The highlight of the celebration was the evening cultural performance. Most students preferred watching the gala over the more formal, by-the-book events. The opening ceremony held in the auditorium during the day was more formal, consisting entirely of speeches from start to finish—relatively dry by comparison.

After speeches by the principal, vice principal, and every other school official with some title or other, Cheng Yang in the back row began regretting his attendance, nodding off repeatedly.

Just as drowsiness overtook him, the live broadcast camera swept down the aisle toward the back seats. Someone beside him nudged him, and he instantly switched to a more alert expression.

“Ugh,” he reluctantly mustered some energy, yawning as he nudged Dou Changxiao—whom he’d persuaded to come—with his elbow. “This opening ceremony’s been going on for an hour and a half. Seriously, is it all going to be speeches like this?”

As he spoke, he glanced over at Dou Changxiao.

Ever since entering the hall, Dou Changxiao had sat silently watching the stage, his expression unchanged regardless of who was speaking.

After half an hour of monotonous speeches, students in the back rows would sneak glances at their phones when cameras weren’t rolling. Dou Changxiao, however, hadn’t shifted his posture once.

Whether he was bored or not, Cheng Yang couldn’t tell, but he certainly admired the man’s composure.

Before Dou Changxiao could speak, Fang Huaixin answered first: “Yeah, didn’t you know? The performance is tonight.”

Cheng Yang regretted his earlier words: “No wonder only the evening gala requires snagging tickets.”

After another speaker finished, the host on stage delivered a summary before transitioning to the graduate representative’s speech.

“Here he comes, Brother Ning!” The podium was far from the back row, so Cheng Yang craned his neck to see.

It must be said, good looks always carried an advantage. Ning Zhu wore an all-black suit, his exposed skin glowing dazzlingly white under the lights. At 5’9″, he was tall even among Omegas, with a body proportion so exaggeratedly good that the first thing you noticed were the two straight, long legs peeking out from under his suit pants—truly eye-catching.

As he approached the podium and adjusted the microphone, most of the sleepyheads in the front rows instantly perked up.

Ning Zhu wasn’t the intimidating type. At formal events, he usually adopted a composed, aloof demeanor, putting on airs. Not this time.

After taking the stage, he first offered a slight smile to the younger students below, launching into his topic with the most ordinary opening remarks.

His speech was unexpectedly simple and sincere. It contained neither pretentious advice nor excessive motivation. Instead, he gently shared two experiences from his early entrepreneurial days, pointing out potential obstacles these younger students might face.

It felt as though he had combed through every fiber of his being beforehand, carefully selecting one or two pieces of experience he believed could best assist these young people. The sincerity in his speech was palpable to everyone.

Even Cheng Yang, whose mouth never seemed to rest, fell quiet and listened intently. Only when the speech shifted into the customary well-wishing segment did he drift off, glancing around to find the two people beside him still completely absorbed in the front.

Fang Huaixin was one thing, Cheng Yang knew Ning Zhu was practically a glowing idol to him. Standing before Fang Huaixin, Ning Zhu could have been giving a speech—or even lying asleep on stage—and it would still be worth watching.

Cheng Yang glanced at Dou Changxiao. The other man maintained his impassive expression, but midway through, he suddenly lowered his head to touch his bracelet. As if he’d suddenly remembered to check whether the barrier function was activated.

Seeming to be listening rather half-heartedly, Cheng Yang called out to him.

Dou Changxiao heard him, turned, and gave him a faint glance. Before Cheng Yang could speak again, his gaze shifted back.

As if listening to him was a waste of time.

Cheng Yang: “…”

Was what I said less meaningful than that blessing?

He looked around in self-doubt, then spotted other normal people nearby. Instantly relaxed, he slumped back in his chair and mentally labeled Dou Changxiao as “abnormal.”

The opening ceremony ended an hour later.

Ning Zhu lingered a few extra minutes chatting with several teachers nearby, leaving somewhat later than the others.

Most students had already dispersed from the auditorium. He made his way out from the front rows, exiting the hall and heading toward the building’s exterior.

Every winter, S University’s first task was to drape thick curtains over every building’s entrance. The designs were bulky and plain, like wrapping the buildings in dowdy garments. Ugly they were, but they blocked the wind and kept out the cold—practical above all.

Ning Zhu pushed aside the heavy curtain and took a few steps outside when he heard someone call out behind him, “Brother Ning!”

He turned around and sure enough, saw Cheng Yang and Fang Huaixin.

Cheng Yang knew Ning Zhu must be busy, so he just waved enthusiastically without saying much, worried about delaying Ning Zhu’s work.

But Ning Zhu didn’t have a tight schedule today. He walked over to chat with them: “Did you two come together?”

Cheng Yang: “Yeah, we’re sitting in the back row.”

“Listening to all that clichéd stuff we’re spouting up here must be pretty boring…”

Before he could finish, the curtain was lifted again, and warm air from inside the building swept out. Alpha held the curtain with one hand, his head slightly bowed as he stepped out.

Walking at a leisurely pace to catch up with the two ahead, Dou Changxiao lifted his eyes and unexpectedly met Ning Zhu’s gaze.

“…”

Ning Zhu also paused, his voice lagging half a second before he continued.

An eerie awkwardness spread through the air. Dou Changxiao stopped in place, neither moving forward nor speaking, turning his face away to wait for them to finish talking.

Ning Zhu maintained a relatively calm surface, continuing to smile and chat with Cheng Yang.

The space was so cramped that he had to exert considerable effort to keep his gaze fixed squarely on Cheng Yang, avoiding any drift toward Dou Changxiao behind him.

Cheng Yang, feeling the intense stare, broke out in a cold sweat. Unable to discern the reason, he could only swallow nervously, quiet as a mouse, inwardly marveling at the formidable presence of the big boss.

Ning Zhu subtly expedited the conversation to its conclusion.

Before leaving, he bid farewell to the two in front, casting a swift glance at Dou Changxiao. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to greet him, not wanting to add to the other’s discomfort.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Back at Qisheng, Ning Zhu had barely entered his office when Ji Chi knocked and entered, presenting two project proposals submitted by different departments.

Ning Zhu slowly flipped through several pages, his brow gradually furrowing. Closing one, he turned to examine the other.

Observing his reaction, Ji Chi remarked, “Objectively speaking, both proposals are competent. However…”

“But they fall short of what it takes to secure the Lu Group deal,” Ning Zhuo calmly interjected.

Ji Chi tapped the desk lightly with his knuckles. “While this project involves collaborating with Lu Group, it’s ultimately just a small order. Might we be overcomplicating things for such a modest return?”

Several months prior, a complete leadership transition had occurred at Haicheng’s Lu Group. Shortly after taking office, the new CEO approached Qisheng with a cooperation proposal. Given Lu Group’s immense scale, Ji Chi had initially believed this partnership would elevate Qisheng to a higher tier. Yet the actual project turned out to be merely a modest-sized order.

Ning Zhu shook his head. “They’re not just partnering with us. Several other medium-to-large enterprises in North City that compete with us have also received olive branches from the Lu Group. Previously, the Lu Group and the Ren Group had been long-term partners without any such moves. I suspect the newly appointed CEO intends to halt cooperation with the Ren Group. Seizing this opportunity could be a significant breakthrough.”

“It’s just a guess, but success would mean leveraging our small size for big gains. Failure would only mean slightly higher costs.” Ning Zhu set down the proposal. “I’ll personally oversee this project.”

Ning Zhu sent messages to the general managers of several departments, summoning them to the conference room in ten minutes to revise the project proposal.

As he stood to leave, darkness suddenly engulfed his vision. His steps faltered, and he immediately grabbed the desk to steady himself.

Ji Chi instinctively reached out to support him, but withdrew his hand once Ning Zhu regained his footing. Noticing the dazed look on Ning Zhu’s face, he frowned. “Low blood sugar?”

That dizziness felt somewhat like a hypoglycemic reaction, but it lasted only a fleeting moment before he quickly recovered. Ning Zhuo touched the skin at the back of his neck, sensing a faint swelling at the gland’s location.

He calculated that his last heat period had ended just a month ago.

Ji Chi asked, “What did the doctor say when you fainted last time?”

Ning Zhu hesitated for two seconds.

Ji Chi pressed, “Is it about your glands…”

Ning Zhu lifted his eyes to meet his gaze.

Ji Chi paused, then explained, “When Xia Xun was checking the compatibility database earlier, I happened to catch him once.”

Xia Xun was the secretary who had been searching for a match source for Ning Zhu.

“You seemed particularly short on money during your school days. That always struck me as odd. Our school offered substantial scholarships to top students—tens of thousands annually. That’s a hefty sum for a high schooler, yet you still hunted for part-time gigs on weekends. “ Ji Chi explained methodically.

”That guy Cheng Li had no concept of money, assuming your family faced some hardship. Yet at every parent-teacher conference, your seat remained… empty. For a single student, the scholarship should have fully covered all school expenses.”

Ning Zhu remained silent.

“And that time in senior year when you ended up in the hospital…” Ji Chi glanced at him. “What’s the current situation? Is there still a chance for treatment?”

“With the suppressants, I think I can hold on a while longer. It really depends on whether the matching database yields results. While highly compatible Alphas are hard to find, we haven’t gone years without encountering any,” Ning Zhu said. “I feel like my luck has been pretty good lately.”

He skirted the seriousness of it, but Ji Chi sensed the situation wasn’t optimistic. Worried that Ning Zhu wouldn’t handle the high-intensity work, he was about to suggest Ning Zhu take some time off when the latter read his intention and shot him a dismissive look.

Ji Chi had no choice but to drop the subject. After a moment’s thought, he said, “I should be able to help with the matching source.”

“Thanks. I’ll have Xia Xun send you the materials later.” Ning Zhu reminded him, “Oh, and don’t tell Cheng Li about this. He’d probably make a huge fuss and cry to the heavens.”

“Understood. Focus on the Lu Corporation collaboration these days. I’ll take over the other projects.”

Ning Zhu accepted without hesitation.