On Tuesday evening, Chu Tao was browsing on Taobao, trying to find a birthday gift for Jiang She.

He didn’t know what would be appropriate. The only money he had available right now was about one thousand yuan.

Over the years, most of the pocket money he received during New Year’s and his part-time earnings during the holidays had been invested by Song Mian in a fund. She said it was an investment made with her and his parents’ money, and when they took it out, they would get back the full amount along with the interest.

However, the fund market hadn’t been doing well in the past two years, and Song Mian wasn’t very lucky either. There had been some fluctuations, but no big gains. She was reluctant to withdraw it, so the money had been stuck there.

Chu Tao aimlessly searched for keywords, but the gifts displayed on the app were too ordinary, too boring, and didn’t catch his eye.

The truly expensive luxury brand clothes or gaming setups were beyond his budget.

Only when you truly care about someone are you willing to spend effort on them. For this reason, Chu Tao hadn’t even had time to organize his error correction notebook.

Just then, the computer made a sound. A pop-up box appeared in the lower right corner, notifying him of an email from a special contact.

This email address was a bit tricky. Sometimes, it would inexplicably push notifications for people he had marked as “special contacts,” but in reality, they were just advertisements trying to sell something.

However, he had gotten used to it, so he hadn’t bothered switching to a different email.

Chu Tao stared at the email for two seconds, lightly tapping his index finger on the mouse. His fingernail hit the plastic cover with a crisp sound.

He felt inexplicably nervous and then quickly opened his inbox. There was an unopened email sitting in the inbox.

The sender was the old professor.

Chu Tao pursed his lips and took a deep breath. Actually, ever since he sent the email last time, he had almost forgotten about it.

The old professor’s response was slow, but Chu Tao didn’t really need a reply.

He had simply noticed a phenomenon and offered the professor a new research idea. Whether the professor would accept it or whether he had already conducted research and found it unsubstantiated, Chu Tao had no way of knowing.

Although he was eager to share, he didn’t necessarily need to know the results of the professor’s research.

Besides, he was happy with how things were with Jiang She. Even though he didn’t understand much about the mind glands, it didn’t affect his feelings for Jiang She.

However, he didn’t plan on telling Jiang She about it yet.

He didn’t want to pressure Jiang She or make him question whether his feelings were influenced by the mind glands.

Neither of those outcomes was something he wanted to see. With the college entrance exams approaching, they had to focus all their energy on studying.

Once they were in college, there would be plenty of time to talk about everything.

When he opened the email, the first line of text was a bit striking.

“Sorry, Chu Tao.”

Chu Tao’s upper body tensed involuntarily because he couldn’t think of any reason significant enough for the old professor to apologize to him.

Moreover, the words “I’m sorry” felt overly heavy. Perhaps a lighter “I apologize” would have made him feel less burdened.

He immediately continued reading.

“Because a lot has happened recently, I couldn’t respond to your email promptly. I believe your discovery is valuable, but for the next month or so, I won’t have time to conduct research in this area.”

“The mind gland was only discovered by biologists in the past decade, and the data we have is limited. Due to the general lack of public awareness, many individual cases have been overlooked. Most people believe that it’s impossible for an alpha to be with another alpha; otherwise, they’ll inevitably break up due to pheromone repulsion. Fortunately, the discovery of the mind gland over the past ten years has refuted this notion, encouraging more people to acknowledge the genetic significance of AA relationships.”

“But I still have to tell you that, as someone with a mind gland, you must understand that its existence dictates certain inevitabilities in your behavior. For your partner, however, this is merely a coincidence. If you achieve physical and emotional unity and become interdependent, your pheromones will merge with theirs to maintain harmony and peace, but the same does not apply to them.”

“If one day you part ways, you’ll need months of withdrawal, a process as painful as detoxification. Meanwhile, your partner could quickly move on with an omega whose pheromones match better, unaffected. In other words, the greater the pleasure the mind gland brings you, the greater the price you’ll pay. It’s not a very cost-effective thing.”

“Because of my personal experience, I may have been emotionally biased when advising you, inadvertently encouraging you and leading you into this high-risk gamble. For this, I am deeply sorry. The world is too unpredictable, and no one can guarantee staying together forever. The only thing you can do is protect yourself.”

The professor then went on to discuss lighter topics, encouraging Chu Tao to consider applying for a related field of study to pursue research. However, the tone of the email carried an overwhelming sense of rational sorrow.

It was a long letter, and Chu Tao read it word for word without missing anything.

Attached to the email, the professor had written a recommendation letter, which would be helpful for Chu Tao’s applications for studying abroad and choosing a major in college.

Chu Tao, being a sensitive and introspective person, leaned back in his chair and sat silently for a moment. He had a general idea of what might have happened.

During the professor’s lecture at school, his relationship with his alpha partner had seemed stable. Now, it appeared they had separated, and the professor was enduring the painful withdrawal symptoms.

Happiness rarely drives progress. Pain, sadness, dissatisfaction, and anger—negative emotions drive people to learn, reflect, and grow stronger and more grounded.

When people look back on events, weighing gains and losses, they arrive at conclusions.

Perhaps the decreasing number of people born with mind glands over the years is a result of human evolution.

Because it isn’t cost-effective, this gene may be gradually disappearing under the natural selection of seeking advantages and avoiding harm.

Chu Tao downloaded the recommendation letter and saved it on his hard drive before closing his computer.

He no longer had the mood to continue looking for a birthday gift or working on his error correction notebook. He felt a pang of sadness for the professor.

He took a shower, blow-dried his hair, and curled up under the covers, going to bed early.

The next day, he got up early enough. During breakfast, Song Mian and Chu Jiangmin started talking about that old classmate again.

“Xiao Yu is doing well; he’s smoothly transitioned to management. In a couple of years, when he retires, things will be even easier, and he’s made plenty of money too,” said Chu Jiangmin.

As programmers, they couldn’t write code their whole lives—young graduates had fresher minds and more creativity.

The only way to avoid a midlife crisis was to transition into management, leaving behind the days of endless overtime.

But successfully making that transition was extremely rare, which was why Chu Jiangmin envied his old classmate.

Song Mian tore off a piece of bread and muttered, “Of course he’s made plenty of money. Otherwise, how could he afford to send his kid abroad for college? Four years with no scholarships—that’s millions.”

Chu Jiangmin took a sip of soy milk and said, “It’s actually kind of a waste. After studying abroad for six years and spending all that money, he still came back to find a job. Who knows if he can even earn it back.”

With the dinner on Friday approaching, Song Mian wanted to know more and couldn’t help but ask, “What did their kid study?”

Chu Jiangmin thought for a moment and said, “Chemistry, I think. Something to do with synthetic materials.”

Song Mian was surprised. “Why chemistry? Why didn’t he follow in his dad’s footsteps and study computer science?”

Chu Jiangmin gave her a side glance and said, “I wouldn’t want Xing Ning or Tao Tao to study computer science either. You lose your competitive edge as you age, and it’s exhausting.”

Song Mian asked, “Which company is he interviewing with?”

Chu Jiangmin chuckled, “Which else? The largest pharmaceutical company in Huai City—Jiang’s Pharmaceuticals.”

Chu Tao, caught off guard, drank his soy milk too quickly and coughed twice, his face flushing bright red.

Song Mian, Chu Jiangmin, and Chu Xingning all turned to look at him. Chu Tao, feeling guilty, lowered his head, took a big bite of bread, and stuffed his cheeks full.

Song Mian shifted her gaze back and said, “Jiang’s, huh? Tao Tao and Jiang Qifeng’s son were classmates, weren’t they?”

Without even lifting his eyes, Chu Jiangmin muttered, “So what if they were? I have classmates who became mayors.”

Song Mian nudged him, “The more friends you have, the more paths you open. Anyway, since Chu Tao gets along well with him, they should stay in touch and help each other in the future.”

Chu Jiangmin smirked, “Help each other? Back in high school, Tao Tao could help him with studying, but after graduation, he’ll inherit the family business right away. What kind of help could he possibly need from Tao Tao? In society, no one cares about academic performance. And you were the one complaining he wasn’t serious enough about his studies.”

Song Mian mumbled, “What does my complaining do? It’s not like I could stop Tao Tao from being friends with him. Besides, he helped Tao Tao with chemistry, and I’m grateful for that. High school friendships aren’t so calculated. It’s not like he needs anything from Tao Tao.”

The more Chu Tao listened, the more uncomfortable he felt. Bowing his head, he quickly stuffed the rest of his red bean bun into his mouth. With his cheeks puffed out, he drank the remaining soy milk in one gulp, grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth, and said, “I’m done eating.”

He pushed back his chair, got up, and went to his room to pack his school bag.

Chu Xingning raised an eyebrow and glanced at Chu Tao’s retreating back, murmuring, “It’s not necessarily true that he doesn’t want anything.”

Song Mian turned her head and asked, “Xingning, what did you say?”

Chu Xingning shook his head.

In truth, he had always known that their parents didn’t pay enough attention to Chu Tao.

As a child, he didn’t understand. Later, he felt powerless, letting things continue as they were.

Because of this, he consciously kept an eye on Chu Tao’s needs, trying to share what their parents gave him with his brother.

His understanding of Chu Tao was even more detailed than Song Mian or Chu Jiangmin’s.

About a month ago, Chu Xingning had clearly sensed something unusual about Chu Tao’s pheromones.

As an Omega, he was sensitive to the scent of another Alpha. He had long suspected that Chu Tao’s partner was an Alpha.

After breakfast, Chu Tao and Chu Xingning biked to school. Chu Tao said, “On Friday, I’ll have to trouble you to handle the socializing. I don’t like that kind of thing anyway.”

Sweetly calling people “Uncle” and “Auntie,” raising a glass for toasts, saying flowery blessings, and playing with unfamiliar peers—it was all too much for Chu Tao to bear.

Just imagining the scene made his brain feel numb.

But Chu Xingning was always good at adapting to such situations, which was why Song Mian and Chu Jiangmin always thought he was the more obedient and sensible child.

Chu Xingning couldn’t help asking, “Are you really inviting the teacher for dinner on Friday?”

Chu Tao hesitated for a moment and decided not to lie to his brother. “Actually, it’s a classmate’s birthday.”

Chu Xingning thought for a moment, then teased, “This classmate must be very important to you, huh? Even the ‘good boy’ who never lies is willing to deceive his parents for him.”

Chu Tao nodded earnestly, responding slowly, “He is very important. The kind of important where cost-effectiveness doesn’t matter.”

No matter what price he had to pay, he still wanted to be with him.

—

Author’s note:
Tao Tao loves She Ge even more than he realizes.

Thank you to the lovely readers who supported me with votes or nutrients between 2020-05-19 20:22:14 and 2020-05-20 20:54:13!
Special thanks to the angels who donated nutrients:
– Luo Xiaosui (10 bottles)
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Thank you all so much for your support. I’ll keep working hard!