: How Could She Still Want…
In the corner of the bookshelf, in an inconspicuous spot, stood a lonely, dust-covered trophy.
Leaning in, Zhong Xiu squatted beside the corner. It read: First Prize in the High School Computer Competition, a provincial-level competition. The tennis competition she saw earlier was only municipal-level. Based on the significance of the award, it shouldn’t have been relegated here.
“The first time I participated in this competition, it helped me see Mom and Dad. The date is written on the bottom,” Lin Xi bent down to explain to Zhong Xiu. “At the time, winning the award led a company to want to sign me, asking me to join their programming team directly, with dedicated mentors to teach project development.”
Programming requires a lot of innate talent. People who excel in software often show exceptional giftedness at a young age, and Lin Xi was no exception. The first time she opened an editor, she was drawn to the rigorous logic of the programming language. Relying on countless open-source projects shared by seniors in the open network world, she taught herself and became self-taught.
“I really liked it, and it also came with funding. They were constantly traveling for money. I wanted to prove to them that I could earn money too.”
It was rare to hear the word “like” from her. When she spoke about these things, her eyes seemed to hold a different kind of glow than usual, and Zhong Xiu listened attentively.
But the Alpha had cold water thrown on her: her parents were happy that she was interested in programming because it symbolized her high IQ. However, they became very angry when they heard she wanted to devote significant time and energy to it.
— The family has money. You don’t need to earn money this way.
That was her mother’s original statement. Her parents’ expectations for her were to be a good Top-tier Alpha, do what Alphas should do, inherit the company, make it flourish, and establish herself in society.
Other hobbies were fine for fun and for winning honors to prove her capability. Spending too much time on them was seen as neglecting her proper duties.
This trophy was the typical representation of her neglecting her duties, which was why it was isolated in this corner.
“They violently opposed my programming, afraid that my eyesight would worsen from looking at the computer.”
“But my eyesight is still 1.2 now.” When she mentioned this, Lin Xi’s tone, for once, carried a hint of grievance that was difficult to discern without listening closely.
Zhong Xiu nodded gently, unsure how to comfort her.
Lin Xi turned on the desk lamp and went to her room to get her school bag.
Zhong Xiu took the dusty trophy out of the corner and wiped it clean with a tissue. She placed it on the desk. The trophy’s shape was actually quite beautiful, a capital ‘C’, shining with a crystal glow like the moon under the light.
Hopefully, the Alpha’s ability won’t be covered by dust like this.
A tablet displayed an Excel sheet used to record Zhong Xiu’s study progress. For subjects with strong logic, like Science and Math, Lin Xi divided them into different modules listed on the left side of the table. After each review, she listed the date next to the corresponding module and used red, yellow, or green colors to mark the results of Zhong Xiu’s tests on each module.
This allowed her to see past review dates and progress, as well as identify weak areas. For content already mastered (marked green), the review frequency would be lower. Currently, Zhong Xiu’s Math still had Calculus and Conic Sections marked in red, but everything else was green.
When she was tutoring Math, Lin Xi set small goals for her, not based on advancing her rank or improving her score.
After every test, Lin Xi would analyze the types of questions she got wrong and the reasons why, then focus on reviewing those specific topics during the interval, aiming not to make the same mistake in the next test. This relatively gentle method of progress, where she only competed against herself, significantly reduced Zhong Xiu’s pressure. She didn’t have to focus on others.
Strangely enough, by diligently identifying and addressing knowledge gaps step by step, her ranking kept progressing. In her first year of high school, Zhong Xiu was among the last few to enter Science Class 1; now, she was at a mid-class level, except for Physics, which she had never passed.
Now that Lin Xi was determined to raise her Physics grade, simply thinking about it gave Zhong Xiu an inexplicable boost of confidence. Except—
The textbook was open to the page on uniform acceleration rectilinear motion. Zhong Xiu felt sleepy just seeing the words “free fall.” The rows of formulas and theorems made her genuinely want to eliminate the letters $s-v-t-a-g$ from the alphabet.
Whenever she saw these, she was reminded of the physics teacher’s voice and his look of contempt for Beta students.
She stared at the picture in the textbook, resting her head on her hand, clearly entering daydream mode.
“Zhong Xiu,” Lin Xi closed the book and put it aside. “You are now a police officer. A citizen was killed by a watermelon thrown from an upstairs window while passing a farmers market. The weight of the watermelon can be technically measured, and the forensic examination can determine the impact force on his head. However, none of the residents in the building admit to throwing the watermelon. Which floor do you think has the highest suspicion?”
This beginning seemed a little different. Zhong Xiu thought for a moment. “Fingerprint analysis?”
“The watermelon smashed into pieces; no prints can be recovered.”
“Are there surveillance cameras nearby? Check the footage?”
“Blind spot.”
“Then arrest everyone, and use psychological tactics based on the time, location, and motive!”
“No motive. Accidental killing. All residents were home. Psychological tactics are useless; they all refuse to admit it,” Lin Xi patiently countered every suggestion.
“How can it be like this?” Zhong Xiu lowered her head. “Then I’ll just quit. I’m not being a police officer anymore.”
“Fine,” Lin Xi nodded.
“Great!” Zhong Xiu’s eyes lit up.
“You are now the suspect. Please prove your innocence.”
“…”
It proved that playing dirty or acting cheeky was ineffective against an academic genius determined to improve her physics grade. Zhong Xiu was forced to become the “suspect” and prove her innocence, which meant learning the analysis of free-fall motion.
Lin Xi’s teaching method was different from the physics teacher’s. The teacher started with the formula, then moved to application and problem-solving. Lin Xi guided her to utilize the formulas by focusing on the problem-solving thought process. She even had Zhong Xiu abstract real-life problems into questions, essentially making her set her own test questions.
With mixed feelings, Zhong Xiu embarked on her physics learning journey. Today, Lin Xi only made her set the problems and outline the approach, without requiring her to list the formulas or calculate, which made Zhong Xiu relax a bit and slowly lower her guard.
By the time she had abstracted a series of common free-fall applications into specific exercises, today’s task was complete. Zhong Xiu felt a nascent interest in mechanics. After all, she knew in what scenarios this theorem could be used, and the specifics of the calculation, Lin Xi said, were secondary.
Time passed quickly. When Zhong Xiu looked up, the sky had already darkened.
The view from the study’s floor-to-ceiling window was excellent, showing a wide, open view of the city skyline and lights, as well as the Mother River surrounding C City, where the moonlight cast a silvery sheen on the water.
“How do you feel? Is there anything you don’t understand?”
In the reflection of the glass window, Zhong Xiu saw the Alpha opposite her tilting her head and asking.
“I feel good.”
“Good, turn around,” Lin Xi bent down to retrieve the ointment from her school bag on the floor. She dabbed some cool soft cream onto a sterile cotton swab and hooked the chair leg with her calf.
“Oh,” Zhong Xiu’s body, along with the chair, was effortlessly pulled closer to her.
Showing her neck to an Alpha—even though she wasn’t an Omega and didn’t have a scent gland, wasn’t that a bit too much?
“I’ll do it myself.” Zhong Xiu raised her hand to adjust her hair, trying to peel off the bandage herself. As soon as she lifted a corner, a sharp pain shot through the back of her neck, making her gasp.
“Don’t move.” Lin Xi placed one hand on her shoulder, exerted a little force, and gently put her hand down. “I’ll do it.”
The Alpha’s voice was softer than soft when she said this. Zhong Xiu’s face involuntarily heated up.
Lin Xi skillfully peeled off the bandage from her low ponytail. From Lin Xi’s vantage point, the situation on the back of her neck was perfectly clear.
Dark red scabs and clear teeth marks were left on Zhong Xiu’s pale neck, the color contrast vivid. Lin Xi felt she might truly be ill. Biting a Beta was one thing, but why had she bitten so hard? “Does it hurt badly?”
“It doesn’t hurt if you don’t touch it,” Zhong Xiu’s mind was a mess.
She felt like Lin Xi might bite her again the next second. The scene on the mountain had left Zhong Xiu with some muscle memory: the Alpha’s great strength, pinning her hands, her soft body pressing against Zhong Xiu’s back.
Looking at the marks on her neck, Lin Xi’s memory began to resurface. She wasn’t sure what she was thinking then; her mind was a haze. She had smelled Zhong Xiu’s neck for a long time; it did smell good.
But now she realized it wasn’t a pheromone scent at all; it was just Zhong Xiu’s natural body odor, the personal scent that people of all ABO genders have.
Lin Xi licked her lips.
How could she still want to bite Zhong Xiu?
Perhaps it was because Zhong Xiu was the only person she had contact with during her differentiation period, or perhaps Zhong Xiu was the only person near her. Either way, it made her seem pitiful, and hateful.
The pharmacist said it would take dozens of days to heal. Lin Xi thought it might take longer. Zhong Xiu’s skin was too delicate; the marks from her tight grip yesterday were still visible on her wrists.
The cool ointment touched her skin, and Zhong Xiu instinctively flinched, but she was too nervous to move much. Zhong Xiu stared down at the geometric patterns on the carpet. Lin Xi’s two long legs had no place to rest, one stretching out on either side of the chair. Her feet, clad in slippers, kept drawing Zhong Xiu’s attention. Her feet were so pale, her toes rosy, slightly upturned, and very cute.
Until she tilted her head and saw that the reflection in the window showed a somewhat ambiguous posture: Lin Xi behind her, concentrating on applying the medicine, while she was so nervous that her legs were tightly pressed together, her palms stiffly resting on her knees, looking awkward.
“How do you feel? Can you control your pheromones?” Zhong Xiu wanted to find a topic to distract herself.
“…So-so.”
That “so-so” carried a hint of guilt.
“That’s good,” Zhong Xiu said softly.
Zhong Xiu had overheard You Tian and the others discussing the Alphas in their class during break. They talked about scents like mint, red wine, and musk, and even stranger ones like gasoline and sulfur, which sounded interesting.
For Zhong Xiu, that was all they were.
She still didn’t dare ask about Lin Xi’s pheromone scent, not even as a joke.
“I’m sorry,” Lin Xi finished quickly, tossing the cotton swab into the trash can with an apologetic tone.
“It’s okay,” Zhong Xiu smiled with curved eyes. In the reflective glass of the window, the smile appeared like a crescent moon, along with her upturned lips—dazzling and making people unconsciously want to smile with her.
Why would someone smile so brightly, like a piece of white paper stained with clear blue ink, pure and clean? Lin Xi could never create this color on herself.
“Does wearing this look strange?” A thick scent-suppressing patch covered the back of her neck, making Zhong Xiu feel uncomfortable.
“The suppressing patch is better than a regular bandage and easier to remove.” After treating the wound, Lin Xi let down her hair.
“Mm.” Zhong Xiu saw her lick her lip in the glass reflection, thinking she must be hungry. “Is the food we got from the cafeteria cold now?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lin Xi said carelessly. Alphas have strong adaptability; a little cold food won’t have serious consequences.
When she picked up the food containers, Zhong Xiu reached out and touched them with the back of her hand. They were indeed cold.
“But, I told my dad,” Zhong Xiu looked down at Lin Xi’s slightly upturned feet on the carpet. “I told him you’d be going home to eat with me.”
The hand on the plastic bag stopped moving. Lin Xi looked at her, tilting her head. “When?”
Zhong Xiu put all the notebooks and scratch paper on the desk into her school bag.
“Now.”