At the Beijing International Airport, sunlight poured unrestrained through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the terminal. The morning rays spilled across the earth, bathing the silver wings of ascending and descending aircraft in a brilliant, shifting luster.
Silas Shen was dressed today in a minimalist, deep-grey cashmere cardigan paired with a crisp, pressed white shirt. His collar was fastened meticulously, the top button closed tight against his throat. Pulling a silver suitcase, he moved through the bustling crowds with a steady gait, radiating a frigid "do not disturb" aura. Because the aftershocks of that recent accidental marking had not yet fully dissipated, a faint, bitter scent of cold fir drifted around him—a scent he habitually used to suppress his natural instincts with cold restraint.
He came to a halt at Gate J12 and checked his watch. Boarding was in twenty minutes, yet there was no sign of Assistant Lin, who had promised to meet him here ahead of time.
Silas frowned slightly. Just as he was about to pull out his phone to dial the number, a dazzling figure caught the corner of his eye.
Standing near a row of terminal seats was a young man dressed in a simple white T-shirt and light blue jeans, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. He was strikingly tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The sunlight filtering through the glass hit his slightly messy hair, making him look like a protagonist who had just stepped out of a youth film—clean, burning with heat, and vibrantly alive.
As if sensing Silas's gaze, the figure turned, revealing a face handsome enough to make every passing girl look back twice.
"Professor Shen, what a coincidence."
Hunter Huo grinned, flashing a row of white teeth. His dark eyes, usually sharp and aggressive, curved into crescents, making him look exactly like a large Golden Retriever wagging its tail in the sun. Carrying a black backpack, he strode toward Silas, bringing with him a refreshing breeze—a breeze that, unfortunately, was saturated with the spicy yet sweet scent of sun-drenched oranges, the very aroma Silas had been haunted by for days (though he would never admit it).
Silas's fingers tightened around his ticket. A flicker of blatant shock crossed his frigid eyes.
"Hunter Huo?" Silas's voice remained calm, but his tempo was a half-beat slower than usual. "What are you doing here?"
"Catching a flight," Hunter replied, stopping in front of him. Taking advantage of his height, he leaned down slightly to meet Silas's eyes at a level plane, his tone carrying a hint of innocent mischief. "Professor, my brother doesn't own this airport. My being here shouldn't be a violation of any rules, right?"
Silas stared at him for three seconds, his frown deepening as his mind rapidly processed the logic of the situation. "Did Xiao Lin ask you to come?"
"Assistant Lin..." Hunter dragged out the syllables, feigning a sigh of regret as he pulled a neatly folded conference invitation and a temporary assistant ID with his photo on it from his pocket. "He had a sudden family emergency and was truly at his wit's end. He was worried that finding a temporary outsider would delay your official business, so he begged me—the 'most hardworking employee' in the lab—to save the day. Look, Professor: the paperwork is all here, and the Dean gave his special approval."
Silas took the ID. The name Hunter Huo was written in a bold, flamboyant script, every stroke radiating an arrogance that screamed "victory."
He didn't believe in such a "coincidental" rescue for a second. While Xiao Lin could be scatterbrained, he had always possessed a deep reverence for his work. Unless... he had been coerced, bribed, or a certain calculating "puppy" had caught him by the throat with some kind of leverage.
"Student Huo," Silas closed the ID, his voice as thin as a layer of ice as he tried to reclaim the last of his dignity as a mentor. "I recall you have group projects due this week for two of your major courses."
"Done already." Hunter took a small step forward, a distance that subtly intruded upon Silas's accustomed social safety zone. He lowered his head, his gaze grazing Silas's nape—which was hidden securely behind the high collar—and his voice dropped into a magnetic, low chuckle. "I won't claim they're perfect, but I definitely won't embarrass you. Professor, for the rest of the trip... please take care of me?"
Silas fell silent.
He looked at the beaming youth before him and realized that for the next three days, they would be in a foreign city together. A sense of foreboding grew in his heart like wild weeds. But the tickets were booked and the conference was imminent; it was far too late to find a replacement.
More importantly, because of that temporary marking, the hidden Omega instincts deep within his body let out a shameful sigh of relief the moment he inhaled that orange scent.
"...Let's go."
Silas didn't say yes or no. He simply turned away with a hint of flustered haste, pulling his suitcase toward the gate. He walked fast, as if he were being pursued by some predatory beast.
Hunter watched that slender, haughty back—a back that looked like it was fleeing in retreat—and his obedient expression instantly cracked into a wicked smirk. He raised his right hand behind Silas's back and flashed a childish "V" for victory, even silently pumping his fist and jumping twice in place.
Haicheng. Sun. Sand. And an academic conference with only the two of them.
Hunter took a deep breath. The lingering scent of cold fir in the air filled him with an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. He quickly caught up, intentionally walking close enough to brush shoulders as they joined the line.
"Professor, give me the suitcase. I'm stronger."
"No need."
"Oh, come on. Assistant Lin gave me strict orders. I'm your private assistant; I have to provide full service. If you get exhausted, he'll dock my internship points when we get back to school."
Hunter didn't wait for an answer. He snatched the handle from Silas's grip, his fingertips intentionally grazing Silas's cool palm during the exchange. For a split second, Silas withdrew his hand as if burned, turning to glare at him.
The glare lacked any real intimidation. Instead, because of the faint pink flush at the corners of his eyes from walking too fast, it looked exceptionally... inviting.
Hunter's Adam's apple bobbed. The "mad wolf" in his heart was violently thrashing against the cage of "reason." On the surface, however, he smiled even more brightly, like the most considerate student in the world.
"Professor Shen, it's still summer in Haicheng. I checked the forecast; it rains a lot there. You didn't bring an umbrella, did you? Don't worry, I've got one in my bag."
Listening to his incessant chatter, Silas felt an unprecedented sense of powerlessness. In the academic world, he could solve the most complex gene sequences, but in front of Hunter Huo, he found all his defense mechanisms failing.
This puppy was using a "slow-boil" method to gradually erode the boundaries of his life.
The boarding announcement rang out. Silas took a deep breath and stepped onto the jet bridge. He had no idea that within the cramped cabin of the plane, even more "little schemes" were waiting for him.