Dou Changxiao’s spine-chilling gaze lasted only a fleeting moment before his eyelashes lowered.

Ning Zhu remained silent.

He didn’t read into it; he simply felt Dou Changxiao’s anger was justified.

The other party held no obligation to forgive him. This wasn’t a matter that could be arbitrarily swept under the rug with a sincere apology or equivalent compensation. Yet, at this moment, he truly couldn’t do more.

Ning Zhu quietly brooded, while Dou Changxiao reined in the emotion he’d just displayed.

He seldom experienced such intense emotion, yet now his pulse quickened noticeably. He sensed something was off.

This shouldn’t be happening.

Ning Zhu hadn’t deceived him.

If he resented the other’s past actions, he could have simply agreed to the compensation terms offered earlier. There was no need to feel this unsettled over such a minor matter.

Yet… the truth was, in every scenario he’d imagined, no matter what Ning Zhu did, he wouldn’t feel satisfied.

Dou Changxiao suddenly felt confused: What did he truly want?

First, he’d inexplicably changed his flight—originally scheduled for tomorrow morning—and flown from Haicheng to Beicheng late at night. Now, he couldn’t stand the sight of Ning Zhu anywhere. Yet this man wasn’t so utterly despicable that he’d despise him from head to toe.

During the two-hour flight, Dou Changxiao pondered many questions, but the answers he found barely convinced himself.

Only one thing was certain: he truly needed to keep his distance from this Ning fellow.

Whenever he encountered this man, he became utterly unpredictable.

After standing face-to-face for nearly a minute, Dou Changxiao spoke: “I don’t need anything.”

He didn’t seem as intimidating as before. Ning Zhu watched him quietly.

“Just don’t come bother me again.”

Dou Changxiao’s voice was low and calm as he spoke. Yet something seemed to prick Ning Zhu’s heart, stirring a faint, tangy ache that left him feeling rather unsettled.

He didn’t dwell on it, replying earnestly, “I promise.”

Dou Changxiao: “…”

Ning Zhu felt he should vanish from the man’s sight immediately, but suddenly remembered something. “Ah… Sorry, S University’s anniversary is in a couple of days. I’ll have to come back.”

Dou Changxiao didn’t respond.

Ning Zhu actually wanted to add a few more words, promising he’d come quietly and leave without a trace, never disturbing the other.

But the atmosphere now carried an inexplicable strangeness, and the words he wanted to say were all held back at the tip of his tongue.

After a moment, Dou Changxiao said, “Got it.”

Ning Zhu: “Mm.”

A crimson maple leaf drifted through the railing, its stem snugly lodging in the seam between Dou Changxiao’s backpack and jacket. He remained oblivious.

“Your backpack…” Ning Zhu pointed vaguely toward the spot with a finger.

Dou Changxiao didn’t catch the hint.

The maple leaf was hidden from his line of sight. Ning Zhu hesitated, then reached out to help remove it.

As his hand approached, Dou Changxiao’s body shifted slightly, as if instinctively wanting to dodge, but he didn’t pull away.

Dou Changxiao watched Ning Zhu’s hand sweep past his right neck without touching him, yet the muscles along his right side tensed inexplicably.

He lowered his gaze as Ning Zhu plucked the maple leaf from behind him. Withdrawing his hand, the leaf stalk spun halfway in his palm.

The leaf’s surface gently brushed the base of Dou Changxiao’s neck.

That subtle tingle seemed to seep through his skin, spreading deeper until it sent a shiver down his spine. The sensation of itching right into his bones lingered for an unexpectedly long moment.

Dou Changxiao froze in a daze.

Ning Zhu examined the leaf in his hand for a moment before lifting his gaze and noticing Dou Changxiao staring blankly at the ground.

After a short while, the other man lifted his eyes and stared at him for a moment. That pensive expression suddenly froze, as if struck by lightning.

Ning Zhu: “…”

What now? This again.

Dou Changxiao dismissed him: “Thanks. You can go.”

Ning Zhu responded with a nod, his mood slightly off as he turned toward the nearby sedan. Opening the door, he glanced back toward the school gates.

Dou Changxiao remained standing there, unmoved. Yet beneath that calm exterior, something seemed to be stirring silently, refusing to be glimpsed.

Ning Zhu felt awkward lingering under someone’s gaze any longer and started the car to leave.

The low hum of the engine quickly faded from his ears.

“…” Only after the car vanished from sight did Dou Changxiao slowly raise his hand to brush the right side of his neck. The sensation from moments ago lingered like an aftertaste.

His eyelashes fluttered slightly as he recalled his conversation with Dou Linyuan earlier that day.

—Did he threaten you?

—Not exactly.

—Is there some reason you absolutely must do it?

—No.

So I…

That Ning guy…

I feel something for that Ning guy…?

Dou Changxiao: “…”

I want to die.

Even if it’s just a tiny feeling for that Ning guy…

I want to die.

Dou Changxiao’s reaction now was nothing but shock, bewilderment, agitation, and sheer dread.

Words like freshness, joy, sweetness—all such pleasant terms had to step aside in the face of these emotions.

Like the numbing chill that ran down his spine when that maple leaf brushed past him, leaving him frozen, his body beyond his control. This sensation was utterly dreadful.

It wasn’t dislike, just profoundly wrong. His instincts screamed danger—not just about this budding emotion, but also about its source: Ning.

Feeling something he shouldn’t toward Ning Zhu was dangerous.

Dou Changxiao stood rooted to the spot for several seconds, exposed to the cold wind. His fingers curled and uncurled, nervously grasping at the air several times before he finally stepped through the school gates, his anxiety spreading to the tips of his hair.

…Ning Zhu is toxic.

He couldn’t get involved anymore!!!

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Days later, Dou Changxiao began his internship at the Third Hospital, his schedule growing increasingly demanding.

Meanwhile, Ning Zhu was far from idle.

Beyond his work, he’d recently taken in a bit of a spectacle.

During this period, the Ren family faced a minor yet significant incident: Ren Hongyuan had secured a high-ranking management position for Ren Shaokun within their family conglomerate.

Ren Shaokun had studied art-related fields. While abroad these past years, ostensibly for further studies, his painting skills clearly showed he hadn’t spent most of his time on serious pursuits.

With zero experience in corporate management, his direct parachute appointment to Ren Group’s senior leadership inevitably sparked some gossip.

Of course, such backdoor appointments weren’t exactly unheard of among the offspring of wealthy families.

The interesting twist here is that Ren Shaokun has a stepbrother two years his junior. During the period when Ren Shaokun was sent abroad by Ren Hongyuan, this younger brother spent two solid years honing his skills in various entry-level positions within the Ren Group. Only then was he promoted to middle management by Ren Hongyuan, and it took him over another year to climb to the senior leadership level.

Yet upon Ren Shaokun’s return, his position was nearly equivalent to that of his younger half-brother.

Ning Zhu had encountered Ren Hongyuan, that old fox, before. Though outwardly polite and showering Ning Zhu with praise as a “promising young talent,” he held little regard for this Omega.

While Ren Hongyuan restrained his Alpha superiority in public, his favoritism was blatantly obvious internally. Even at his sixtieth birthday banquet, only his Alpha son Ren Shaokun was permitted to attend his side, leaving his mother and son to entertain less important guests throughout the event.

Thus, even though Ren Shaokun was a dim-witted young master, Ren Hongyuan still favored him over his Omega younger brother as his heir. This man harbored a deep-seated contempt for non-Alphas, living in some animalistic world of his own, and his son had grown up to be much like him.

The inevitable outcome was dissatisfaction on both sides. Ren Shaokun, insatiable in his ambition, saw the Ren family empire as his inevitable prize. Relying on his father’s favoritism, he schemed to trample his stepmother and stepbrother underfoot as soon as possible.

As for his stepmother—Ren Hongyuan’s current wife—needless to say, she’d schemed for years. Yet after Ren Shaokun returned to China, he didn’t even break a sweat before undoing all her meticulous efforts. Naturally, she was furious.

Ning Zhu had no interest in the Ren family’s internal power struggles, but he was more than happy to sit back and enjoy the spectacle of their infighting.

Cheng Li relayed the news to him, laughing loudly over the phone: “My sister has a business partner who knows Ren Shaokun’s stepmom. She said the Ren household has been in absolute chaos these past few days, with constant uproar.”

Ning Zhu felt little emotion upon hearing this, but Cheng Li’s gleeful tone was infectious, drawing a couple of chuckles from him.

But Cheng Li’s tone plummeted like a bungee jump, followed by a sigh. “That idiot Ren Shaokun really has luck on his side. He’s got zero talent for running a company, yet his dad just can’t stop spoiling him. It was the same back in high school…”

Ning Zhu raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

He knew Cheng Li was seething on his behalf.

Back in high school, before he even knew Ren Shaokun, he’d heard plenty of stories about the guy’s misdeeds. Then one day after class, he’d walked in on Ren Shaokun bullying an Omega.

Ning Zhu spent almost every evening after class and every weekend studying in the classroom. That day, by sheer coincidence, he passed the restroom while fetching water. Hearing commotion inside, he went to investigate.

Ning Zhu never hesitated to act, regardless of the cost. He called security and a teacher who had already clocked out, grabbed a weapon, and stormed in. Fortunately, his intimidating presence proved enough, and he never needed to use the weapon.

The following Monday, Ren Shaokun publicly read a self-criticism at the flag-raising ceremony, accompanied by his gang of underlings. From that day on, his targets shifted from “randomly selecting lucky victims” to consistently targeting Ning Zhu.

“His father must share the blame for raising him like this,” Cheng Li muttered before asking, “Ning Zhu, care to predict who Ren Hongyuan will eventually hand the Ren Group over to?”

Ning Zhu twirled his pen leisurely. “It won’t be Ren Shaokun.”

“Huh? Why not…” Cheng Li was taken aback. “Ren Hongyuan’s heart’s practically in the Pacific Ocean. I thought it’d definitely go to his ‘precious little darling’.”

Ning Zhu smiled. “Just a wild guess.”

Ren Shaokun was adept at using underhanded tricks to show off his cleverness. While the business world sometimes required unconventional tactics, such approaches needed a solid foundation within the company. Given Ren Shaokun’s personality, he likely didn’t even have the patience to understand his own company’s assets and departments, let alone diligently learn the production processes and management logic at the grassroots level.

Ning Zhu suspected that Ren Hongyuan had initially intended to send Ren Shaokun to gain grassroots experience like his younger brother, but had ultimately been unable to persuade him.

Ren Hongyuan wasn’t foolish. The glaring disparity in his sons’ abilities was plain to see. Even if he harbored personal biases, he had to weigh the future of the Ren family.

Over the next week, Ning Zhu occasionally heard news about the Ren family from those around him, but it leaned more toward gossip and idle chatter, so he paid it little mind.

Before he knew it, the day of S University’s anniversary celebration arrived.

Due to a work schedule adjustment, Ning Zhu finished his morning tasks early. When he set off for S University, he arrived over an hour ahead of the time Xiao Tao had arranged.

Upon reaching the campus, he first stopped by the auditorium venue. Backstage preparations were still underway. Seizing this lull, Ning Zhu took a stroll through his former college building, visiting two professors with whom he’d once shared a good rapport.

After chatting for nearly half an hour, he left the building and headed toward the anniversary auditorium.

Walking through campus, Ning Zhu belatedly realized he was dressed far too formally. His tailored suit, sharp and crisp, stood out starkly among the brightly colored, casually dressed students. Feeling conspicuous, he avoided the main paths and slipped into the narrow alleys between buildings.

Passing the Software Engineering building, he suddenly heard cheers echoing from somewhere nearby, as if some event was underway.

Back in his student days, Ning Zhu had rarely had the chance to participate in campus activities; the times he’d merely observed them could be counted on one hand.

Glancing at his watch, he saw he still had some time to spare. After a moment’s hesitation, he strolled leisurely over to join the commotion.