ABMSI Chapter 9

Duan Wei froze for a moment as he watched Fu Duqiu’s back fading into the distance, then followed after him.

There was a not-too-far, not-too-close distance between the two of them. Cars roared by on the street, and rows of black-tiled, white-walled houses stretched endlessly. Duan Wei’s home wasn’t far from No.1 High School, but this whole area was such a maze that an outsider would easily get lost.

Yet Fu Duqiu walked ahead with practiced ease, weaving through one alley after another. The most coincidental part? His route home was exactly the same as Duan Wei’s.

Duan Wei suddenly recalled the enrollment file he’d once glimpsed on Old Qin’s desk. Clear as day, the words “Wutong Lane” had been written there.

Wutong Lane was just one street away from Duan Wei’s house, so naturally, it made sense that their way home would overlap.

Not long after, he saw Fu Duqiu turn onto another road. That entire street was dim, barely lit at all. Though the houses looked affluent, the silence carried a sense of desolation.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Duan Wei stopped where he was. Hiding himself behind a thick old tree, he watched Fu Duqiu walk alone toward Wutong Lane and stop before a large mansion.

And “mansion” was no exaggeration—it was visibly taller and grander than the houses around it. One didn’t need to step inside to imagine how spacious it must be. But the whole place was pitch dark, as if it hadn’t been lived in for a long time.

Fu Duqiu stood at the door for a long while, staring at the ornate pattern carved into the doorknob. Only then did he take out a ring of keys and unlock the door.

With a heavy bang, the gate closed behind him. The sound snapped Duan Wei out of his daze. He scratched his head, muttered to himself for a bit, and finally turned down another alley to head home.

What awaited him there, of course, was chaos. After his parents heard about what had happened at school, their fury was explosive. They confiscated all his phones, leaving him only an ancient brick of a device that stuttered like a PowerPoint slideshow just to play a video.

Later that night, a sudden power outage hit the neighborhood, and only then was Duan Wei “pardoned.”

Sitting at his desk in the dark, he fumbled with the old phone, slid his SIM card inside, and held the power button down. The device lagged for ages, then a pair of disembodied hands slid across the screen from either side, and the all-too-familiar startup jingle played.

Of course—it was a Nokia.

Duan Wei silently cursed Fu Duqiu up and down all over again.

The next morning, he was forced out of bed early. From the washroom all the way to the walk to school, his mother, Qiao Ying, never stopped chattering in his ear.

She was a nutritionist, had even appeared on TV and published books back in the day. When she launched into a lecture, it was endless—one sentence could bloom into a dozen, looping over and over without pause.

And so, with his backpack slung over his shoulders and, by his mother’s divine decree, his school uniform worn over a thick cotton coat, Duan Wei trudged along. The uniform fit him just fine in autumn, but pulled over a bulky coat, it puffed up so much he looked ready to wrestle.

Duan Wei felt like a sumo wrestler.

Ten minutes still remained before students were required to arrive. The “sumo wrestler,” face dark with annoyance, followed Qiao Ying through the school gate. The director at the entrance stared in surprise, while a few nearby classmates exchanged gleeful, mocking glances.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, Duan Wei wandered through campus. With just a slight turn of his head, he caught sight of Fu Duqiu walking behind him.

Fu Duqiu’s expression was faint, with dark circles under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept well.

The moment he stepped through the school gates, he drew countless stares. Early in the morning, seeing the school tyrant Duan Wei standing side by side with the new campus star—what a sight that was.

Of course, others also sensed the faint gunpowder lingering between the two.

“Come on, let’s go, the teacher’s waiting inside,” Qiao Ying urged.

At that, Duan Wei reluctantly tore his gaze away and followed his mother into the humanities building.

What surprised him, though, was that Old Tong—who’d been out for blood yesterday—never mentioned the missing phone again. Instead, he limited himself to a stern lecture about bringing electronics onto school grounds.

Since Duan Wei had indeed been at fault, he kept his head down and obediently took the scolding. Qiao Ying, meanwhile, smiled and agreed with every word, occasionally throwing sharp glares at her son.

Morning self-study passed quickly. After leaving the office, Qiao Ying picked up where she’d left off, nagging nonstop: “Did you hear what the teacher told you? Your grades are already terrible, yet all you ever do is play around. Do you really want to end up hauling bricks at a construction site before you’ll straighten up?”

“I heard, I heard,” Duan Wei muttered, lowering his head to face his much shorter mother. Then he added, “And what’s wrong with hauling bricks? That’s earning money with your hands—hard work, honest wealth.”

“You still dare to talk back?!” Qiao Ying snapped, pointing at him.

“…” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Mr. Qin said he’s specially arranged for a top student to sit next to you. You’d better learn something from him, understand?” Qiao Ying shoved her hands into her pockets, frowning.

The spot where they were standing happened to be the exact place where Duan Wei had seen the new transfer, Fu Duqiu, sitting in the classroom the day before. So when he turned his head slightly, his eyes met Fu Duqiu’s once again.

It wasn’t clear how long Fu Duqiu had been watching. His face looked a little better than it had that morning, but still pale and indifferent. When their gazes locked, he showed no embarrassment at being caught, merely drew his eyes back and fixed them on the English textbook on his desk.

The classmates around him were reviewing their lessons. He sat perfectly still.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t studying—he already knew it all.

Show-off.

Duan Wei rolled his eyes inwardly, but aloud he replied, “Got it.”

Satisfied at his compliance, Qiao Ying finally let her anger subside. She gave him one last sidelong glance before reaching into her bag for her wallet.

“Do you still have pocket money left?” she asked.

Without waiting for Duan Wei to answer, Qiao Ying pulled a few bills from her wallet and handed them over. It wasn’t much—she was afraid if she gave him too much, he’d only get into more trouble with it.

Duan Wei looked down at the money and suddenly smiled. Though he hadn’t been in this world long, Qiao Ying always treated him with the intimacy of a true mother and son.

He accepted the bills, bent down, and quickly pecked her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You rascal.” Her words said one thing, but her face was all smiles. Glancing at her watch, she added, “I’ll get going. Don’t cause any more trouble, understand?”

Duan Wei agreed several times in quick succession and walked her down the hall.

By the time he returned, morning self-study was just ending. A few students drifted past in the corridor. Sitting back at his desk, he noticed Fu Duqiu was nowhere to be seen. Pulling out his brick of a phone, he connected to the internet.

It couldn’t stream videos or run games, but simple chatting was still possible. As soon as he opened WeChat, he saw that No. 1 High’s “confession wall” had just posted something new to its Moments.

Several photos stitched together, all featuring the same person:

“Looking for this guy’s contact info [see images].”

“Confession Wall, I want to confess to the Alpha who transferred yesterday! Even if you don’t know my name yet, someday I’ll win you over!”

“Good morning, Confession Wall! Today I saw a super handsome guy—it’s the one who walked into school right after Senior Duan Wei. Duan Wei’s a little shorter than him. I urgently need his phone number orz.”

Duan Wei scrolled down fast, his breathing growing unsteady.

What do you mean he’s shorter, Fu Duqiu’s taller? Since when do you need a reference object to find someone? And of all the people at the school gate this morning, why use him as the measuring stick?!

Fu Duqiu’s transfer had kicked off a whole butterfly effect. It wasn’t just the confession wall—Tieba, Weibo, QQ groups, all were flooded with his face. Even neighboring schools had already gotten hold of his candid photos.

Small-town folks really hadn’t seen much of the world.

Duan Wei shoved the phone back into his bag. Not that he was jealous or anything.

But ever since yesterday, he couldn’t shake off a woozy feeling. Even after sleeping the whole afternoon, he still didn’t feel right. On top of that, the back of his neck itched, and when the cold wind hit, instead of feeling chilled, he felt oddly hot and restless.

Weird.

Still, Duan Wei’s philosophy was: if it’s something small, ignore it and only go to the doctor when it escalates. This minor stuff wasn’t worth his attention. He finished copying yesterday’s homework, then slumped across his desk, bored, staring absentmindedly in Xu Jianian’s direction.

It was already Fu Duqiu’s second day at No. 1 High, and the male and female leads’ relationship hadn’t budged an inch. If Duan Wei didn’t take action soon, winter break would be here.

Just then, Peng Yan—sitting in front—turned around. Things had been tense lately, so even when he pulled out his phone, he did it sneakily. He leaned toward Duan Wei and said, “Brother Duan, what do you think of this chick?”

For teenagers, the ways to fall in love were limited. Apart from a whirlwind campus romance, the other option was online dating.

And lately, Peng Yan had become a devoted follower of online dating. He was always glued to his phone, grinning to himself, dripping with adolescent hormones.

Duan Wei glanced casually at the screen. This world’s dating apps weren’t all that different from reality, except everyone’s profile listed their ABO gender and the scent of their pheromones.

The girl on Peng Yan’s screen had written: Omega, matcha flavor.

“Not bad,” Duan Wei said offhandedly after skimming her profile, then looked away, going back to plotting how to tie the male and female leads’ red string of fate.

Peng Yan, meanwhile, went right back to his online chatting. The constant ding-dong, ding-dong of notifications buzzed around Duan Wei’s head.

Suddenly, the listless Duan Wei sat bolt upright, startling Peng Yan so much he nearly dropped his phone.

Then he saw his “Brother Duan” grinning with an oddly sinister expression.

“I’ve got it,” Duan Wei said.