Yang’s tone getting out of hand, Xu Zhangying quickly whispered, "Zhao Yang!"

Zhao Yang abruptly stopped, turning teary-eyed to look at Xu Zhangying. In the sudden quiet, Xu Zhangying clearly heard Zhao Xiuyi’s voice: "Xiaoyang, is Changying there? Can you let him take the phone?"

Zhao Yang handed the phone to Xu Zhangying, who took it and looked up to see Zhao Yang angrily wipe his eyes with his arm before turning away.

"Hello, Uncle Zhao, it’s me," Xu Zhangying said, unsure what was happening but striving to sound calm.

"Changying, I’m so sorry. Some new issues came up with our work here, so I won’t have time to host you and A Qing anymore. I’ve asked Secretary Han to book your return flight for this afternoon. Can I invite you both another time?" Zhao Xiuyi’s voice remained gentle and composed, but Xu Zhangying, with his keen senses, detected the hidden weariness beneath it.

It was strange. Even if he was too busy to see them, why would Zhao Xiuyi, who had always respected children's autonomy, buy their return tickets without prior notice?

A flicker of suspicion crossed Xu Zhangying's mind, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he replied earnestly, "Of course, Uncle Zhao. Your work comes first."

"Thank you, Zhangying. I truly can't get away right now, but your mother will return ahead of schedule to accompany you back home for some rest." Zhao Xiuyi's tone remained composed, though after a brief pause, he added hesitantly, "Xiaoyang is very upset. Could you help calm him down?"

"Of course. Don’t mind his angry words," Xu Zhangying said, glancing at Zhao Yang, who was wearing his T-shirt. He spoke directly, "Zhao Yang is just acting up because he hasn't seen you in two weeks and misses you. I'll talk to him later—"

"I am not!" Zhao Yang, still fuming, immediately retorted loudly.

On the other end of the line, Zhao Xiuyi seemed stunned into silence for two or three seconds before saying softly, "Zhangying, please tell Xiaoyang I'm sorry. When I return, I'll spend time with him properly."

"It's alright, Uncle Zhao. You can tell him yourself," Xu Zhangying said, shoving the phone at Zhao Yang without hesitation. "Zhao Yang, answer Uncle Zhao."

Zhao Xiuyi must have apologized sincerely again, but Zhao Yang remained stiff. "Whatever. If you don’t want to see me, fine."

With that, Zhao Yang hung up.

In the morning light, the three teenagers exchanged glances. Three seconds later, Zhao Yang, still breathing heavily in anger, threw his phone onto the carpet and pulled the blanket over his head and flung himself onto the bed.

"Rushing us back like this—he’s just afraid I’ll bother him, isn’t he?" Zhao Yang pulled the blanket over his head and snorted. "As if I even want to see him."

"Don’t be so mad. Uncle Zhao definitely doesn’t think that way," Xu Zhangying said, glancing at Xia Qing before hopping onto Zhao Yang’s bed. He flopped down, resting his head on his arms as he addressed his sulking friend under the blanket. "Look on the bright side—going back early means we get an extra month to hang out. He’ll come back once he’s done with work."

Zhao Yang said nothing, only tugging at the blanket, but Xu Zhangying had it pinned down firmly. No matter how he struggled, it was useless.

Xu Zhangying grinned as he watched Zhao Yang’s futile tantrum, but when he looked up, he noticed Xia Qing still standing where he was. The morning light illuminated the beta’s pale face as he stared quietly at the phone lying on the floor.

He, too, seemed lost in thought.

July 2010, Guangzhou.

By the time their plane landed in Guangzhou, it was already past midnight. The summer rain never seemed to stop. The moment the cabin door opened, the familiar, humid heat enveloped the boys as they stepped onto the jet bridge, as if instantly stripping away their memories from across the ocean.

Zhao Yang’s temper flared up quickly but faded just as fast. After the long flight, he had nearly forgotten his argument with Zhao Xiuyi. When Han Cheng cautiously asked if he wanted to return to his grandfather’s house, Zhao Yang took off his headphones and immediately declared he was going to Xu Zhangying’s place instead. Relieved, the adults chuckled and changed direction.

A year after Xia Qing moved into Xu Zhangying’s home—around the time they started their second year of high school—Ye Xin moved them to a new house. Though farther from school, the upscale apartment was larger, with four bedrooms and two living rooms, giving each of the three boys and the cat their own space—though Artemisia always insisted on sleeping in human beds, so her room was eventually converted into Xu Zhangying’s art room.

2007 had been a year of skyrocketing housing prices, so even for Ye Xin, who was already making good money, buying a new home alone was a heavy burden. When Xu Zhangying asked about it, his mother simply said she’d be paying off the mortgage for another decade. Since their family never involved the kids in financial matters, neither Xu Zhangying nor Xia Qing knew any more details.

The only thing they noticed was that an extra 2,000 yuan appeared in each of their bank accounts every month.

Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing’s rooms were identical in layout but polar opposites in style. Xia Qing’s was as neat and orderly as a study, while Xu Zhangying’s, just like when he was a child, was cluttered with comic books, DVDs, and game cartridges. Besides his computer, he had gaming consoles, and the floor was covered with a thick carpet—perfect for flopping down with the cat or hosting Zhao Yang and Qi Feng for sleepovers.

Han Cheng dropped them off at their apartment building before leaving. The three boys, familiar with the routine, dragged their luggage into the elevator. Jet-lagged, Xu Zhangying could barely keep his eyes open. After swiping his key card, he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes.

A few seconds later, Xia Qing gave him a nudge from behind, prompting Xu Zhangying to stumble out after Zhao Yang. Before they even reached the door, they heard a cat’s meow from inside.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps. The door clicked open, revealing Qi Feng, who had been watching the house and cat. Her hair was a mess, and her bright eyes—much like the calico cat at her feet—lit up at the sight of them. "Why’d you pick such a late flight? I’ve been waiting on the couch this whole time."

The three boys dropped their luggage in the entryway without thinking. Zhao Yang headed straight for the shower, Xu Zhangying went to find the cat, and Xia Qing went to turn on the AC in their rooms.

Artemisia darted excitedly around the apartment, leaping into Xu Zhangying’s arms one moment and then sprinting off to find Xia Qing the next. Like an overenthusiastic puppy, she distributed her affection equally between her two favorite humans.

By the time Xia Qing finished turning on the AC in both rooms and emerged with the clingy cat rubbing against his leg, Xu Zhangying was already sprawled on the couch while Qi Feng poked his cheek.

But Xu Zhangying’s rest didn’t last long. With a loud meow, a furry missile launched itself onto his chest, knocking the breath out of him before settling on his neck and enthusiastically licking his chin and mouth.

"Damn it—" Xu Zhangying struggled to open his eyes, only to find Artemisia’s striking heterochromatic gaze fixed on him as she meowed loudly. "Xia Qing, help!" he yelped, and in the next second, Xia Qing pulled him up by the arms.

"Go shower before bed," Xia Qing said, dragging Xu Zhangying to the room like he was hauling a prisoner.

"I don’t want to! I’m already dry. I’m dead tired," Xu Zhangying whined, pulling a pitiful face.

Standing behind him, Qi Feng yawned, bent down to pick up Artemisia, and muttered, "I’m going back to sleep," before heading into Xu Zhangying’s room.

Whenever Zhao Yang and Qi Feng stayed over, all four of them plus the cat would cram into one room. Despite the spacious house, they always squeezed together. Since only one person and the cat could sleep on the bed, they’d usually decide with rock-paper-scissors.

But with Xu Zhangying and the other two away on their trip, Qi Feng had brought her blanket and slept in his room. Now, the four soon-to-be college students had no energy left to argue over the bed, so Xia Qing simply dragged Xu Zhangying into his own room.

Qi Feng pushed open the door to the neighboring room but immediately let out an angry shout after a glance inside: "Zhao Yang, you jerk! Why’d you throw my blanket on the floor? The bed’s mine!"

The door closed, and the sound of Qi Feng and Zhao Yang’s argument instantly faded. Xu Zhangying was shoved into the bathroom in Xia Qing’s room. Though he rarely entered Xia Qing’s space, the bathroom layout was the same, so he could wash up even with his eyes closed.

After brushing his teeth, Xu Zhangying pulled on his loungewear and stumbled out, only to be yanked back by a hand just as he was about to collapse onto the bed. A voice, both exasperated and merciless, cut in: "Your T-shirt’s inside out."

Xu Zhangying could only sit on the bed with his eyes closed, letting Xia Qing yank off his T-shirt, turn it right side out, and tug it back on before giving him a gentle push. Finally, he face-planted into the bed, finally content.

When he woke again, it was from suffocation. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing but white, accompanied by a motorcycle-loud purr. After a dazed moment, he realized Artemisia was sprawled over his face, happily dozing while waiting for him to wake.

Xu Zhangying struggled but couldn’t shake off the ten-pound feline. Her hind legs were planted on his chest, her fluffy belly plastered over his face, while her head rested on the pillow like a human’s, creating an inescapable purring prison determined to suffocate her beloved brother in his sleep.

Spitting out cat fur, Xu Zhangying also noticed someone tightly hugging him—his arms and legs pinned. With effort, he turned his head and saw Xia Qing’s flawlessly delicate face, eyes shut, brows relaxed, his sleeping expression as picture-perfect as a K-drama heroine.

But why was Artemisia only smothering *him* and not Xia Qing? Indignant, Xu Zhangying tried to nudge the cat away with his head, but she just purred and settled back.

Finally, amid the silent battle for pillow territory, Xia Qing slowly opened his eyes to see the Elite Alpha’s face flushed red, locked in a struggle with Artemisia.

At last, Xia Qing released his hold on Xu Zhangying, sat up, and scooped Artemisia into his arms. Freed, Xu Zhangying gulped air, rolling around under the covers to stretch before noticing the sky outside the curtains had long since darkened.

"Xia Qing, what time is it?" Xu Zhangying’s voice was hoarse, startling even himself.

Xia Qing rubbed Artemisia’s belly, set her on the blanket, and reached for the water glass on the nightstand. The dim room was filled only with the cat’s meows and the ticking clock.

"5:30 p.m.," Xia Qing said, handing the glass to Xu Zhangying, still groggy and hair sticking up.

Xu Zhangying had just set the glass down when Artemisia leaped into his lap, pawing at it. But he caught her just in time, trying (and failing) to sound stern as he laughed, "What do you think you’re doing?"

Artemisia glanced at Xia Qing, then meowed sweetly at Xu Zhangying.

Xu Zhangying held the chatty little cat’s front paws, holding a one-sided meow-versus-man debate before finally smothering her in kisses, then got out of bed and left the room.

The lights in the living room and dining area were already on. Zhao Yang and Qi Feng, awake at some point, were heads-together at the table, whispering. They turned at the sound of Xu Zhangying’s footsteps.

Qi Feng, chewing on an American chocolate bar Zhao Yang had brought back, looked at Xu Zhangying and said, "Finally awake. Zhao Yang wanted me to wake you guys, but I said Artemisia could handle it."

Xu Zhangying, cradling the still-meowing cat, his hair a mess, grumbled, "I’d rather you woke me. She tried to murder me via cat belly—when did you two get up?"

"I woke up at noon. You three were dead to the world, and I was dying of boredom," Qi Feng said. After passing the police academy’s admission, she’d cut her hair short. At 1.88 meters, even a pink-striped tee couldn’t soften her edge. "I went out for bento and chips, then binged anime till now. Zhao Yang just woke up too. We’re figuring out dinner."

His stomach growled, reminding him he was starving. "Eating out or staying in?"

"Let’s eat here. We’ve been eating out all week," Zhao Yang said from the table, swiping on his new U.S.-bought iPad. He looked at Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing. "Hot pot tonight?"

"Sure, we can buy ingredients and make it ourselves," Xu Zhangying perked up, shifting Artemisia to one arm. He grinned at Zhao Yang and teased, "Glad to be back on home turf? Did Uncle Zhao call again?"

"He just asked if we got back safe," Zhao Yang admitted, scratching his nose sheepishly before changing the subject. "Dad also said AXin’s returning in two days. We should all go to Hong Kong then. Qi Feng didn’t get to come to the U.S. and’s been complaining."

"Fine by me," Xu Zhangying glanced back at Xia Qing, who was petting the little cat perched on his shoulder, then hesitated. "Is Hong Kong even cat-friendly?"

"If we're only going for two or three days, our cat can stay home alone for that long, right?" Qi Feng turned to look at the two of them.

"Yep, she'll be fine," Xia Qing held the little female cat's front paws and nodded. "When I went to the competition for four days last time, she stayed home alone. She was very well-behaved. We have an automatic feeder."

Xu Zhangying remembered the 2009 automatic feeder very clearly—it was something Ye Xin had specifically brought back from Japan. She had seen a Ragdoll cat at a client's house using this premium model and immediately noted the brand. Within a month, she bought one.

"Our child is also a foreign cat. The customs procedures took even longer than for pedigree cats," Ms. Ye had said at the time, watching Xia Qing set up the machine while hugging Artemisia, who was trying to get closer to see what was happening. She smiled and said, "Right, pretty girl?"

"Speaking of which, I just remembered," Zhao Yang looked at Xia Qing, who was about to take Artemisia from Xu Zhangying's arms, and asked in confusion, "After you two go to university in Beijing, and A-Xin is still busy with work, who will take care of the kitten?"

At this, Xu Zhangying smiled sheepishly and said quietly, "Since we're going to the same university, we plan to live off-campus. That way, we can take Artemisia with us."

"Whoa," Zhao Yang froze for a second, then gave Xu Zhangying an indescribable look before struggling to say, "Are you two getting married or something?"

"What marriage? What are you thinking?" Xu Zhangying, heading to the living room to grab cat treats, replied bewildered. "Isn't it just like high school life? We can't just leave Artemisia behind—Oh, the snacks are all gone. Xia Qing, do we have any more at home?"

"Seems like we don’t. I’ll buy some tomorrow," the beta male in coordinated home clothes said as he walked over, holding the large calico cat.

Standing in the dining room, Zhao Yang and Qi Feng watched the two boys seriously discussing what cat food to buy. After a few seconds of silence, Qi Feng slowly turned to Zhao Yang, looking shocked. "A Ying, has their life plans already gone off the rails? Their teen romance doesn’t seem like the usual kind."

"Thank God alphas and betas can’t have kids," Zhao Yang stared at their tall, upright figures with a complicated expression, his tone carrying a hint of relief and lingering fear. "Otherwise, forget about top schools—they’d be raising babies at home."

"What are you two talking about?" Xu Zhangying called out from the living room, looking at them from afar.

"Nothing," Qi Feng, caught gossiping, quickly shook her head and deflected. "We were just discussing what groceries to buy for tonight."

"Let’s split up. Xia Qing and I will go to the import supermarket for cat cans—they have better quality stuff, so we’ll grab everything there. You two can go to the nearby supermarket for vegetables and drinks." Xu Zhangying walked over, followed by the calico cat, meowing as it trotted behind.

"Sure," Qi Feng crouched to play with the kitten, then looked up. "Are you taking her with you?"

"No," Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing quickly changed into T-shirts and shorts. He tossed his keys in the air and looked down at the kitten seriously. "It’s scorching out. We’ll be back soon."

By 2010, Xu Zhangying had already developed the habit of wearing a mask on the subway. Peak hour was crowded, and he instinctively stood in the corner of the subway car, watching the flashing billboards outside.

Since the majority of people in the world were betas who couldn’t sense pheromones, whenever they mixed into the bustling public transport with tens of thousands of people, Xia Qing would hold Xu Zhangying’s hand to prevent him from getting overwhelmed by the chaotic pheromones and missing their stop.

Strangers would instinctively assume they were an AO couple, though it was hard to tell who the omega was—both were equally tall, with equally good-looking and confident presence, showing no signs of one being dependent on the other.

The train doors opened, and before onlookers could get a better look, the two were gone.

Xu Zhangying slung a Mario-themed backpack over one shoulder, one hand held by Xia Qing, the other quickly typing a shopping list on his phone. Without looking up, he followed the beta boy, navigating escalators and underground passages. Only when swiping out of the station did he finally put his phone away, mostly satisfied.

When he looked up again, they were already at the subway exit of a commercial pedestrian street. The sky had darkened completely, surrounded by bright, bustling shopping centers. The humid air hit them, making the idea of diving into a mall instantly appealing.

"The grocery store is this way," Xia Qing turned and gave Xu Zhangying’s hand a squeeze.

Still a bit dizzy from the pheromones, Xu Zhangying nodded quickly, then let go of Xia Qing’s hand and took off his mask.

"If only those collars we saw in New York could become mainstream," Xu Zhangying said with a grin after removing his mask.

The two walked side by side on the wide pedestrian street, chatting about the "high-tech product" they’d seen in New York—a pheromone-control device produced by an American pharmaceutical company. Alphas or omegas wearing it could better manage their pheromones, though the effect was limited and the cost exorbitant.

"Xia Qing, is the genetics field you chose related to this?"

"Mhm," Xia Qing stood under a bright billboard and turned to smile at Xu Zhangying. "I really hope to make progress in this area. It’d be great if one day you didn’t have to wear a mask."

Xia Qing’s face was always naturally poised, but when he smiled, it lit up warmly, often giving Xu Zhangying the illusion that if he were naturally cheerful, he’d be a completely different person.

"Such an awesome goal," Xu Zhangying immediately leaned in, hanging off Xia Qing with admiration. "Compared to you, I sound so basic—I just want to paint to make money and get famous."

"Xu Zhangying," Xia Qing looked at the Alpha Elite, took his hand again, and said earnestly, "It doesn’t change anything."

Xu Zhangying was about to spout some cheesy line with a grin when he suddenly noticed someone standing by the side entrance of the mall building not far to their right, seemingly waiting for a ride by the roadside.

Not hearing Xu Zhangying's words, Xia Qing turned his head and saw him staring in surprise at another direction. Following his gaze, the beta boy also froze instantly.

Because that person wasn't only known to Xu Zhangying—he knew her even better.

It was Lin Hanshan.

The woman was dressed in a white suit, standing quietly in the night like a beam of soft light, so stunningly beautiful that she seemed to stand apart from the world.

She must have been waiting for a car. Just as the thought crossed Xu Zhangying's mind, a black Maybach pulled up in front of Lin Hanshan. The driver stepped out to open the door for her, and she gracefully bent down to enter the car before the driver respectfully closed the door behind her.

Lin Hanshan had appeared suddenly last autumn, on the day the Mid-Autumn Festival fell during National Day break. Xu Zhangying hadn’t returned home for two months and, after much hesitation, flew back to Guangzhou.

Xia Qing had been waiting for him at the subway station closest to home. Upon seeing him, he rushed forward and hugged him tightly. Then, Xia Qing carried the luggage while Xu Zhangying shouldered his art supplies, chatting and laughing as they headed home.

However, when the door opened, Ye Xin, who had promised to take them out for a feast, was sitting calmly on the sofa, chatting lightly with the woman beside her.

That was the first time Xu Zhangying met Lin Hanshan. At first, he didn’t know who she was, only feeling that the omega before him was ethereally beautiful. Meanwhile, Xia Qing, standing beside him, calmly called out, "Mom."

Xu Zhangying was stunned but quickly accepted it—no wonder Xia Qing was so good-looking; his mother was truly breathtaking.

Lin Hanshan merely glanced at Xia Qing and smiled faintly. "You've grown taller."

But the next moment, the woman’s gaze landed on Xu Zhangying’s windblown appearance. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes before she turned to Ye Xin with a light laugh and said in Cantonese, "Ye Xin, is this your son?"

"Yes, his name is Xu Zhangying. He just returned from his art training, a mess after the trip," Ye Xin glanced at Xu Zhangying and added politely, "This is Xia Qing’s mother. Say hello to Aunt Lin."

Though confused, Xu Zhangying immediately bowed with his large backpack still on. "Aunt Lin."

"I didn’t know your son was an Alpha Elite. You never mentioned it before," Lin Hanshan’s clear, beautiful eyes lingered on Xu Zhangying’s face as she spoke to Ye Xin. "He’s quite handsome. You’re very fortunate, Ye Xin."

"You’re too kind. If he were half as good as A Qing, I’d be overjoyed," Ye Xin laughed heartily before looking at the two boys standing there awkwardly and said softly, "Xu Zhangying, A Qing, go inside and put your things away first. The adults need to talk."

Once inside, Xia Qing took Xu Zhangying’s bag off his shoulders. Xu Zhangying sat on a chair, shaking his legs nervously before realizing a sudden panic—Shit, is she here to take A Qing away?

Xu Zhangying immediately rushed to the door, pressing his ear against it to eavesdrop on Ye Xin’s conversation. But Xia Qing, standing behind him, whispered, "She wouldn’t. She’s not here to take me away."

Xu Zhangying didn’t fully grasp Xia Qing’s words, but that day proved him right. Lin Hanshan didn’t take Xia Qing with her. Xu Zhangying overheard her leaving a card with ¥300,000, though Ye Xin seemed to refuse it, leading to an argument filled with phrases like, "Ms. Lin, you’ve already helped me so much," and "A Qing is my child too."

After that, Xu Zhangying never saw Lin Hanshan again. That day, it was Ye Xin who took him and Xia Qing out for dinner. Lin Hanshan didn’t request another meeting or any private heart-to-heart.

So now, as the car carrying Lin Hanshan drove away from the intersection, Xia Qing just watched it go before turning back and leading Xu Zhangying into the mall.

Why, despite returning to a normal life, had she never considered taking her only child with her?

"Xia Qing, are you upset?" Xu Zhangying asked softly after some thought.

"No," Xia Qing shook his head, looking at the boy gently. "Being with you is what makes me happy."

Three days later, Ye Xin came back from abroad, but she remained too busy even to spare time for a meal with Xu Zhangying. Thus, their Hong Kong trip they’d planned had to be postponed.

Zhao Yang soon returned to his grandfather’s house, as both he and Qi Feng were just crashing there short-term. It was more convenient for them to live at their own homes.

Though the adults were busy, it had little to do with the underage children. After all, they hadn’t yet become breadwinners and didn’t need to worry about livelihoods.

During this time, Xu Zhangying and Xia Qing’s college acceptance letters arrived. Qi Feng even held a college acceptance party, and Xu Zhangying gave a congratulatory gift from Ye Xin to Qi Haoge.

In the hotel, Qi Feng became the center of discussion at the dinner table due to her height, gender, and major. She practically curled up between Xu Zhangying and Zhao Yang, while Xu Zhangying peeled shrimp for her and murmured, "Let's wait a bit longer, then we'll slip out."

Xia Qing nodded, but Zhao Yang remained glued to his phone without responding. It took Xu Zhangying a long time to get a single reply from him.

Soon, the four of them escaped from the banquet. It was already the height of summer, and with nowhere else to go, the kids once again retreated to Xu Zhangying's home—what felt like the safest place in the world.

With the air conditioning on, the four sat cross-legged on the carpet. Xu Zhangying and Qi Feng played *Resident Evil*, Xia Qing watched Xu Zhangying play, while Zhao Yang scrolled on his phone and watched the Evangelion movie.

Qi Feng's mother called her repeatedly, but she sent them all to voicemail. Before long, Xu Zhangying received a call from Qi Haoge. While fighting zombies, he called into the phone Xia Qing was holding for him, "Yes, Uncle," "Qi Feng is at my place," "My stomach was bothering me, so Qi Feng came with me."

The call ended quickly, leaving only the sounds of gunfire and screams from the game. Artemisia, already accustomed to the noise, lay on her back on Xu Zhangying’s bed, fast asleep.

"Zhao Yang."

At that moment, Xu Zhangying, eyes fixed on the screen without turning his head, asked:

"How long has it been since Uncle Zhao called you?"

Qi Feng paused her game, her delicate features flashing with confusion and surprise.

The room was filled only with the sounds of the anime and the game. After a long silence, Artemisia rolled over in her sleep.

"Four days."

Zhao Yang stared at his phone, expressionless.

That night, Qi Feng won the rock-paper-scissors game against Xu Zhangying, earning the right to sleep on the bed with Artemisia. Xia Qing slept on the left side of the bed, while Xu Zhangying and Zhao Yang slept together on the right side near the window.

Each of them had their own blanket and pillow. Xu Zhangying lay by the edge of the bed, propped on his arm as he turned to gaze at the night sky outside the window—a small, white moon peeking between the buildings.

The only sounds in the room were the hum of the air conditioner and Qi Feng and Artemisia's synchronized snores, already fast asleep. Xu Zhangying turned slightly again and saw the back of Zhao Yang’s head, still as stone.

But there was no sound of deep breathing.

Xu Zhangying didn’t say anything. He just turned over and pressed his back against his friend’s back.

"Tomorrow, I’m going to wait for him at our home in Shenzhen."

In the stillness of the night, Zhao Yang said through clenched teeth.

Children have no worries, but they are also the most powerless—utterly incapable of becoming adults’ sources of support.

On that summer night in 2010, Xu Zhangying, Zhao Yang, and Xia Qing all came to understand this truth with brutal clarity.

-

At 3 a.m., Zhao Yang heard the quiet rhythm of breathing behind him. He turned gently and saw the Elite Alpha’s exhausted sleeping face in the dark, triggering memories of the first time he’d interacted with Xu Zhangying.

It had been a very unpleasant beginning.

Zhao Yang’s grandfather was a literature professor at a university in Guangzhou, and his grandmother was a middle school English teacher—the picture of academic pedigree. They had two daughters, an omega and a beta, and Zhao Yang’s mother, Yi Chu, was the elder omega daughter.

When Zhao Xiuyi and Yi Chu first married, their finances were tight—both parents were ordinary working-class. Zhao Xiuyi had been selected as a student by Zhao Yang’s grandfather, who later funded his master’s and doctoral studies abroad. After marriage, their life was happy and peaceful. By the time Zhao Yang was born, Zhao Xiuyi had already earned his first fortune, and his business was growing rapidly.

Zhao Yang had few distinct memories of his childhood because it was a time of overwhelming happiness. Though his father hadn’t yet become a billionaire entrepreneur, their family had long surpassed the average middle class. His father was capable, his mother gentle, and the faces around him were always smiling and kind.

But at eight years old, due to his grandmother’s family medical history, Yi Chu—who suffered from severe thalassemia—developed complications from long-term blood transfusions. From then on, Zhao Yang gradually noticed that life had taken on a different hue.

His mother was always bedridden. He wanted to ask why, but his aunts and other elders never gave him a straight answer. His father was rarely around, so he began living permanently at his grandfather’s house, listening to relatives come and go, discussing Yi Chu’s condition and Zhao Xiuyi’s flourishing career.

By the spring of his ninth year, Yi Chu’s complications had worsened, and ordinary treatments were no longer effective. The elders gathered again to discuss matters he didn’t understand. His aunts and others started asking him strange questions like whether he wanted his mother to get better. Each time, Zhao Yang answered earnestly and loudly that of course he did—but the reactions he got were never what he expected. The elders would just stare at his face, then suddenly put on strained smiles, exchanging glances as if sharing some hidden secret.

Then one day, Zhao Xiuyi, who had been working abroad, suddenly returned. He found Zhao Yang alone in his room watching cartoons, avoiding everyone else, and sat the boy on his lap. He leaned down and asked, "Xiao Yang, are you afraid of pain?"

Zhao Yang was tired of these vague questions. Fidgeting with the cartoon cards in his hands, he muttered after a long pause, "I'm not afraid."

Zhao Xiuyi hugged Zhao Yang tightly and whispered, "What if the doctor needs to use a needle to hurt you so we can treat Mom? Would you be willing?"

Finally piecing together what had been hidden from him, Zhao Yang immediately put down the cards and turned to Zhao Xiuyi anxiously, saying, "I am!"

Zhao Xiuyi then held Zhao Yang's hand and began explaining what a bone marrow transplant was, asking him again and again. Each time, Zhao Yang firmly declared that he wasn’t afraid of pain or any side effects—he was totally, completely willing to save his mother.

Thus, before his tenth birthday and before he underwent differentiation, Zhao Xiuyi agreed to the family’s proposal for Zhao Yang to provide hematopoietic stem cells for his mother.

Doctors are extremely cautious about minors donating living organs, especially children whose cases are often unique. Those too young may not meet weight and physical health requirements, while older children risk suddenly developing secondary sex characteristics.

The latter refers to children within two years of differentiation, whose hormones are all over the place and physical conditions too unpredictable to meet donation standards. Doctors cannot guarantee their health and safety after marrow donation.

During that period, with less than half a year until his tenth birthday, Zhao Yang could feel the tension in his family.

The only cure was a bone marrow transplant, but patients often have strong immune rejection responses, so she needed chemo first to weaken her immune system.

This meant Zhao Yang had become the only hope for saving his mother.

After Yi Chu began chemotherapy, Zhao Yang ate his grandma’s special tonics to gain weight while praying every day in his heart not to differentiate during those two months.

Adults often grow more anxious and flustered than children in critical situations. During that time, Zhao Yang repeatedly heard his aunt and uncles say at the dinner table with strained smiles, "It’d be great if Xiao Yang were a beta," or "Once Yi Chu recovers, having an alpha brother for Xiao Yang wouldn’t be bad."

As if joking about it could make them feel better and make their wishes come true.

Each time he heard such remarks, Zhao Yang silently thought—he also wished to be a beta. As long as it could save his mother, it didn’t matter. No one forced him; he simply didn’t want to be an alpha.

The chemo was agony. Zhao Yang longed to see his mother, but she was in the hospital, and he couldn’t go alone. Stuck at home, he had to burn incense every day to devoutly place in the burner, praying to deities like Guanyin for his mother’s recovery.

"Please let me be a beta," Zhao Yang pleaded in his heart every time.

After begging nonstop, with just half a month left before the transplant, his family finally agreed to let him visit his mother in the hospital. Excited, Zhao Yang tossed and turned all night, leaving him listless the next day.

"Yangyang didn’t sleep well, did he? He’s eating so little," his grandfather noticed at breakfast, concerned about his grandson’s exhaustion.

His grandmother felt Zhao Yang’s forehead. "No fever, but maybe he caught a chill."

"Maybe we should cancel," she said to his aunt while holding Zhao Yang. "Hospitals are bad luck for kids. Better not let him go."

"I want to go! I’m fine!" Zhao Yang nearly jumped in frustration.

His grandmother glanced at his anxious face and chuckled, smoothing his clothes before telling his aunt, "Take him with Xingwen and bring him back early. Let him talk to your sister briefly, but don’t tire her."

From the adults’ words, Zhao Yang guessed his mother’s condition had worsened. He sat silently in the car to the hospital while his aunt and uncle tried to keep the conversation light.

"Xiao Yang, your mother had a very difficult time giving birth to you. Her blood pressure was so high she couldn’t even get out of bed. You must take good care of her later."

"You’re a good boy. You only have one mother in this life—once she’s gone, there’s no other. Your dad’s so busy with work; you need your mom to look after you…"

Midway, the adults in the front seats finally noticed something wrong. His aunt turned and saw the child pale and gasping for breath in the backseat.

Zhao Yang only remembered a bizarre dream that day—drowning in an endless sea, rising and falling with no one to pull him out, saltwater choking his nose and lungs.

When he woke, he was back in his room, lights off. Climbing out of bed, he peeked through the curtains to find the sky pitch black outside.

How strange—wasn’t he supposed to be on his way to see his mother?

With these thoughts in mind, Zhao Yang raised his hand and turned the doorknob, only to find the entire villa eerily silent. The adults were nowhere to be seen. Clad in slippers, he wandered through the house searching for someone, but for some reason, he noticed an unfamiliar scent lingering in the air.

Soon, he spotted a light on the first floor and descended the stairs. In the stillness, he turned around and was met with a dozen pairs of eyes staring back at him.

Zhao Yang was startled. He froze, staring blankly at the sudden gathering of relatives and elders in the living room, all seated or standing, their gazes fixed on him now that he was awake.

“Hah.” Someone chuckled—likely his uncle.

“This kid’s got good luck, huh? Presenting as an alpha ahead of time, without any regard for his mother’s condition.”

At these words, Zhao Yang's face paled instantly. His eyes widened in panic as he turned to his grandmother, who sat on the sofa wiping her tears. “Grandma… did I really become an alpha?”

The grandmother, who had always doted on him, remained silent.

“Well, isn’t this perfect? Zhao Xiuyi’s racking up fortunes abroad, and now he’s got an alpha son. I bet as soon as his wife passes, he’ll remarry. Second Uncle's investment was all for nothing—what a loss!”

“Little Yang, you must be thrilled to be an alpha, but have you thought about what’ll happen to your mom now…?”

Cruel, crystal-clear words that cut like knives echoed in nine-year-old Zhao Yang’s ears. The adults, in their need to vent their resentment, pain, and jealousy, pretended to forget that the child before them understood every single word they said.

Zhao Yang clenched his fists. He wanted to scream that he never wanted to be an alpha, that he wasn’t happy about presenting as one—but the words wouldn’t come. Even he knew how hollow and hypocritical they’d sound.

Worse, he was gripped by a deep, paralyzing fear—the fear that his mother would die because he had presented as an alpha.

“Enough! Shut your mouths!” Zhao Yang’s grandfather suddenly roared in fury, cursing the relatives in Cantonese. “What nonsense are you spouting in front of a child?”

Then, he motioned for the bewildered Zhao Yang to come closer. “Come here, Little Yang. Don’t be afraid. You still have your grandparents.”

After that, Zhao Yang’s life returned to an uneasy quiet. Once his mother passed, all other relatives gradually disappeared from his life except his grandparents and Zhao Xiuyi.

Most of the time, he lived with his grandparents. Rare visits took him to Shenzhen with Zhao Xiuyi.

Perhaps influenced by those cruel words, Zhao Yang spent years terrified that Zhao Xiuyi would suddenly remarry. But by the time he entered middle school, his father still showed no signs of a new relationship. His treatment of the elderly couple remained unchanged, and Zhao Yang gradually let go of his fears.

It was during this time that he met Xu Zhangying and Qi Feng.

At the start of middle school, Zhao Yang was briefly taken to Shenzhen for over a month. But with Zhao Xiuyi unable to balance work and childcare, his grandfather insisted he return to Guangzhou’s No. 1 Middle School.

By then, nearly two months of the semester had passed. Cliques had already formed in the class and grade. Zhao Xiuyi’s business had grown significantly, so for days, Zhao Yang found himself under scrutiny from all directions.

And Zhao Yang, at the time, was in the most contrary phase of his life—he saw everyone as morons. The rich kids inviting him into their clique? Morons. The alphas trying to cozy up to him? Even bigger morons.

The two he despised the most were the so-called Elite Alphas who were constantly in his face. One was a year above him, so at least he didn’t have to see him often. But the other—Xu Zhangying—was in his own class, inescapable.

Xu Zhangying was everything Zhao Yang found insufferable. Just because he was an Elite Alpha, he acted arrogant and smug, as if the whole world revolved around him. And the female alpha who sat in front of him? Even worse—she wouldn’t shut up about “Xu Zhangying.” It drove him up the wall.

One day after school, Zhao Yang and the female alpha were on clean-up duty together. As they were finishing up, Zhao Yang passed by her with a mop and overheard her loudly raving about Xu Zhangying with other girls.

“Qi Feng, was Xu Zhangying called to rehearse for the sports day oath ceremony?”

“Yeah! He was always the announcer at our old school. And Zhangying’s amazing—he even competed in the city’s 400-meter relay. We took second place together!”

Zhao Yang couldn’t take it anymore. He scoffed. “As if. Yeah, right.”

“What did you say?!” The female alpha’s ears were sharp. She spun on him, glaring.

Zhao Yang turned in the hallway, tilting his head back defiantly to meet her wide, angry eyes. “I said, ‘As if. Yeah, right.’ You keep gushing over Xu Zhangying nonstop just because he’s a damn Elite Alpha. Don’t you find that embarrassing?”

“I wasn’t gushing! Everything I said is true!” The female alpha stepped forward, looming over him, putting him instinctively on edge.

"Fine, everything you said is true," Zhao Yang retorted sarcastically, his irritation flaring as he looked at the cute but fiercely defensive girl standing up for Xu Zhangying. Unable to hold back, he blurted out, "You're a big, tall alpha, yet you're obsessing over an Elite Alpha like some little girl. Doesn’t that seem ridiculous to you?"

Zhao Yang braced himself for a verbal lashing or even a punch, but a second passed, and nothing happened. He looked up, only to find the tall alpha girl clutching a broom, staring at him in shock—then suddenly bursting into tears.

Zhao Yang froze.

Why was she crying? A girl her size crying over such a harmless remark was ridiculous. He was about to snap, while the surrounding students began chattering, "Zhao Yang made Qi Feng cry!" "Should we get a teacher?"

Before Zhao Yang could react, someone suddenly shoved him hard from the side.

"Who do you think you are, picking on a girl? You’re awful! Apologize!" The instigator of all this—Elite Alpha Xu Zhangying—stood there, glaring furiously at Zhao Yang.

At the time, the 170 cm Xu Zhangying faced the 183 cm Qi Feng, who stood there sobbing, her face streaked with tears. The girls around her, all a head shorter, frantically handed her tissues.

Zhao Yang, slammed against the wall, scraping his elbow, and snarled, "When did I bully her? I didn’t even touch her!" Blind with rage, he swung at Xu Zhangying, landing a punch on his shoulder.

"I heard you! You said she wasn’t a girl—how dare you say that about Qi Feng?" Xu Zhangying, equally enraged, immediately threw punches back at Zhao Yang.

"I never said she wasn’t a girl! I just said it’s weird for a tall alpha like her to act like a little girl!" Zhao Yang, roughly the same height as Xu Zhangying, held his own but still managed to yell in defense.

"Why isn’t Qi Feng a little girl?!" Xu Zhangying roared, punching Zhao Yang in the chest.

Zhao Yang was stunned, forgetting to block the hit. As the pain registered, he glanced at the teary-eyed female alpha, then snapped, "She’s a whole head taller than you!"

"Height doesn’t fucking matter!" Xu Zhangying kicked Zhao Yang’s shin hard. "She’s the same age as Miao Xinyi—why isn’t she a little girl?"

Miao Xinyi, the omega girl beside Qi Feng, was around 155 cm—exactly the "little girl" Zhao Yang had referred to.

Zhao Yang, grabbing Xu Zhangying by the collar, struggled to retort when suddenly, Xu Zhangying’s dark eyes burned with fury as he snarled:

"You think anyone *chooses* to be an alpha?"

"Being an alpha or a beta isn’t a choice! How dare you mock someone for that?"

For a moment, Zhao Yang’s eyes widened. Xu Zhangying’s words struck him like a hammer, making him falter. His grip on Xu Zhangying’s collar tightened, but his aching leg buckled, and he stumbled backward—only to miss the step.

Later, Xu Zhangying would replay the fight in his head. From his perspective, it happened like this: the normally combative rich kid suddenly had red-rimmed eyes, then yanked him forward with unexpected force—and the two tumbled down the stairs together.

In the end, Xu Zhangying cracked his head open, Zhao Yang broke his leg, and the onlookers screamed before sprinting off to fetch their homeroom teacher and the principal.

Xu Zhangying, clutching his bleeding head, gaped in disbelief as Zhao Yang—who had been cursing him moments ago—burst into loud sobs. The pain in his skull made him want to cry too, but they were both stuck, piled on the stairs.

That day, Xu Zhangying was helped downstairs by their teacher, while Qi Feng carried Zhao Yang down. In the ER, they were greeted by a panicked Ye Xin and Zhao Xiuyi.

And so, their story began.

On a summer night in 2010, Zhao Yang gazed at Xu Zhangying asleep in the dark for a long time before finally, quietly, whispering a prayer in his heart—sincerely hoping, this time, it would come true.

But fate had already been sealed.

So, once again, Zhao Yang’s prayer went unanswered.