ABMSI Chapter 10

“I’ve got it.”

A spark of excitement flashed between Duan Wei’s brows. Without another word, he snatched the phone from Peng Yan’s hand.

The screen hadn’t gone dark yet. It still displayed a message from that Omega. The interface looked fresh, decorated with little floral patterns, giving off a clean and artistic vibe.

The app was called At This Moment. It had all sorts of matching methods, each user’s name appearing as a tiny glowing dot on the match page, like a sea of stars shimmering in the night.

“How does this thing work?” Duan Wei studied it for a while before asking Peng Yan.

“Just tap anywhere, that’s all.”

Peng Yan clicked into the homepage. Voice chat, video chat, message-in-a-bottle… with just a casual tap, you could be matched with someone to chat with.

Duan Wei looked thoughtful as the idea slowly took shape in his mind. He was planning to set up the male and female leads in two ways: the first, the simplest and most straightforward—let Xu Jianian show Fu Duqiu care and attention in real life, bit by bit breaking down that cold, unfeeling heart of his, fulfilling him from the outside.

But based on these past few days of observation and Duan Wei’s memory of the original story, Fu Duqiu wasn’t someone who easily voiced his feelings or thoughts. So a Plan B was born.

Use a virtual app to connect with Fu Duqiu’s inner world—fulfillment from the inside. Then, when the time was right, the two would meet in person, only to discover that the person they’d been chatting with all along was actually their classmate…

It was simply a perfect and romantic plan.

“Can this thing search on its own?” Duan Wei pointed at the screen.

“Nope, only random matches.” Peng Yan gave him a puzzled look. “What’s up, Duan-ge, planning to find yourself a date?”

As he said this, Peng Yan’s eyes instinctively flicked past Duan Wei’s shoulder. Duan Wei followed his gaze—at some point, Fu Duqiu had already returned. He wasn’t seated yet, just standing there behind them.

Fu Duqiu was tall to begin with. Now, looking down at the seated Duan Wei and Peng Yan, he had the aura of someone in a high position looking down from above.

Because of the help he got during his rut, Peng Yan had felt a flicker of goodwill toward this Alpha. But after the series of events that followed, that tiny shred of good impression had completely vanished. Seeing Fu Duqiu approach now, he didn’t bother being polite and directly glared back.

Fu Duqiu showed no reaction. He merely cast a faint glance at Duan Wei before sitting down in his seat.

Not long after he sat down, the class bell rang. Naturally, Duan Wei didn’t continue the conversation. He waved it off and began plotting in his head again.

The dating app only worked through random matches. Whether Fu Duqiu even used it was uncertain. Even if he did, matching with him was like a lottery—pure luck.

Not reliable.

But… he didn’t necessarily have to use a dating app. There was an even simpler, more straightforward method—

WeChat.

“When I went away, the willows swayed gently;
Now I return, the snow falls thick and heavy.
The road is long—my body wearied with hunger and thirst.
My heart is sorrowful—yet who will know my grief?”

On the podium, Old Qin was reciting with his usual singsong sway. Under the desk, Duan Wei cautiously pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the class group for a long while before finally finding Fu Duqiu’s ID.

Fu Duqiu’s WeChat was as dull as he was. His profile picture was a full moon in a pitch-black sky. His nickname was simply a capital “Q” followed by a small dot.

Duan Wei lingered on the page for a moment, then copied Fu Duqiu’s ID, logged out, and registered a new account.

Next, he found a sultry beauty’s photo online and was just about to set it as his avatar when his thumb suddenly froze above the Confirm button. Almost involuntarily, he glanced at Fu Duqiu beside him.

Fu Duqiu held a jet-black pen, jotting things down in his notebook from time to time, focused and serious.

He wore the new school uniform today. Like Duan Wei, he had put it on over his winter coat. But while Duan Wei looked bulky, Fu Duqiu didn’t appear the least bit clumsy. The black-and-white uniform suited his aura—or perhaps it was simply that Fu Duqiu’s build and presence could carry off any color or style.

The warm winter sunlight filtered through his hair. His dark eyes shifted between the blackboard and his notebook. With each downward glance, his lashes moved, leading down to his straight nose, his lips…

Duan Wei only looked for a moment before deciding: Fu Duqiu didn’t seem like the type to like fiery, glamorous women.

So he searched again and finally settled on a landscape picture, similar to Fu Duqiu’s style, as his avatar.

After setting everything up, just as he was about to type in the account ID, he suddenly felt a gaze on him. He looked up—and met Old Qin’s eyes from the podium.

He was done for.

“Come, Duan Wei,” Old Qin set the book down on the desk, smiling. “Translate this poem for us.”

Duan Wei shoved his phone into the desk and stood up guiltily, glancing at the title on the PPT: “Gathering Vetch” (Cai Wei).

He had studied this poem before—he remembered it vaguely.

But the further he read, the more he realized there were characters he couldn’t even pronounce anymore.

High school felt like a distant memory to him. He tried to translate, but by the last two lines, he was completely stuck. After hesitating a moment, he reached under the desk and subtly tugged at Fu Duqiu’s sleeve.

Feeling the movement, Fu Duqiu didn’t so much as blink, still staring at the blackboard. In a voice just loud enough for Duan Wei to hear, he said:
“I wasn’t listening either.”

“…” Duan Wei was speechless.

Then what the hell were you scribbling in your notebook just now??

“Uh… gathering vetch, gathering vetch, the vetch suddenly just… stops… it says going home, going home, but even next year still not going home…”

Duan Wei stumbled his way through a clumsy translation. Stifled laughter rippled through the classroom; even Xu Jianian couldn’t resist turning around to cover her mouth.

After finishing, Duan Wei lowered his head to glance at Fu Duqiu. He couldn’t actually see the other’s face from his angle, but instinct told him Fu Duqiu must be laughing too.

Old Qin’s brows knitted instantly. He motioned for Duan Wei to sit down, then turned with a smile to the person beside him.
“Come, you translate.”

The moment he sat back down, Duan Wei eagerly waited to watch Fu Duqiu make a fool of himself.

But instead, Fu Duqiu stood up, eyes straight ahead. After only the briefest pause, he began reciting the translation. Duan Wei didn’t know if it was word-for-word accurate, but judging from Old Qin’s expression, it was spot-on. A few Omegas in the class even blushed.

When Fu Duqiu sat back down, Duan Wei’s eyes widened.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t listening?”

“Mm.” Fu Duqiu glanced at him, then let his gaze drop to the phone hidden in Duan Wei’s desk. His tone was flat.

“Then how did you know it?”

The moment Duan Wei asked, he regretted it. Some instinct warned him he was about to get schooled again.

Sure enough, Fu Duqiu gave him a look full of ‘How do you not get this?’ and said matter-of-factly:
“Because while you were answering, I’d already figured it out.”

“…”

Duan Wei drew a deep breath, practically grinding his teeth as he turned back around. He pulled out his phone again, feeling more wronged than ever. Not only did he have to endure Fu Duqiu, he also had to flirt with him.

He thought the novel’s original setting had been dead right: people like Fu Duqiu—cold-blooded and insufferably arrogant—were destined to grow old alone.

Grow old alone.

The phrase stuck in his mind. His thumb hovered over the screen, then paused. On a whim, he changed his profile picture to a frog.

And then, he sent the friend request.

He’d assumed someone like Fu Duqiu—the model student—would only have had his phone yesterday because it was the first day of school. But no sooner had Duan Wei hit send than Fu Duqiu’s backpack gave a faint double-vibration.

Well, well. So he didn’t help yesterday, and today he’s smuggling his phone in class.

Fu Duqiu’s hand with the pen stilled. Then he turned slightly, pulled his phone from his bag, and unlocked it under the desk.

A few red notification dots lit up in his chat list—messages from Ye Qiong.

Though Ye Qiong was an Omega, years of raising Fu Duqiu alone had turned her into a sharp, capable career woman. Even when messaging her own son, her tone stayed strictly business.

[Next month’s living expenses have been transferred. Check your card. Call me if there’s an issue.]

[The books and clothes you left at home have been shipped. Keep your phone on.]

The final message, sent just minutes ago, read:
[The wedding is set for New Year’s. Xiao Qiu, I hope you can come.]

It was one of those rare, tender messages—but to Fu Duqiu, it stung more than anything. He stared at the simple words for a long time before typing a reply:
[Okay.]

Exiting the chat, he was about to lock the screen when he noticed a new red dot in his contacts—a pending friend request.

He paused. The avatar was a frog with a flat mouth. His thumb instinctively moved to reject, but slipped—and hit Accept instead.

Almost immediately, the phone buzzed a few more times. Returning to the chat screen, he saw the frog leap to the very top.

[Hello, I’m the Christmas Frog your friend ordered.]

[If there’s no objection, I’m going to croak now!]

[Lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely.]

“…”