TAO | Chapter 78

Jiang Zhan only ever wore wristbands when playing ball—not to show off, but purely to prevent injuries.

Now that he’d quit the basketball club, there was no need to wear them anymore. But since Wei Xiaochi had brought it up, right after lunch Jiang Zhan rushed back to the classroom and dug one out from his desk pouch.

The wristband carried the faint scent of an alpha—his scent—but it wasn’t strong. Wei Xiaochi hadn’t dared let Jiang Zhan release too much pheromone onto it.

Back when Jiang Zhan was in his sensitivity period, Wei Xiaochi had worn his clothes to school once and almost caused suspicion.

That day, two Omegas from class caught a whiff of alpha scent on Wei Xiaochi and specifically came over to ask what was going on between him and Jiang Zhan, why he smelled so strongly of someone else’s pheromones.

Wei Xiaochi had brushed it off with a clumsy excuse.

Probably because they couldn’t imagine anything ever happening between him and Jiang Zhan, those two Omegas didn’t think much of it.

But now they were actually dating, and Wei Xiaochi felt like he had a guilty conscience, terrified someone would find out.

Not everyone was as nosy as Zhang Mingyang and willing to run straight to a teacher, but better safe than sorry.

—

Maybe it was because his heat was just around the corner, but after catching the light scent of Jiang Zhan’s pheromones on the wristband, Wei Xiaochi felt an uncomfortable sensation at the back of his neck.

Was his heat coming?

His nape felt hot and bloated, his blood vessels throbbing faintly—like a volcano buried beneath the skin, about to erupt.

He couldn’t help pressing a hand to his gland. The wristband’s coarse fabric brushed against that patch of soft skin, and the faint alpha scent within rose up like a cool flame, wrapping around the sensitive area.

Wei Xiaochi grew even more uncomfortable. He took off his glasses and slumped over his desk, drained.

Zhang Mingyang glanced at him.

The Omega’s features were delicate and clean, his outline soft and gentle. He drooped his eyelids sleepily, the corners of his eyes naturally lifting into a graceful curve.

It was still the same face, yet somehow… different.

Zhang Mingyang frowned. He didn’t like this version of Wei Xiaochi. At all. He lifted his foot and kicked the table leg. The desk rattled, jostling the slumbering Omega.

Wei Xiaochi lifted his eyelids, looking at Zhang Mingyang with a blank expression.

Zhang Mingyang didn’t look at him. He started rearranging his books with loud, unnecessary noise—stacking them with a heavy thump before shoving them into the desk shelf.

Wei Xiaochi couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He put his glasses back on, pulled out an English test paper, and slumped forward to do practice questions.

The discomfort in his neck didn’t ease. Before he presented as an Omega, his neck had felt weird for days too, so he wasn’t too worried.

When it got particularly bad, he’d rub the wristband on it. It didn’t make the symptoms go away, but it did help him mentally relax.

Zhang Mingyang noticed that little gesture and glanced at the red wristband. He let out a snide snort. “Ugly people always like to act up.”

Still unsatisfied, he added, “You’d better wake up and face reality.”

Hearing that classic Zhang Mingyang-style passive aggression, Wei Xiaochi rolled his eyes but didn’t bother replying.

To be more accurate, he didn’t want to argue over something that dumb. He knew exactly where Zhang Mingyang’s pettiness came from.

It was because he hadn’t followed Zhang Mingyang’s oh-so-sincere advice to break up with Jiang Zhan. Now he saw Wei Xiaochi as an eyesore and constantly looked for reasons to pick on him.

Normally, Wei Xiaochi didn’t push back on people. Whether it was Wei Dongjia, Madam Wei, or Fang Zhixin—or even his teachers, no matter how they treated him—at most, he just wanted to escape. He never resisted. He never even thought about resisting.

But this time, for some reason, he felt really irritated. He didn’t even want to hear Zhang Mingyang talk.

So he just tuned him out, kept his head down doing practice problems, and pretended the guy didn’t exist. If Zhang Mingyang really pissed him off, he’d just mutter, “Mind your own business.”

—

That afternoon, Wei Minzhen had gone to a meeting at the education bureau with the principal. By the time they got back, the school bell was ringing for dismissal.

He went to the office to copy some files, then shut down the computer, clamped the printed documents under his arm, and walked out.

Right at the school gate, he ran into Jiang Zhan pushing his signature trash bins.

Wei Minzhen froze. His face shifted into an expression that could only be described as… indescribable.

Jiang Zhan was pushing two oversized bins—one full of plastic bottles, the other stacked with waste paper.

Just yesterday, he’d overheard a few teachers joking in the office, saying Jiang Zhan had taken his “business” to a new level. If he caught a teacher with a delivery, the box would mysteriously disappear. He even stopped by the school printer room every day asking if they had leftover paper.

As he passed by, Jiang Zhan spotted the stack of papers tucked under Wei Minzhen’s arm.

“You still need those?” he asked with his usual deadpan.

Realizing Jiang Zhan was now trying to collect from him, Wei Minzhen almost laughed in disbelief. “Of course I do. Those are important documents.”

Jiang Zhan, hearing it couldn’t be sold, lost interest immediately and was about to leave—until Wei Minzhen stopped him.

“Wait.” The director couldn’t hold back his curiosity. He raised his chin toward the bins. “What are you doing with all that?”

Jiang Zhan answered without hesitation, “Selling it.”

Wei Minzhen’s mouth twitched. He guessed, “Selling to donate to disaster relief?”

“We don’t even have money ourselves.”

Jiang Zhan didn’t want to chat and just walked off after dropping that.

Wei Minzhen found the words absurd coming from him.

Sure, anyone else might lack money—but Jiang Zhan? His mom’s company could sneeze and five major banks would line up to offer loans. What’s he doing collecting bottles to scrape by?

But something in what Jiang Zhan said caught his attention.

“We don’t have money.” We?

Who’s we?

Wei Minzhen looked up—and finally noticed there was someone walking behind Jiang Zhan.

Not that his eyesight was bad. It was just that his internal radar only picked up problem students like Jiang Zhan. Next to someone like that, anyone else would blend into the background.

Especially when the person looked like a model student, had an honest, quiet face, and kept so low-profile that he barely registered.

His first thought was—did Jiang Zhan coerce some poor good kid into doing grunt work for him?

Then he took a closer look. The student looked familiar.

After a bit of mental digging, he remembered—Wei Xiaochi.

He’d once helped tutor a few of the academically challenged basketball team members, and they’d actually passed their exams thanks to him.

Now, seeing those two shadows stretched out in the sunset, Wei Minzhen rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“We”—was that “we” as in him and Wei Xiaochi?

Could it be… them?

Just as the thought popped up, Wei Minzhen shook his head immediately—no way. Those two didn’t look like they could even pee into the same pot, let alone be involved with each other.

He felt like he was being paranoid… but his eyes still zeroed in on Wei Xiaochi.

Then he saw it—that slash of red on his wrist.

It was a wristband. Jiang Zhan’s wristband. The same “fashion statement” that had once taken No. 2 High by storm before being forcefully squashed.

That bright red color looked completely out of place on the quiet, meek Wei Xiaochi.

Wei Minzhen narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

—

Wei Xiaochi could immediately feel a sharp gaze sticking to his back like a shadow. He turned and locked eyes with the director’s eagle stare.

His heart jumped, and he quickly looked away.

Jiang Zhan noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Wei Xiaochi whispered, “The director’s staring at us. D’you think he noticed something?”

He was so guilty he couldn’t even look Jiang Zhan in the eye, terrified Wei Minzhen might catch on.

After a minute or two of silence, Jiang Zhan still hadn’t responded—which was very unlike him. Wei Xiaochi couldn’t hold it anymore and sneaked a glance.

The moment their eyes met, Jiang Zhan turned his face away with a huffy snort and stormed ahead.

Wei Xiaochi was completely confused. What did I do now?

“What do you mean ‘noticed us’?” Jiang Zhan said, clearly annoyed. “What’re we, broken-up exes?”

Wei Xiaochi was caught off guard. The last time they talked about this… he had been the one to suggest breaking up. But Jiang Zhan never agreed to it.

So technically, were they even broken up? Wei Xiaochi couldn’t say for sure.

Seeing him quiet, Jiang Zhan got even more annoyed, his face dark as he stomped ahead in silence—a total sulk.

Wei Xiaochi glanced at him. Then glanced again. Opened his mouth, closed it. Finally, he stammered, “You… you didn’t agree, right?”

Jiang Zhan acted like someone had stepped on his tail. “What do you mean I didn’t agree? You liked me first!”

Wei Xiaochi, too used to getting blamed, wanted to argue—but with Jiang Zhan, once he decided something was true, then it was true. No point arguing.

“You even wanted to break up with me.”

Jiang Zhan’s voice was tight and a little aggrieved. He stopped walking, turning to look at Wei Xiaochi.

Faced with those piercing, awkward, expectant eyes, Wei Xiaochi’s throat burned. He could barely squeeze the words out. “Sh-should we… keep walking?”

Jiang Zhan kicked the bin, grumbling, “Walk where?”

Blood rushed to Wei Xiaochi’s heart, like a balloon inflating in his chest. Each thump made his fingers tremble.

He looked at Jiang Zhan and, after a pause, mumbled, “Th-then maybe… let’s not break up?”

The second he said it, Jiang Zhan pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Wei Xiaochi froze, letting the alpha nuzzle and sniff all over like some overgrown dog that had finally been let back into the house.

Jiang Zhan clung to him, trying to soak in his scent, and trying even harder to cover him in his own.

Like he wanted to mark his territory and tell every other stray mutt to back off.

Wei Xiaochi was practically crushed in his arms. Jiang Zhan was radiating a clingy, skin-starved energy, like someone with serious physical touch withdrawal.

With his nose still buried in Wei Xiaochi’s neck, Jiang Zhan muttered, voice hoarse, “Chi Chi.”

Wei Xiaochi blinked. That soft, syrupy nickname made him freeze on the spot.

After a while, Jiang Zhan finally calmed down, realizing how clingy he’d been. He furrowed his brows. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He didn’t even seem to realize what he’d just said or done. That whole reaction had come straight from instinct.

Wei Xiaochi came back to his senses and shook his head stiffly, brain overflowing with thoughts that tangled like spaghetti.

Jiang Zhan grumbled, “No more breakup talk, got it? If there’s a problem, we fix it. Why are you always throwing a tantrum?”

Wei Xiaochi was stunned.

Coming from you, of all people?

Hearing someone as unreasonable as Jiang Zhan talking about “resolving conflicts” was… surreal.

Of course, he still twisted the whole thing around to make it sound like Wei Xiaochi was the one always throwing fits.

Wei Xiaochi didn’t argue. He just nodded like a turtle, slow and obedient.