The exam ended that day, and Chu Xingning organized his carbon copy papers, preparing to check answers with Chu Tao.

Usually, after comparing their answers, they could roughly estimate their scores. This time, he felt his responses went smoothly, encountering almost no difficulties. After a quick review, there were no major mistakes. Chu Xingning had a strong feeling his grades might improve this time.

Knowing that Chu Tao was in Exam Room 11, he submitted his paper ten minutes early and waited outside the room.

Chu Tao, however, didn’t have the habit of submitting early; he would always use every second available to double-check. According to him, maximizing time in the exam room ensured that even if he didn’t perform well, it would be easier to forgive himself.

Chu Xingning glanced down at his phone. During exams, the school blocked signals, making the phone little more than a useless piece of metal. He slid it back into his pocket, leaned his elbows against the railing, slightly hunched over, and placed all his weight on the railing, gazing idly at the floor below.

Exam Room 11 was on the third floor, not far from the ground. The usually crowded lobby below was now desolate and empty.

The marble flooring with its scattered patterns layered upon one another became dizzying if stared at too long. Occasionally, a teacher in high heels passed by, carrying a thick stack of white exam papers, their steady footsteps echoing far down the corridor.

Submitting ten minutes early might have been a little too early, Chu Xingning thought to himself.

The corridor was chilly and deserted, with nowhere to sit. It might have been better to stay in the exam room and rest his head for a bit to recharge.

As he was lost in thought, the door to Exam Room 11 suddenly opened from the inside.

Chu Xingning was standing not far from the door, and the gust of wind that came through pressed his loose school uniform against his body.

He turned his head to glance back.

Emerging from the classroom wasn’t Chu Tao, but Fu Kaiyi.

Of course, Chu Xingning knew Fu Kaiyi. Since middle school, they had frequently competed on the grade leaderboard. Even during evaluations for municipal awards like “Outstanding Student Leader” or “Three Good Student,” Fu Kaiyi was always a competitor.

However, the two weren’t well-acquainted. Chu Xingning had developed the habit of checking Fu Kaiyi’s scores whenever results were posted but had never spoken to him.

It was unfortunate that they had never been in the same class.

Occasionally, when Fu Kaiyi outperformed him, Chu Xingning wanted to ask about his errors but thought that requesting a rival’s test paper might be inappropriate. As a result, they had never even exchanged greetings.

Now, this chance encounter outside the exam room caught Chu Xingning off guard.

But he didn’t turn his head back to pretend Fu Kaiyi wasn’t there.

Fu Kaiyi’s face was blank, but his breath caught unnaturally.

He hadn’t expected to see Chu Xingning the moment he stepped out of the exam room.

It was clear that Chu Xingning recognized him, but the hesitation about how to greet him was obvious.

Fu Kaiyi interpreted this hesitation as a sign of goodwill.

Suppressing his inner turmoil, he pressed down on his middle finger and forced himself to remain calm. He nodded toward Chu Xingning in a composed and steady manner.

Chu Xingning’s eyelashes fluttered, and he smiled back, nodding politely in return.

This was the first time Fu Kaiyi had seen Chu Xingning up close, and he was momentarily stunned.

He had always known that Chu Xingning was attractive, and his admiration for Chu Xingning stemmed not only from his academic performance but also from his looks.

However, he underestimated how much Chu Xingning’s appearance could affect him.

From less than two steps away, when Chu Xingning smiled, he could clearly see the slight swell of his lower eyelids.

Chu Xingning’s eyelashes were long, and the curve of his eyes was smooth and gentle, lacking any sharpness. When he smiled, his double eyelids folded softly, making him appear innocent and adorable.

He had never felt this way about any Omega before, finding every aspect of someone so utterly captivating.

Fu Kaiyi took a deep breath and caught a faint, sweet citrus fragrance that filled him with delight.

No wonder so many Alphas wanted to be with Chu Xingning. His face alone was a more potent attractant than any pheromone compatibility.

Unable to stop himself, Fu Kaiyi spoke, his voice slightly deeper, “What brings you here?”

Chu Xingning turned around, standing straight with his back leaning against the railing. “Oh, I’m waiting for my brother.”

The railing reached just above waist height, and as Chu Xingning leaned on it, part of his torso extended beyond its edge.

Fu Kaiyi instinctively reached out and pulled him back a bit. “Stand closer to the inside.”

Chu Xingning paused in surprise but then smiled warmly. “Thanks.”

He had an Alpha-like personality—uninhibited and thrill-seeking. Leaning on railings wasn’t new to him; he had even dared to lean halfway out before.

But since Fu Kaiyi showed concern, there was no need to explain further.

Fu Kaiyi pressed his lips together and quietly let go of Chu Xingning’s sleeve.

Even though they were both wearing school uniforms, Fu Kaiyi felt that Chu Xingning’s sleeve somehow felt softer and thinner than his own.

“Chu Tao is sitting behind me. When I left, he was still checking his work.”

When Fu Kaiyi had submitted his paper, he had instinctively glanced back at Chu Tao’s progress to gauge his level.

Chu Tao had made rapid progress in the first half of the semester and had naturally caught Fu Kaiyi’s attention.

Not wanting to seem deliberate, Fu Kaiyi only observed briefly. Chu Tao still had four major problems left to check—slightly slower than him—but still highly impressive.

Chu Xingning said casually, “Oh, I’m just here to compare answers with him. There’s no rush.”

“Can’t you compare them with me?” Fu Kaiyi said unexpectedly.

Chu Xingning raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What did you say?”

“I mean, you can compare answers with me. It’s the same, isn’t it?” Fu Kaiyi repeated.

Normally, Fu Kaiyi didn’t bother comparing answers. He was so confident, even arrogant, about his performance that he didn’t feel the need to validate it with others.

But if Chu Xingning wanted to compare, he would oblige.

Chu Xingning hesitated for a few seconds before naturally pulling out his carbon copy sheet. “I guess so.”

Given Fu Kaiyi’s reliability, it also allowed him to understand Fu Kaiyi’s capabilities better.

They stood in the corridor, holding their sheets to compare answers.

While Chu Xingning focused entirely on the papers, Fu Kaiyi found himself distracted, with much of his attention on Chu Xingning.

Math answers were quick to check since their accuracy rates were exceptionally high. They didn’t need to review the entire process—matching the final results was enough.

After two minutes, Chu Xingning exhaled. “That’s pretty much it. Our answers align.”

Their answers were nearly identical. With their confirmation, there was little room for doubt.

Fu Kaiyi nodded. “You did well this time.”

Chu Xingning tucked his carbon copy away. “So did you.”

“Do you want to compare science next?” Fu Kaiyi suddenly asked.

“Hmm?” Chu Xingning looked at him for a moment. “Sure.”

Fu Kaiyi said evenly, “Then tomorrow, just take a picture of your carbon copy and send it to me. I’ll send you mine too, so we won’t have to submit early.”

Chu Xingning didn’t mind. “Alright, let me add you.”

He took out his phone but then realized that the signal was still blocked.

“Uh… How about I give you my WeChat ID? You can add me later when there’s a signal,” Chu Xingning suggested.

“Sure.” Fu Kaiyi pressed his lips tightly, pulled out a pen from his clear folder, and tore off a small piece of carbon copy paper to hand to Chu Xingning.

Chu Xingning took the pen and wrote down his WeChat ID.

His handwriting was slightly connected, with a characteristic flourish at the end of each letter, leaving a stylish little hook.

Chu Xingning’s username was “Polaris.”

The North Star.

The heavens are boundless, yet the North Star remains steadfast, thus it is said: *“It stays in its place while all other stars encircle it.”*

Fu Kaiyi rubbed the slip of paper between his fingers, silently tightening his grip on it.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the exam, and the proctors began collecting papers from each room.

Fu Kaiyi snapped out of his thoughts and said to Chu Xingning in a neutral tone, “I’m leaving.”

“Mm.” Chu Xingning had already shifted his focus to the classroom, waiting for Chu Tao to come out.

Seeing that Chu Xingning wasn’t paying attention, Fu Kaiyi didn’t say more, picking up his bag and hurrying upstairs.

Chu Xingning dismissed it as a minor interlude and didn’t even mention it when he finally saw Chu Tao.

That evening, as the senior students stayed for self-study, Chu Tao accompanied Jiang She to the cafeteria while Chu Xingning left school to meet Pei Jiang.

Pei Jiang, who attended Qiyang Middle School just a short distance from Huainan No. 1 High School, was in his final year and preparing for the high school entrance exam.

When they first met, Pei Jiang had pitifully asked Chu Xingning for study materials and tutoring, playing the part of someone on the verge of academic collapse.

Chu Xingning, being soft-hearted and unable to resist Pei Jiang’s playful persistence, had given him plenty of review materials.

Worried that Pei Jiang might not make good use of them, Chu Xingning even shared his own study methods and, upon Pei Jiang’s request, occasionally used his mealtime to explain problems.

This was already a rare gesture for him—under the immense pressure of competing for top grades, only someone with genuine feelings would go to such lengths.

Later, however, Chu Xingning learned by accident that Pei Jiang was actually the top-ranked student in Qiyang Middle School’s third year.

Pei Jiang didn’t need anyone to explain problems to him; his grades were even better than Chu Xingning’s at the same age.

This revelation made Chu Xingning angry, and they had a falling out.

Pei Jiang’s reason for being around him had turned out to be completely fabricated, a meticulously crafted excuse.

What Chu Xingning disliked most was being lied to. He hated the feeling of being kept in the dark.

He was smart enough to figure it out—he just didn’t like guessing people’s intentions.

What made it worse was that he had thought Pei Jiang, being younger, would be pure and straightforward.

Chu Xingning initially planned to distance himself from Pei Jiang, but Pei Jiang’s relentless charm made it impossible.

Tearing up as he apologized, Pei Jiang clung to Chu Xingning like a lost child, trembling with sorrow and refusing to let go.

When Pei Jiang tearfully admitted, “I only did this because I like you, and I didn’t know how else to keep you around,” Chu Xingning’s heart softened once more.

After that, things returned to normal. Chu Xingning no longer had to tutor Pei Jiang, yet Pei Jiang continued to frequent the area around Huainan No. 1 High School.

Pei Jiang even claimed he wouldn’t apply to Huainan No. 1 High School, saying he would attend a high school near the university Chu Xingning chose, so they could see each other every day.

Even though Chu Xingning knew this plan was unlikely—no parents would allow such whims—he was still moved by Pei Jiang’s sincerity.

Though Pei Jiang could be a bit manipulative, he was at least genuine toward him.

When Chu Xingning arrived at the school gate, Pei Jiang was already there waiting for him.

Although Pei Jiang was not yet sixteen, he was almost as tall as Chu Xingning. His face, however, remained youthful and innocent, his eyes as clear and gentle as polished pebbles beneath the surface of a tranquil pond.

As Chu Xingning walked over, Pei Jiang practically threw himself at him, clinging as if he didn’t want to let go.

Chu Xingning quickly pushed him away, lowering his voice apologetically. “So many people are watching—try to be a bit more reserved.”

Pei Jiang pouted deliberately, feigning dissatisfaction. “Why doesn’t my brother seem even a little excited to see me?”

Chu Xingning couldn’t help but laugh, patting Pei Jiang’s head. “We see each other every day, don’t we?”

“But even a few hours without seeing you makes me restless,” Pei Jiang complained with mock sorrow.

“You’re so good at acting spoiled.”

Chu Xingning sighed helplessly. Pei Jiang always had a way of softening his heart, making him feel guilty and compelling him to treat Pei Jiang even better.

The two went to a well-known rice noodle shop nearby, queued for a while, and finally found a seat.

Their food was already ordered. Chu Xingning had chosen a plain rice noodle soup, while Pei Jiang ordered one with osmanthus sausage.

Before the food arrived, Chu Xingning set his phone on the table and stood up. “I’ll wash my hands. Keep an eye on my phone.”

“Sure,” Pei Jiang replied sweetly, his smile curving adorably.

Chu Xingning walked toward the restroom, while Pei Jiang propped his chin on one hand, leisurely tapping the table.

A few high school students nearby stole glances in their direction.

Initially, they were looking at Chu Xingning, captivated by his extraordinary beauty, which seemed almost untouchable.

Then their focus shifted to Pei Jiang, who was equally striking. His face had a rich and defined appearance, paired with lively, expressive eyes, exuding a youthful innocence with a hint of exotic charm.

Though the two had completely different styles of attractiveness, both were captivating and hard to look away from.

Pei Jiang soon noticed their gazes. He slowly lifted his head and casually swept his eyes over them.

His demeanor shifted entirely. The playful innocence of a child vanished, replaced by a cold, disdainful warning glinting in his dark pupils. A single glance was enough to intimidate and force others to avert their eyes.

The onlookers quickly understood that while his appearance and age were deceiving, the obedient and clingy side he displayed was reserved solely for the person who had just left.

Before Chu Xingning returned, his phone suddenly lit up on the table.

Pei Jiang’s gaze dropped, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

He picked up Chu Xingning’s phone and, glancing around to confirm he was still alone, inspected the notification.

It was a friend request.

Pei Jiang raised an eyebrow, unlocked the phone using the password Chu Xingning had shared with him, and quickly navigated to the message.

Since Chu Xingning had entrusted him with the password, it naturally implied he had the freedom to check the phone whenever he wanted.

Pei Jiang adeptly opened WeChat and noticed that his own chat was pinned at the top of the list. A satisfied smile spread across his face, like a child sneaking a piece of candy.

However, his smile faded when he saw the bold red notification. He opened it, revealing the friend request.

**Reason:** *”Xingning, this is Fu Kaiyi.”*

Pei Jiang remembered hearing Chu Xingning mention Fu Kaiyi a few times, usually during exam result discussions when Chu Xingning would casually note Fu Kaiyi’s scores.

Although it had only been mentioned two or three times, Pei Jiang’s sharp memory retained every detail.

He glanced at Fu Kaiyi’s WeChat name and couldn’t help but chuckle.

**UrsaMinor** (Little Bear Constellation).

Chu Xingning’s WeChat name was **Polaris**, the North Star, the brightest star in the Little Bear constellation, also known as **Ursa Minor α**.

The name **α** carried multiple meanings. It was the first letter of the Greek alphabet, often associated with being first or best—a fitting symbol of ambition and excellence.

Did Fu Kaiyi choose “Ursa Minor” because Polaris belongs to that constellation?

Pei Jiang’s smile vanished, replaced by a frosty glint in his eyes.

Without hesitation, he deleted Fu Kaiyi’s friend request, exited WeChat, and turned off the screen, placing the phone back on the table as if nothing had happened.

The temperature continued to drop rapidly, and the days grew shorter. By 6:40 PM, the sky was already shrouded in darkness.

Soft white lights illuminated the campus, casting a serene glow over the deep blue ground. The damp air seemed heavier, pressing gently against the earth.

After dinner, Chu Tao and Jiang She returned to the classroom, ready for an evening of self-study.

Just as Chu Tao began pulling out his workbook, Dai Wenjian called out to him: “Class rep, someone’s looking for you.”

Then Dai Wenjian meaningfully added, “It was Su Jingtong who came looking.”

The news of Su Jingtong confessing his feelings for Chu Tao on social media spread far and wide. Everyone knew how quickly Su Jingtong’s affections shifted, so most people treated it as a joke. Dai Wenjian thought it was funny too, making his expression particularly ambiguous. While speaking, he winked exaggeratedly at Chu Tao, his tone twisting and turning with playful inflections. Among alphas, it was common to tease anyone showing even a hint of romantic interest.

Jiang She gritted his teeth while staring at Dai Wenjian and then tossed an eraser at him. It hit Dai Wenjian squarely on the forehead.

“Are you planning to become a eunuch or something?” Jiang She asked mockingly.

Dai Wenjian shrank his neck and stammered, “No, She-ge, are you really jealous? I thought you didn’t like Su Jingtong. You turned him down yourself the last time he came to you. Now that he’s chasing the class leader, it’s not okay?”

Jiang She cracked his knuckles with a sharp sound, smiling dangerously. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

Chu Tao stood up and whispered to Jiang She, “That’s enough. I’ll go and explain things to him.” With that, he headed out the door.

Fang Sheng glanced sympathetically at Dai Wenjian and couldn’t resist teasing, “I told you, running straight into danger like this would backfire.”

Dai Wenjian was confused. “Wait, She-ge is actually jealous?!”

He couldn’t fathom how Su Jingtong had such charm. Besides, the bond between Jiang She and the class leader seemed so strong—it couldn’t be disrupted over something like this. Then again, Su Jingtong did have a high pheromone compatibility with both of them. Maybe Jiang She was having second thoughts?

Could this finally be the spectacle of two alphas fighting over an omega, and involving the two strongest guys in the class? Dai Wenjian even felt a little excited at the prospect.

Fang Sheng scoffed. “Yeah, he’s jealous, but not over Su Jingtong.”

Dai Wenjian froze. “What?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around the meaning of Fang Sheng’s words.

Meanwhile, at the door, Chu Tao encountered Su Jingtong holding a small cake. Su Jingtong was dressed as ostentatiously as ever, forgoing inhibitors but exuding a strong perfume scent that lingered in the air. Seeing Chu Tao, Su Jingtong shyly smiled.

“I heard about what happened during the exams,” Su Jingtong said. “You stood up for me in front of Liang Yitian.”

Chu Tao’s eyelid twitched, and he replied, “I was just addressing the situation.”

Su Jingtong, unfazed, wore a dreamy expression and muttered, “I understand.”

Chu Tao thought to himself, *Maybe you don’t.*

Su Jingtong added, “Liang Yitian is such an idiot, a coward. He’s got no guts. But don’t take it seriously. I only act cold towards him because I don’t like him. You’re different, though. I really—”

“Su Jingtong, there’s something I need to tell you,” Chu Tao interrupted just as Su Jingtong was about to confess.

Su Jingtong paused, mumbling, “Oh, go ahead.”

Chu Tao spoke seriously. “I didn’t expect our pheromone compatibility to be so high, but I’m not someone who lets compatibility dictate my feelings. I have no bias against you, and I don’t believe in baseless rumors. I stood up for you because I dislike Liang Yitian’s behavior and his insults toward omegas. But that doesn’t mean I like you. I truly only see you as… a fellow schoolmate.”

Not even a friend—just a classmate.

Su Jingtong was stunned, immediately rebutting, “That’s just because we’re not close yet! I didn’t want to bother you during exams, but once we spend more time together, you’ll definitely like me. Pheromone attraction is irresistible, after all.”

He was certain of this, with numerous cases supporting the idea. When pheromone compatibility reached a high enough level, mutual attraction was inevitable, even if it didn’t lead to a relationship.

Chu Tao’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his peach blossom eyes flickered slightly. Avoiding Su Jingtong’s gaze, he stared at the swaying banner in the corridor and sighed. “Actually, I already have someone I like.”

Su Jingtong blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then again, it wasn’t surprising. Before he liked Chu Tao, he had liked many others—Jiang She being the one he had chased the longest.

“Which omega? Their pheromone compatibility with you can’t be higher than mine,” Su Jingtong speculated.

“There’s no pheromone compatibility between us,” Chu Tao replied calmly. “I don’t like omegas. I like alphas. I’m with Jiang She. Sorry.”

He said it all in one breath, leaving no room for misunderstanding or hesitation.

Su Jingtong’s facial muscles twitched uncontrollably. “You’re with *who*?”

“Jiang She,” Chu Tao repeated, unflinching. “We’re… in the kind of relationship where we’ve shared a bed.” He deliberately used a suggestive tone, hoping to completely end Su Jingtong’s delusions.

Su Jingtong’s worldview seemed to shatter in that moment.

He widened his eyes in shock, his mouth twitching involuntarily as he sized up Chu Tao from head to toe.

The super-dominant alpha he currently liked was now together with the super-dominant alpha he had previously liked. And both of them had a 99% pheromone compatibility with him. Was the world playing some kind of joke on him?

Could two alphas really share a bed without fighting to the death?

Feeling a bit soft-hearted, Chu Tao reached out and patted his shoulder. “I know it might be hard for you to accept, but try to come to terms with it, okay?”

Su Jingtong couldn’t help but ask, “So, the reason Jiang She rejected me back then was… because of you?”

Chu Tao pressed his lips together. “Seems like it.”

Su Jingtong, his mind short-circuiting, blurted out in a dazed yet sincere tone, “Can we… uh… have a threesome?”

Chu Tao’s face immediately darkened as he firmly rejected, “Absolutely not.”

—

Author’s Note:
I was feeling unwell yesterday and ended up falling asleep, sorry about that.
Thank you to the lovely readers who sent me kudos or nutrient fluid between 2020-05-30 10:36:08 and 2020-06-01 02:37:47!

Special thanks for the landmines:
– Qcumber, Happy Xiaojin (1 each)

Special thanks for the nutrient solutions:

Thank you all so much for your support. I’ll keep working hard!