The residential area where Ning Zhu lived was quite well-located—away from the road, quiet, and with low housing density. During the day, the only sounds came from children playing in the small park below on weekends. After nightfall, everything fell completely silent. But perhaps because there was a simple, gullible Alpha in the living room downstairs, Ning Zhu felt tonight seemed less cold and desolate than usual.

He closed his eyes and slept soundly.

Knock… knock…

He rolled over.

Knock… knock…

He pulled the blanket over his head and covered his ears.

Knock…

Ning Zhu suddenly threw off the covers and sat up, chilled to the bone.

He listened carefully. The sound was knocking coming from outside the bedroom door. And it was getting closer, as if something was tapping on each door in turn. What made it especially terrifying was how softly it was knocking—in the dead of night, that softness only amplified the dread.

All sleep vanished from Ning Zhu. He reached for his phone beside the pillow and checked the time.

Two in the morning.

“…”

In that instant, Ning Zhu suddenly understood the resentful look Dou Changxiao had given him when he’d roused him with his shout.

He rubbed his face, shuffled out of bed in his slippers, and positioned himself behind the bedroom door.

As the knocking drew nearer, finally reaching his bedroom door, Ning Zhu yanked the door panel open the moment it sounded once.

His expression dark and grim, he locked eyes with the person outside, his face unusually sour as he snapped, “I have to work tomorrow morning.”

Dou Changxiao slowly withdrew his knocking hand.

Ning Zhu observed his gaze—clear yet distant, radiating a cold detachment—and knew this Dou Changxiao was no longer the drunken fool who’d let him pinch his cheeks without protest.

They stood facing each other in silence for a long moment.

Ning Zhu shook off his morning grogginess and said, “…Didn’t I leave you a note?”

It said to let me go.

Dou Changxiao asked him, “How did I end up in your place?”

Ning Zhu looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember anything?”

Dou Changxiao: “What did you give me to drink?”

Ning Zhu: “You’re not seriously planning to pull a scam, are you?”

Dou Changxiao: “What did you give me to drink?”

Ning Zhu: “…”

The air froze for a moment. Both seemed to realize that continuing this round of questions would lead nowhere.

Ning Zhu decided to back down first. Dou Changxiao had asked the same question twice—clearly, this matter concerned him most.

With a sigh, he dug that peculiar taste from his memory.

Ning Zhu couldn’t quite pinpoint the sour-salty flavor profile, but the astringent sensation in the drink was easier to describe: “…I think it was some kind of specialty cocktail.”

The other flavors were so overpowering that the alcohol itself was barely noticeable.

Dou Changxiao: “…”

Alcohol? That lemonade-looking concoction that tasted like borscht was actually alcohol?

Dou Changxiao never wasted food, so no matter how awful something tasted, he never threw it away.

By the time his body registered something was wrong, it was already too late.

He’d intended to hail a cab back to campus immediately, but before he could reach the hotel lobby, his consciousness began to blur.

When his memory resumed, he found himself in an unfamiliar space. Dim light filled the room, and a projection screen across the room glowed with a ghostly blue light. On the coffee table beside him sat a suspicious USB drive, propped up by a strange note…

Hadn’t he been covered by a thick blanket, and hadn’t the handwriting on the note seemed oddly familiar, he might have thought he’d stumbled into some bizarre locked room.

Seeing him silent, Ning Zhu assumed Dou Changxiao was fixated on that “lemon juice” and suspected him of tampering with it. His brows immediately knitted in displeasure.

But Dou Changxiao merely pursed his lips lightly and let the matter drop.

Ning Zhu’s expression gradually relaxed. He chuckled, “Don’t go blaming me for getting you drunk. How could your tolerance be that low?”

Dou Changxiao paused.

“…I’m not.”

Ning Zhu: “I figured as much. But your behavior when drunk is truly terrible.”

Dou Changxiao remained silent for a while.

His demeanor made Ning Zhu feel as though he somehow knew what kind of person he became when drunk.

Dou Changxiao pulled the USB drive Ning Zhu had given him from his outer coat pocket and said, “You really like slipping things into notes.”

Ning Zhu had no rebuttal.

Dou Changxiao: “What’s this?”

Ning Zhu: “My innocence.”

“…” The calm in Dou Changxiao’s eyes shattered abruptly.

Ning Zhu read his gaze. “…Not that kind of… innocence.”

He regretted his offhand remark, which had led to such a frivolous misunderstanding. An inexplicable awkwardness washed over him in that moment.

The bedroom lights were off, only a faint ambient glow illuminating the space. It felt as though the surrounding air had been swallowed by the gloom, becoming almost suffocating.

Ning Zhu raised his hand to the wall switch. With a click, the light flooded the room.

Dou Changxiao squinted. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed Ning Zhu wore a nightgown with a low neckline, revealing a broad expanse of skin below his collarbone.

His gaze lingered for a moment before he promptly lowered his eyes.

The awkward, lingering tension dissolved in the bright light. Ning Zhu exhaled a barely perceptible sigh of relief before returning to their earlier topic. “As for how you ended up in my home, it wasn’t like I begged you to stay.”

As soon as he spoke, Dou Changxiao lifted his eyes to meet Ning Zhu’s again.

Ning Zhu hadn’t worn his collar while sleeping. A few strands of soft, jet-black hair brushed against his skin at the nape of his neck. His porcelain-white, delicate neck glowed with a luminous sheen under the light.

There was nothing particularly revealing about it—S University’s campus was filled with daily attire far bolder than this. As fellow males, their upper-body anatomy was identical, and not every Omega wore a collar in public anyway.

Yet Ning Zhu’s skin was so luminous it was almost blinding. After a few seconds, Dou Changxiao shifted his gaze away.

“…”

After all this commotion—the lemon juice, the question of innocence, and whether his own terrible drinking habits had caused trouble yesterday—Dou Changxiao found himself unable to voice any of these concerns.

After a while, he finally spoke: “I’m heading back.”

Ning Zhu responded with a casual “Oh,” not noticing that the man across from him hadn’t looked directly at him since the lights came on. “Then I won’t see you out,” he said lazily.

Despite this, as Dou Changxiao descended the stairs, Ning Zhu leaned against the second-floor railing, pretending to wave briefly, his gaze following the other man partway down.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Dou Changxiao wandered aimlessly through the residential complex for a long while.

The cool autumn night breeze swept through him, clearing the images from his mind. That faint unease in his heart gradually dissipated.

He tried to reconstruct yesterday’s events, but no matter how hard he forced himself to recall, he couldn’t remember anything that happened after reaching the lobby.

What had he done? How had he ended up following that Ning fellow home?

The thought that he might have made a fool of himself in front of Ning yesterday sent a prickly sensation down Dou Changxiao’s spine.

From this perspective, not remembering anything might actually be a blessing.

He pressed his lips together, thinking: Why did he keep running into this Ning guy everywhere?

Their social circles seemed to overlap in some way. The Cheng family, the Ren family… He’d have to steer clear of them all from now on.

Fortunately, the academy would soon require internship evaluations. With many courses crammed into the first semester, he wouldn’t have much time to leave campus lately. He shouldn’t run into him on campus.

Dou Changxiao hailed a cab back to campus. Ning Zhu’s residence wasn’t far from S University; the ride took only ten minutes. He hadn’t even had time to think during the trip. By the time he snapped back to awareness, the car had already pulled up at the east gate.

When he entered the dorm, his roommates were all fast asleep. He quietly closed the door and returned to his own bunk.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, Dou Changxiao felt a cold, hard object. Only then did he remember the USB drive still tucked there.

His laptop sat on the corner of the desk. He instinctively powered it on, but hesitated before inserting the drive.

Since he wouldn’t have anything to do with that Ning guy anymore, was there any point in opening what he’d given him?

Reason told him “no.”

Dou Changxiao casually tossed the USB drive into the nearby trash can. Instead, he switched on the desk lamp and dimmed it to its lowest setting.

He had no idea how long he’d slept at Ning Zhu’s place, but now he felt not a shred of drowsiness.

Dou Changxiao pulled a textbook from the shelf and flipped to a page under the dim glow.

After staring at the text and illustrations for several minutes, he suddenly shifted, flipping the book upside down.

After righting it, Dou Changxiao continued to stare intently for a while longer.

“…”

In the dorm room, a mechanical clock belonging to someone ticked rhythmically.

The second hand clicked and clacked through two full rotations.

Dou Changxiao closed the book and bent down to rummage through the trash can.

Straightening up, he powered on his laptop, inserted the freshly retrieved USB drive into the port, and clicked it open. Only a single video file resided inside.

The mouse cursor hovered hesitantly over the video file for two seconds before he pressed the left button to play.

The computer was on mute. Dou Changxiao had forgotten to grab his headphones, so he stood up again to retrieve them from the overhead storage cabinet.

Everyone else was resting, so he moved slowly and quietly. By the time he reconnected the Bluetooth and sat back down, the video progress bar was already past the halfway point. He caught the moment on screen where Ning Zhu held his arms up as if being embraced by someone.

Dou Changxiao’s gaze turned colder. “…”

He watched for a few more seconds and recognized who that “someone” was.

Dou Changxiao: “…”

Seconds later, the ‘someone’ on screen released their grip.

“…Excuse me,” the voice in his headphones suddenly grew louder—it was the person filming speaking—“Would you like me to call the police?”

Ning Zhu turned toward the camera in the video. Dou Changxiao noticed his face was slightly flushed, likely from the fabric rubbing against it.

“No need.”

A faint hint of gritted teeth could be heard in his voice.

The person filming added, “I’m truly sorry. I’ll delete the video immediately.”

Ning Zhu casually hummed in acknowledgment, but instead of immediately looking away, he stared thoughtfully at the camera for a moment.

For a split second, Dou Changxiao even felt as if the other’s gaze had pierced through the screen and landed on him.

He locked eyes with the figure on the screen for a few moments.

Ning Zhu suddenly curved his lips into a mischievous smile.

“…Before you delete it, could you send me a copy?”

Dou Changxiao: “…”

The progress bar ended here.

A few minutes later, that USB drive finally found its way into the trash can.