Autumn deepened, burying the Beijing University campus under a splendid layer of brilliant gold. Inside the Life Sciences laboratory, the heating had been turned on exceptionally early. Within the dry, warm air, the scents of fir and oranges had blended together perfectly, giving rise to a settled, domestic sense of security.
Lately, Hunter Huo had been living what could only be described as a "heavenly life."
The data from the first stage of the project was stunningly beautiful, and the rumors throughout the department had shifted from initial shock to good-natured teasing. Silas Shen grew increasingly indulgent toward him, even giving tacit permission for a black gaming console to occupy a corner of that office otherwise packed with precision instruments and obscure literature.
By all accounts, Hunter should have been the happiest top-tier Alpha in the entire university—if not the entire city. He possessed the official status he craved most, commanded the entirety of Professor Shen's patience, and had even won the "nesting rights" to this ascetic laboratory.
Yet recently, he had developed a new trouble that left him restless and fidgety.
Late that night, the lights inside Silas's apartment were soft and mellow.
Silas sat at one end of the sofa, his legs draped in a softly textured cashmere blanket, holding a thick, yellowed volume of an original professional text. The rimless lenses on the bridge of his nose reflected a subtle gleam of wisdom. Hunter, meanwhile, looked like a large golden retriever that had been completely stripped of its bones. He lay sprawled across the other end of the sofa, his face buried deep into an embroidered throw pillow, letting out a heavy, muffled sigh after a long silence.
"Professor..."
Silas's fingers turning the page paused marginally. He didn't even lift his eyelids. "The latte is in the kitchen, the warm water is on the table, and the confiscated gaming console won't be returned to you until next Monday."
"I'm not acting like this because of that!" Hunter flipped over abruptly, the movement so large the sofa shuddered along with him. Cushioning his arms behind his head, he stared blankly at the minimalist chandelier on the ceiling, his face a picture of melancholy. "Don't you think... the way we are living right now is a little too ordinary?"
Silas finally spared a sliver of attention from his book, arching a single, elegant eyebrow. "Ordinary? What do you mean?"
"It's just..." Hunter turned his face, his eyes locking onto Silas with a burning intensity, his tone carrying a hint of self-doubt over why he, a top-tier Alpha, was living such a law-abiding life. "Look at those emotional threads about Alphas and Omegas on the school forum—which one of them isn't earth-shattering? When other Alphas pursue an Omega, it involves at least a massive pheromone war, a courtyard packed with luxury cars, or some thrilling 'you flee, he chases, you can't escape' hero-saves-the-beauty type of marking battle. It's wildly dramatic. But look at the two of us—"
Hunter counted off on his fingers, his expression growing more distressed by the second. "I wash test tubes every day in the lab while you run experiments. I peel oranges for you, and you edit my papers. In the morning we stand in line to buy soup dumplings, and at night we come home to sit on the sofa. Professor, don't you think our life feels a bit too... like an old married couple?"
Silas closed his book, took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his somewhat fatigued nose. He turned his head to look at Hunter, his tone holding the helplessness of an elder listening to a child throw a tantrum. "So, you want something thrilling and earth-shattering?"
"No, no, no!" Terrified, Hunter scrambled to a sitting position, clumsily edging closer to explain himself. "How could I dare! I'm just afraid... afraid you'll find me boring. Your past life was so pure, so high-end. What if one day you feel that living with a puppy who can only wash test tubes and peel oranges is completely meaningless, and you want to pursue some fresh excitement—"
The youth's voice grew smaller and smaller, a trace of insecurity born from pricing something as utterly priceless flickering deep within his eyes.
Outside the window, the Beijing evening wind swept through the fallen leaves, creating a crisp rustling sound. Yet the interior remained profoundly quiet.
Silas looked at him—looked at this youth who was so flamboyant and high-spirited on the court, so dazzlingly talented within the research team, yet who permanently resembled a child begging for candy whenever he was before him.
Silas didn't speak. Instead, he set down his blanket, stood up, and walked slowly over to Hunter under the youth's tense gaze.
Hunter kept his head tilted upward, his heart skipping a beat entirely in that instant.
Silas leaned down slightly.
As the distance closed, that exceptionally faint, crisp aroma of fir instantly enveloped Hunter. Silas extended a hand, his fingertips gently brushing away the slightly messy blonde hair on the youth's forehead before pressing an exceptionally light, soft, yet immensely solemn kiss right onto that smooth brow.
The touch was gone in a flash, yet it acted like a cluster of sparks, instantly setting Hunter's barren wasteland ablaze.
"Hunter Huo," Silas straightened up against the light, the shadows of the lamps shattering into a field of tender starlight within his clear pupils. "The thrilling drama you speak of is mostly accompanied by calculation and insecurity."
He paused, his voice as smooth and gentle as jade. "I have no need for those things. What I need is for someone to bring me a steamer of piping-hot soup dumplings when I wake up every morning. What I need is for someone to peel a sweet, crisp orange beside me during a monotonous experiment. What I need is to be able to fall asleep to the sound of a specific person's breathing when I'm suffering from insomnia brought on by data anxiety."
Looking at Hunter's dumbfounded expression, the corners of his mouth tilted upward into an arc sufficient to melt all his cold detachment into profound tenderness. "These seemingly ordinary, small things—only an incredibly, incredibly silly puppy in this entire world can achieve them. And to me, that is already the greatest thrill."
Hunter stared at him, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. He felt as though he had been stuffed entirely into a massive jar of honey—so sweet it was dizzying, yet so warm it made him want to shed tears.
"Therefore—" Silas put his glasses back on, his expression switching back to that of a rigorous professor within a single second as he turned to walk back to the sofa. "Stop thinking about those nonsensical things and write up today's experimental logs. The data needs to be uploaded tomorrow morning at eight."
Hunter sat on the sofa like a frozen statue for a full ten seconds before his brain restarted its operations.
The next second, he leapt up abruptly, his voice loud enough to shatter the ceiling. "Professor! Silas Shen! Were you comforting me just now? You were absolutely comforting me!"
Without lifting his head, Silas opened his book. "I wasn't."
"You definitely were! Professor Shen just admitted himself that I am irreplaceable, and he even took the initiative to kiss this puppy! I'm going to write this down—I'm declaring today 'The Anniversary of Silas Shen Comforting Me'!"
"...Hunter Huo, if you don't turn on your computer right now to write those logs, there won't be a next time for anything."
"I'm going, I'm going! I'm going right now!"