The Enigma on the Bus

After the National Day Golden Week, the lingering heat of the ‘autumn tiger’ had yet to recede. Heatwaves shimmered and twisted in the air. The entire Xihe County was shrouded in stifling humidity.

Indeed, the incessant chirping of cicadas in the shade of the trees blended with the shouts and angry roars from a bus at the station. Instantly, the surrounding air became thick with tension.

“Open the door, I want to get off!” the man roared. He was tall but as thin as a stick of straw, his eyes darting erratically as he looked at the passengers, constantly wiping his nose, his body trembling almost imperceptibly.

He kicked and punched the tightly shut bus door. When his efforts proved futile, he abruptly turned, his eyes glinting with a bloodthirsty malice. The passengers, who had surrounded him, felt a chill run down their spines at his glare, instinctively stepping back.

Facing the man, Ji Ye instinctively adopted a defensive stance. However, in the next second, the bus cabin was flooded with the potent, liquor-like pheromones of an Enigma. Most people instantly found it difficult to breathe, a crushing pressure descending upon them, and several newly differentiated Omegas, unable to withstand it, collapsed to their knees with a thud.

“He’s an Enigma!”

This exclamation struck like a thunderclap, causing the already calm bus cabin to erupt once more, with expressions of terror blooming on everyone’s faces.

“That’s what you get for being nosy—” the man roared, his eyes bloodshot as he staggered, swinging his fists and charging at Ji Ye.

Even as an Alpha, Ji Ye was suppressed by the sudden influx of pheromones, fine beads of sweat gradually forming on his forehead, and his reactions consequently slowed by half a beat.

He inwardly cursed, ‘This isn’t good.’ He wanted to resist but was pinned by the pheromones, forced to watch as the man charged. The man’s face, contorted with rage, appeared extremely ferocious, his eyes clearly revealing murderous intent.

“Damn it! E’s are as insidious as ever!” Zhang Qian exclaimed indignantly. Then, his voice laced with anxiety, he asked, “And then what? Did you call the police?”

Ji Ye clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back leisurely against his chair. He glanced at He Chuanrong, who was engrossed in solving a problem to his right.

He Chuanrong’s slightly curly, light brown hair was prominent under the classroom lights. Just like him, even when amidst a crowd of handsome men, he stood out as a striking, charismatic presence, extremely eye-catching.

After a few seconds, Ji Ye shifted his gaze back to Zhang Qian in the front row.

Seeing the expectant look in Zhang Qian’s eyes, he suppressed his smile, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned forward slightly, feigning a solemn expression. He was well aware of Zhang Qian’s chuunibyou personality, so he adopted a mysterious air, deliberately lowering his voice:

“It happened in a flash. My deskmate leaped up and fiercely kicked that E down, swiftly subduing them.”

“Go on, what happened next?” Zhang Qian leaned forward, his eyes shining, already envisioning He Chuanrong’s heroic leap in his mind.

Ji Ye’s expression was one of proud arrogance as he leaned back against the chair again. He described the events on the bus last Saturday so vividly, much like a storyteller in a teahouse or tavern.

That day, on his way home from the Youth Art Studio, he encountered a pickpocket on the bus. He bravely intervened, but unexpectedly, the culprit turned out to be an Enigma, who then used their pheromones to suppress everyone in the cabin.

Moreover, the Enigma’s state at the time was extremely abnormal, as if they were on drugs, on the verge of losing control and harming others. If not for He Chuanrong, who happened to be returning after delivering materials and offered help, Ji Ye figured he would likely be lying in a hospital bed right now. At this thought, Ji Ye’s peripheral vision subtly flickered towards his deskmate.

Listening to his documentary-like description, Zhang Qian rested one hand on the back of his chair and propped his chin with the other, his brows slightly furrowed. “It does have a touch of ‘hero saving the beauty’ to it. Our Great Hero He’s righteous image immediately springs to life.”

“Of course,” Ji Ye said, his eyes filled with triumph. Then, realizing his words, he kicked the leg of Zhang Qian’s chair and snatched the pen from the table, using it to tap Zhang Qian’s hand resting on the chair back.

He was, like Zhang Qian, a genuine Alpha, and such a scenario was simply not fitting for him.

“Why do you change your mind faster than flipping a book?” Zhang Qian hissed, pouting. “Listen to your own description—isn’t that the typical ‘hero saving the beauty’? If you don’t believe me, ask Vice Class Monitor He.”

“Right, Vice Class Monitor He?” He looked at He Chuanrong, who was still buried in a sea of problems, casting a tentative, pleading look.

Upon hearing this, He Chuanrong raised his eyes, observing the two bickering figures. He offered a faint smile but gave no answer, allowing them to continue their playful squabble.

“See? Even the Vice Class Monitor doesn’t agree with what you’re saying.”

As if receiving support, Ji Ye felt a strong hand at his back, and his voice became full of confidence.

“Tch,” Zhang Qian rolled his eyes. “You don’t understand. The Vice Class Monitor is just tacitly agreeing, not bothering to argue with you.”

“Hey, you’re still not convinced, are you? The Vice Class Monitor is my deskmate; I know his temper,” Ji Ye said, his eyebrows slightly raised, as if stating the obvious.

For a moment, Zhang Qian couldn’t find a retort, because it was indeed true.

He Chuanrong had transferred to Xihe No. 1 High School from Xihe Vocational High School only a week after the class assignments. In his first few days, he maintained a cold demeanor, entering and leaving the classroom precisely on time and always alone. Those large, single-lidded eyes, in particular, subtly conveyed a sense of detachment when he looked at people. During breaks, he would always sleep with his head on his desk, and his every move seemed to scream ‘strangers keep out,’ never initiating conversations with others.

Therefore, despite his exceptional appearance and qualities, he gave off an unapproachable vibe, causing almost no one to easily get close to him, fearing a cold shoulder.

It wasn’t until a week ago, when the original vice class monitor transferred schools, that the homeroom teacher moved him to sit with Ji Ye. Unlike He Chuanrong, Ji Ye was lively, cheerful, and talkative, getting along very well with most of his classmates.

At first, everyone thought this block of ice would give Ji Ye a hard time. But no one expected that in just three days, He Chuanrong would transform completely, treating Ji Ye with an astonishing kindness and indulgence, always willing to accommodate his requests.

Seeing He Chuanrong’s 180-degree change, more people began to talk to him, including students from other classes. However, everyone quickly discovered that the distinction in his treatment of Ji Ye and others was strikingly obvious. If his enthusiasm for Ji Ye was a perfect ten, then for everyone else, it was merely a three-point, distant politeness.

But this was not He Chuanrong’s fault. After all, Ji Ye possessed an extremely strong youthful aura in his features, with large eyes that drooped slightly at the outer corners. A tiny, sesame-sized brown mole on the right side of his nose added a touch of playfulness, making him look like a lively, sunny puppy—a true class favorite whom no one could bear to refuse.

He Chuanrong capped his pen, twirling it idly as he watched the two still bickering and playing. They exchanged barbs, one after another, like children squabbling endlessly.

“You two, stop messing around! You’re already in your second year of high school, still so childish,” Class Monitor Tian Jingwen said as she walked into the classroom, spotting the two arguing.

“Class Monitor, Ji Ye hit me again!” Upon hearing this, Zhang Qian darted towards Tian Jingwen, circled behind her, and smugly taunted Ji Ye, who was standing by his seat.

Tian Jingwen sighed helplessly, waving her hand. “Be more mature. Look at yourselves, what a sight.” She then walked over to He Chuanrong’s seat.

“Oh, right. Old Wen said he wants us two to find him during the next class break. There’s a provincial essay competition.”

Old Wen was the Chinese teacher and homeroom teacher of Class 8, whose real name was Wen Xuanyi, a senior teacher on the verge of retirement. Although he had only been teaching them for a month, he was kind, approachable, and humorous, deeply loved by his students, who affectionately called him Old Wen.

“Alright, thank you,” He Chuanrong said, offering his characteristic polite smile and nodding to her.

“You’re welcome.” Tian Jingwen met his indifferent gaze, smiled, and then returned to her own seat.

“Provincial?”

Provincial competition slots had always gone to Class 3 (Liberal Arts) and Class 9 (Science).

Zhang Qian walked over, exclaiming in wide-eyed astonishment, pulling his deskmate’s chair and straddling it. They had heard through unofficial channels that He Chuanrong’s entrance exam scores were easily within the top ten of their grade, yet he had chosen to enter Class 8 instead of Class 3.

“Sometimes I really want to pry open you top students’ heads to see what’s actually inside,” Zhang Qian said, still reeling from the shock of the essay competition, shaking his head with a ‘tsk tsk.’ “Class 3 is an experimental class; step into it, and one foot is already in a top-tier university. Why did you decide to come to our regular class?”

He mustered his courage, unleashing all the questions that had accumulated in his mind.

In contrast, Ji Ye appeared much calmer. He casually pulled out his chair and slowly sat down, propping his chin with one hand. “It’s like the Class Monitor said, ‘Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix!'”

“Deskmate, my guess isn’t wrong, is it?”

He tilted his head, his eyes bright, like a little puppy awaiting praise, though he himself was unaware of it.

He Chuanrong found his expression endearing. He stopped twirling his pen, instead grasping it in his palm, his thumb continuously tapping the pen cap. The moment his gaze met Ji Ye’s, it abruptly shifted away.

After a moment, he fixed his gaze on the desktop, then made a great effort to conceal his awkwardness, nodding as he said, “Mm.”

During this, he dared not lift his eyes to look at Ji Ye.

“See? As expected, I know my deskmate best.”

Thinking He Chuanrong was shy, Ji Ye shifted his gaze to Zhang Qian, his eyes full of the joy and pride of victory.

Zhang Qian raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I admit, you’re the one who understands your deskmate best in the whole world.”

After all, Ji Ye had only taken three days to make the iceberg that was He Chuanrong smile and melt for him.

‘Who told Ji Ye to be the class favorite?’ Zhang Qian chuckled inwardly. He and Ji Ye had been in the same class since middle school, and it was from then that he truly understood what it meant to be a class favorite.

Most people would instinctively indulge him because of his childish face and puppy-like personality.

Upon hearing the words “whole world,” He Chuanrong felt his heart quicken, his eyes brimming with exhilaration. To appear more natural, he reopened his practice questions, solving them while listening to their conversation.

“By the way, after you sent that E to the police station, did you hear anything from the police? You said their state was like they were on drugs. Could you have actually been right?”

Zhang Qian’s smile faded, his eyes filled with disgust for the Enigma, and his tone became unconsciously serious.

Ji Ye hadn’t even opened his mouth, but He Chuanrong, listening beside him, paused his hand.

“They didn’t say anything, only asked about the pickpocketing process. But I’d guess it’s pretty close to the truth,” Ji Ye said.

The Enigma’s distorted face was vivid in his memory. He narrowed his eyes, a sense of loathing for Enigmas coursing through every cell of his body.

“Don’t mention Enigmas; it ruins my mood.”

Enigmas were generally an unwelcome presence. Even though most of them possessed intelligence and looks above the global average, they had a fatal flaw: virtually all visible Enigmas in society were high-functioning antisocial carriers.

Although research showed that finding a pheromone-matched Alpha or Omega in the early stages of an Enigma’s differentiation could prevent them from going to extremes to a certain extent, practically no Alpha or Omega was willing to do so. After all, no one wanted to be a buffer.

Ji Ye spoke bluntly, his tone revealing his raw hatred for Enigmas.

Upon hearing this, He Chuanrong’s eyes, beside him, instantly dimmed. He couldn’t help but grip the pen in his hand tightly, his fingertips turning white from the excessive force, his hand curled on the desktop silently clenching into a fist.