Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Yang Bai was a student in the Gland Research Program at Qinghai Medical University. The campus, located in the coastal suburbs, covered over 5,000 acres. In addition to its world-class gland research laboratories and other top-tier facilities, the university boasted its own private beach, forming a scenic attraction that drew many tourists each year.

Too excited to sleep, Yang Bai hauled Shen Hui and his father to the school gate at six in the morning. Familiar with the campus, he swiped his student card to rent a golf cart, hopped into the driver’s seat, and took Shen Hui and his dad on a tour of Qinghai University, with the route all planned out.

Compared to his wired, buzzing state of mind, Shen Hui and Mr. Yang’s souls were still half-asleep, their eyes dazed and hair disheveled.

Mr. Yang had never opened his shop before 10 a.m.—he simply couldn’t wake up that early.

Shen Hui, however, was in poor health. When he was first rescued, he often suffered from high fevers and convulsions at night, several times nearly ending up in the ICU. Though both Mr. Yang and his son thought he wouldn’t make it, he pulled through stubbornly and now appeared almost no different from a healthy person.

They only started to wake up a bit after Yang Bai dragged them into the cafeteria.

Yang Bai placed a steaming bowl of wontons in front of Shen Hui. "Bro, try this—it’s the best wonton on campus. I specially picked the mushroom filling you like."

The wontons had thin wrappers and fresh fillings, with visible bits of mushroom inside. The broth was clear and light, and the vendor had added their signature pickled side dishes.

Shen Hui took a bite. The mushrooms were rich but not greasy, and the tender minced pork was sweet and savory, soothing both his tongue and stomach. He narrowed his eyes slightly, revealing a cat-like expression of contentment.

Seeing this, Yang Bai proudly thumped his chest. "See? I knew you’d like it."

"It’s really good," Shen Hui nodded, eating in small, slow bites.

His table manners were elegant and refined—il finished chewing and swallowing each bite completely before taking the next, making almost no sound.

Yang Bai’s gaze was unconsciously drawn to him, reminding him of how Shen Hui had looked when they first met: feverish, infected, with a deteriorating gland, so fragile he seemed on the verge of shattering.

Based on his limited medical knowledge, Yang Bai had thought this person belonged in the morgue. Yet Shen Hui had stubbornly clung to life, transforming into the gentle, mysterious, and aloof figure he was now.

Like an enchanting yet dangerous siren hidden in the mist, tempting others to delve deeper. Yang Bai’s eyes drifted to Shen Hui’s slender, pale, and well-defined fingers.

Suddenly feeling a bit uneasy, Yang Bai awkwardly adjusted his posture, his guilty yet eager expression finally grating on Shen Hui's nerves.

Shen Hui tapped the table in front of Yang Bai with his index finger. "Are you full?"

The tap seemed to hit a raw nerve, making Yang Bai jump as if he'd been shocked, his knee slamming hard against the stainless-steel table.

"Ouch!" Yang Bai cried out, clutching his knee. The sudden movement overturned the rice noodle roll in front of him, ruining his carefully chosen shirt and trousers.

"Crap!!!" Yang Bai forgot about his knee, frantically pulling out tissues to wipe the table and then his clothes, only making the white shirt look worse.

Shen Hui: …

Did I push his buttons?

Mr. Yang immediately stood up to help. "Why are you so clumsy? Is your brother going to eat you?"

Yang Bai’s budding crush was utterly shattered, and he let out a pathetic wail. "I bought this specifically for my speech! What do I do now?"

Shen Hui sighed helplessly. "It’s too late to buy a new one now. Do you have any classmates in the dorm? See if you can borrow a set for emergencies. I’ll order a new outfit on a delivery app and have it sent to your dorm. If that doesn’t work, we’ll wait for a courier."

"Okay!" The reliable Yang Bai almost knelt down to call him "Dad," but swallowed the words upon seeing his actual father. He took off like a bat out of hell.

Shen Hui picked out a similar set online, paid for express delivery with a tip, and confirmed the timing was feasible before slowly heading to the auditorium with Mr. Yang.

He was actually quite familiar with Qinghai University—after all, Yan Jiu had also graduated from here. Walking again on the coastal path gave him a surreal sense of déjà vu, mixed with the absurd feeling of having played the role of an old father twice.

"I really have to thank you for these past few years," Mr. Yang mused with sudden emotion. Back then, he had picked Shen Hui up purely out of pity, not wanting to see a life lost. He never expected Shen Hui to be such a treasure—skilled and knowledgeable in everything, even taming his rebellious son. It was like having a "Snail Maiden" from the legends helping out.

"If you hadn’t saved me back then, I would have died long ago. It’s me who should thank you," Shen Hui replied. The sea breeze brushed through the strands of hair at his temples, and the sparkle of broken waves reflected in his eyes.

He spoke of his pathetic past, yet his gaze was calmer than the sea, as if even the sunlight around him had softened.

Many students were heading to the auditorium, their eyes inevitably drawn to Shen Hui. They seemed eager to approach but hesitant, as if an invisible barrier surrounded him, keeping them at a distance.

Seeing this, Mr. Yang swallowed the rest of his words and sighed inwardly. His foolish son would probably only ever be a younger brother in Shen Hui’s eyes.

When they reached the auditorium, Shen Hui chose a seat not too close but with a clear view of the stage. He took a bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to Mr. Yang, then opened WeChat to browse through his messages.

In a hardware suppliers’ group, clearance sales were being posted. In the Chengping Hardware Repair (AAA) group, someone asked when he could come to check an electronic lock. Shen Hui replied that he had the day off and couldn't come until evening at the earliest.

When there was no response, Shen Hui continued scrolling. Over the past three years, he had joined many groups, mostly consisting of people from the urban village—second-hand trading, fruit shop group buys, Meituan flash sales, etc. In his notifications, there was an invitation from Yang Bai. He clicked on it and found it was a short drama sharing group.

Shen Hui silently declined the invitation, found Gu Yu’s profile picture, and tapped into their chat.

"Are you free to meet? I think there might be some issues with my gland lately."

The other party instantly showed "typing…"

"What’s wrong?"

"It was feverish last night, and a bit itchy." Shen Hui phrased it politely, but in reality, his fever had spiked to 39 degrees Celsius. Antipyretics hadn’t helped much, and later, an itch started from his gland—not a skin-level sensation, but deeper, as if emanating from his blood vessels and bones.

"…Meet at the usual place tomorrow. Don’t take any random medication."

Shen Hui sent an "OK" emoji, and the other party replied with a sticker of a doctor entering an operating room holding a chainsaw.

He had contacted Gu Yu two years ago. His gland hadn’t completely deteriorated as he’d expected, nor had it fully developed into an omega’s. Instead, it seemed stuck at a bottleneck, barely keeping him alive.

When Gu Yu saw it, his eyes lit up with the gleam of someone looking at a paper for a top-tier journal. Unfortunately, after two years of study, he had made no progress, frustrating Director Gu so much that he often made snide, passive-aggressive remarks.

Shen Hui focused on his phone, only looking up when he realized the seats around him were almost full, while the rest of the auditorium remained sparsely occupied. Frowning slightly, he thought there might be some unexpected situation, but the girl next to him provided the answer.

"Hey, handsome, can I borrow a bottle of water?" The girl was clearly a major extrovert. Without hesitation, she took the water Shen Hui offered, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip. "Thanks! Which department are you in? I’ll pay you back later."

Shen Hui shook his head. "No need."

But the girl was very outgoing, someone who actively created stories. "You look young—still in school, right? Are you here to see Senior Yan too?"

Shen Hui had a severe psychological allergy to the surname "Yan" and frowned slightly. "Senior Yan?"

"Yan Jiu, the chairman of Yan’s Group and honorary vice-president of Qinghai University. He donated the Suihui Building on campus—which, hey, has the same 'Hui' as your name. A young, rich, top-tier alpha—every time he visits the school, the events are packed." The girl clearly kept up with campus gossip. "I heard they’ve deepened cooperation this year and will select some outstanding graduates to intern directly at Yan’s Group’s Gland Research Institute."

Shen Hui immediately had a bad feeling. The moment he turned his head, the VIP entrance at the side of the auditorium opened, and he unexpectedly saw Yan Jiu surrounded by university board members.

Three years had made the alpha more poised and resilient, with an authoritative presence in his every move. Even his once aggressive features had become more restrained.

The mix of familiarity and strangeness left Shen Hui momentarily dazed.

As if sensing something, Yan Jiu instinctively glanced toward the most crowded section of the stands. Shen Hui subconsciously shrank back.

It was purely a subconscious urge—Yan Jiu scanned the area but found nothing unusual.

"Is something wrong?" the principal asked, noticing his pause.

"It’s nothing." Yan Jiu withdrew his gaze and headed toward the lounge, then added with rare uncertainty, "Is the air conditioning in the venue broken?"

"Huh? No, we don't." The principal and the others looked utterly confused.

Yan Gui: "Don't you feel how damp it is?"

"Huh?" The principal and the others grew even more bewildered. Was there ever a day in Qinghai that wasn't humid? Since summer began, the humidity had been at 100%, and dehumidifier sales could probably account for half our GDP.

Yan Gui said nothing more. Upon entering the auditorium, he distinctly sensed an unusual dampness—like the chill of melting snow on a mountain, faint yet cold, with a hint of a sweet, coppery scent.

It was elusive, making him restless.

Shen Hui didn't relax until Yan Gui's figure disappeared into the lounge, his tense shoulders easing only after a long while. He rubbed his temples with a headache.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Yang asked immediately, noticing his discomfort. The girl beside them, hearing the commotion, stopped looking at the upperclassman and quickly leaned in, offering Shen Hui a mint. "Feeling stuffy? Here, try a mint."

Shen Hui hesitated for a moment before accepting the candy, but just held it in his palm without eating it. "Thank you."

He felt a wave of heat, a burning sensation that made his heart feel numb, as if licked by a flame.

He clenched the mint tightly, the damp heat of his palm swallowing the mint's coolness.

Author's Note:

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