ABMSI Chapter 80

“Consider that my thank-you.”

Duan Wei shuddered from head to toe. Every instinct in his Omega body screamed run, yet he stayed perfectly still. He trusted Fu Duqiu. So he sat there, stiff but obedient, while his hand on the piano keys still pressed out faint, breathy sounds.

Just as he expected, the kiss barely lingered—light, quick, like a dragonfly brushing water. Fu Duqiu pulled away almost immediately. The pheromones hanging in the room grew a shade richer, but neither of them moved for a while. They sat quietly, one in front of the other, until a familiar voice sounded outside the door. Only then did Fu Duqiu slowly rise to his feet.

“I should go.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but Duan Wei thought he heard a trace of reluctance in Fu Duqiu’s tone. His throat tightened. He stood up as well. “You—”

As soon as he started speaking, he caught himself—no way he was going to sound too worried. He cleared his throat, pretending to be casual. “With your condition… can you still come to class tomorrow?”

“No idea,” Fu Duqiu said, straightening Duan Wei’s messy collar like it was nothing intimate at all. “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll have to rest at home for a few days.”

“Oh…” Duan Wei nodded stiffly. “Got it.”

Seeing his conflicted expression, Fu Duqiu couldn’t help but smile. He turned, opened the door—and outside stood several people. Teacher Qin was at the front, looking anxious.

“What happened? Is it his susceptibility period?”

They were asking, but all their eyes were glued to the piano room. The only reason they dared come upstairs at all was that the Alpha pheromones had weakened. A moment earlier they’d been so overwhelming that the staff had seriously considered calling an ambulance.

Calming an Alpha during their susceptibility period was never easy. Unless…

Standing at the back, Peng Yan looked completely stricken. Ever since Duan Wei left earlier, he hadn’t heard a word from him. He knew his “Brother Duan” was dumb enough to run into danger without thinking.

A little white lamb strolling right into the big bad wolf’s den.

So the second he saw Duan Wei walk out from behind Fu Duqiu, the entire building could hear his wail:

“MY BROTHER DUAN— AAAAAHHHH! WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?? I’LL AVENGE YOU!!!”

Duan Wei: “…”

That outburst was all it took. Everyone immediately started imagining the worst. But aside from his too-big school uniform, Duan Wei showed no signs of being “ravaged,” so Teacher Qin let out a long breath and asked Fu Duqiu, “Can you walk?”

“I’m fine.” And unlike most Alphas in susceptibility, who usually got irritable or aggressive, Fu Duqiu was perfectly calm. He followed Teacher Qin toward the stairway, and just before leaving, he tossed Duan Wei one last glance—almost like reassurance.

Duan Wei, worried but refusing to show it, could only watch him walk away. His eyes stayed fixed on the hallway long after Fu Duqiu had disappeared.

Over the next two days, Fu Duqiu didn’t come to school.

He’d taken leave for his susceptibility period, and even his backpack remained untouched in his desk. Duan Wei stared at the empty seat to his right. For the first time ever, the emptiness felt… unsettling.

Class wasn’t over yet. It was self-study period. Peng Yan, surprisingly hardworking for once, had just finished a few practice papers. When he turned around, he froze at the scene before him.

His “who-cares-about-anything” Brother Duan was resting his chin on his hand, spinning a pen aimlessly with the other. His eyes kept drifting—barely, but unmistakably—toward the empty desk beside him. His face was expressionless, but the mood? Screamingly obvious.

Peng Yan sighed. He knew it. It was only a matter of time before Fu Duqiu reeled his Brother Duan in.

Unable to watch any longer, he tapped Duan Wei’s desk. Duan Wei snapped out of his trance like he’d been yanked from a dream. He stared at Peng Yan in a daze, then finally muttered, “What?”

“How about you go check on the school genius?” Peng Yan suggested carefully. “You two live close, right?”

As expected, the suggestion wasn’t even cold before Duan Wei slammed a hand on the desk, rolled his eyes, and scoffed like he’d just heard the funniest thing in the world. “Why would I go see him? Absurd.”

Peng Yan: “…”

He might as well write “I’m lying through my teeth” across his forehead.

Sensing the topic getting dangerous, Duan Wei swatted the idea away and asked stiffly, “Anything else?”

“Oh—uh… Xu Jianian and I are grabbing dinner later. Want to come?”

“Sure—” Duan Wei said automatically, but halfway through he froze, suspicious. “Hold on. Since when are you two so close you’re eating together privately?”

Usually Peng Yan invited him, and only then dragged Xu Jianian along to share a table. Now the roles had flipped—he was the extra.

Peng Yan looked surprised too. “She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me wh—”

Duan Wei stopped mid-sentence as something clicked. A while ago, Xu Jianian told him she liked a boy. His brain took a wild turn and looped back. His voice trembled.

“It’s you???”

Later, Peng Yan explained everything.

Turns out this “tragic romance” started six months ago. Back then he’d met a “matcha-scented Omega” online and excitedly showed Duan Wei their chat. At the time, Duan Wei was too busy trying to flirt with Fu Duqiu to care. Now he realized—Xu Jianian’s pheromones were matcha.

During winter break, they met in person. Peng Yan had already liked her. Xu Jianian knew it was him too—after all, with pheromones involved, who else could fail to recognize someone from their speech patterns?

Only an idiot like Peng Yan.

They officially met in person, started dating, then broke up after school started because of Duan Wei and the upcoming college entrance exams.

Hearing this, Duan Wei frowned. No wonder those two kept asking whether he still liked Xu Jianian—they’d been testing the waters because of this whole situation.

After solving the misunderstanding, the two got back together. This time they swore they wouldn’t let go of each other’s hand again—they’d get into college together.

After listening to the whole story, Duan Wei slowly shook his head, as though he’d just heard some passionate, tragic epic. He clapped lightly and commented, “What a roller coaster…”

Even though he’d mentally prepared himself to explain all this, Peng Yan was still embarrassed. He rubbed his own neck and grinned stupidly. “I thought she told you already.”

“You didn’t say anything, so I never suspected it.” Duan Wei still hadn’t recovered from the shock. When he recalled the Lantern Festival and the school sports meeting, all the little clues clicked at once. He shook his head repeatedly. “Now that I think about it, the details were everywhere.”

As if remembering something, Peng Yan continued, “We actually thought we were keeping it low. But when I told Fu Duqiu about it, he didn’t even react.”

“…Why?”

Peng Yan vividly remembered it. He had swallowed his embarrassment, stammered and stuttered his way through the confession that he was dating Xu Jianian… only to be cut off halfway.

Fu Duqiu said, cold as ever, “I already knew.”

Peng Yan had stared at him for several seconds before bursting out, “How did you know? When?!”

“Last year, the first snowfall.” Fu Duqiu didn’t bother explaining further. Holding his practice paper, he seemed utterly uninterested in their love life. “You two were too obvious.”

Hearing this, Duan Wei tried his hardest to recall that snowy day, yet he found nothing suspicious at all. He frowned again. At that time, Xu Jianian and Peng Yan weren’t even dating yet—how could Fu Duqiu tell? It was like the guy had a cheat code for life.

He couldn’t help asking, “Was it really that obvious?”

Even though he knew Duan Wei’s reactions were… well, slow, Peng Yan still defended his friend: “Maybe that’s just what geniuses do.”

Duan Wei fell silent. Learning Xu Jianian and Peng Yan were together should’ve been a huge disruption to the “original plot,” yet he didn’t feel bothered at all. In fact—he was relieved. Like some dusty narrative finally settled back into place, telling him: this ending is actually pretty nice.

He turned his eyes toward the empty desk beside him, frowning deeper.

What now?

It was the first time since transmigrating into this world that this question actually troubled him.

Logic and emotion clashed messily in his head. He thought for a long time, and the answer only grew clearer and clearer.

The image that emerged was Fu Duqiu.

The face he saw every single day suddenly carried a completely different meaning.

He slapped his forehead, silently chanting to himself.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. He doesn’t even like you…

Just then, a classmate tapped Peng Yan’s desk, passing a stack of test papers along. Peng Yan immediately wailed dramatically, “We only get one day off… do they really have to give us this many papers?!”

“You’re too naive.” The classmate chuckled. “You think they’d let you relax comfortably for a whole day?”

Tomorrow was the school’s monthly holiday—everyone could rest for a full day. But for the senior-year students, that just meant doing homework in a different location. Peng Yan threw the stack of papers onto Duan Wei’s desk, then glanced at the mountain of test papers piled on Fu Duqiu’s empty desk and shook his head. “When Fu Duqiu comes back, he’s gonna need physical therapy for his hands. Hey, Duan-ge, you sure you don’t wanna go check on him? You can bring his homework too.”

The thought jerked Duan Wei out of his complicated daydream. This time, he didn’t instantly refuse. He was silent for a moment, lips slightly tight, looking oddly conflicted.

Noticing Peng Yan staring at him, he waved his hands irritably like he couldn’t be bothered. “Mind your own business!”

Peng Yan turned around with a knowing grin. He’d guessed nine out of ten already.

And sure enough—after school, Duan Wei stealthily stuffed a thick stack of papers into his bag. Before leaving, he even reported to Mr. Qin that he was taking Fu Duqiu’s homework over.

Mr. Qin hesitated, stared at Duan Wei for a moment, then nodded.

On the way home, Duan Wei kept brainwashing himself: This is just helping a classmate. Helping. A. Classmate… Right. Helping. That’s it.

But when he walked past Fuqiu’s house, he chickened out again. He remembered how he’d proactively told Mr. Qin—making him look like he cared too much.

He wanted to slap himself across the face.

He paced shamefully for a long while… and then slunk back home.

As he opened the metal gate, he saw Qiao Ying collecting the laundry outside. She held up a uniform clearly too big for her son. “Duan Wei, is this your uniform? Did you eat too much and stretch it out?”

It was that uniform—the one Fu Duqiu draped on him during his susceptibility episode. Since Fu Duqiu didn’t come to school afterward, Duan Wei had washed and returned it.

Still mentally tangled, Duan Wei saw the uniform and suddenly lit up. He snatched it immediately. “Is it dry?”

“Of course it’s dry.” Qiao Ying looked confused.

Before she could ask anything more, Duan Wei unexpectedly grinned, grabbed the clothes, and dashed out the door, shouting as he left, “Thanks, Mom!”

“This kid…” Qiao Ying stared at his retreating figure, half laughing, half confused. “What’s gotten into him?”

Duan Wei ran all the way, clutching the uniform and the test papers. This time, he finally had a solid excuse.

He was just returning clothes. And delivering homework. Pure classmate courtesy. Mutual assistance. The most normal thing in the world.

The more he convinced himself, the more confident he became. He reached the large estate’s doorstep—his second time here. But unlike last time, there was now a luxury car parked outside. That meant someone else besides Fuqiu was inside.

He froze again, waging war in his head over whether to knock.

Just as he reached peak hesitation… the door suddenly opened.

A woman in home clothes stood there holding a garbage bag. She blinked at him, surprised at first, then smiled warmly. “You must be Xiao qiu’s classmate?”

It was Ye Qiong.

Faced with Fuqiu’s gorgeous mother, Duan Wei panicked a little, stiffly clutching his pant seams before bowing a full 90 degrees—almost flattened by his schoolbag. “Hello, Auntie!”

“Yes yes, hello.” Ye Qiong already had a good impression of him. Seeing him so polite made her smile even wider. She stepped aside. “You’re here to see Xiao qiu?”

“N-no,” Duan Wei stammered nervously, unsure who he was trying to fool. “I’m just returning something. And dropping off homework. That’s all.”

His panic was so obvious that Ye Qiong had to press her lips to hide a laugh. She nodded. “Come in, come in. No need to change your shoes. Auntie will just go throw this out. Make yourself at home.”

There was a hint in her smile that made Duan Wei wonder if he’d said something wrong. But before he could read her expression, she walked off with the trash, leaving him awkwardly at the entrance.

He still changed into disposable slippers out of habit. After taking a few steps inside, he saw someone walk out of the bedroom.

After two days, Fu Duqiu looked slightly pale, but his steps were steady—clearly recovering well. His home clothes hung loosely on him, his collarbones faintly visible, the red marks gone.

Duan Wei unconsciously relaxed.

Fu Duqiu had heard someone visit while he was in the room. No one ever came to check on him before, so when he saw Duan Wei, he was genuinely surprised. His voice softened instinctively. “Why are you here?”

Duan Wei froze, then quickly schooled his expression. He carefully placed the uniform on the sofa, then pulled the stack of papers from his bag. “I came to return something. And bring you your homework.”

He tried to look casual—as if this were purely routine.

FU Duqiu couldn’t help a small laugh. He glanced at the uniform on the sofa, then walked over, taking the papers from him and flipping through them. “Well. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” Duan Wei lifted his chin slightly. “We’re seatmates. Seatmates help each other.”

He emphasized “seatmates” and “help each other” like a man defending his innocence in court, but that only made him more suspicious.

“True,” Fu Duqiu set the papers aside, then stepped closer—close enough that they were only a few inches apart. With a faint, amused tone, he said, “Mr. Qin already sent me the electronic copies. I was just planning to print them.”