Truce, deal or not

The slightly cool palm pressed against his lips.

[Want to lick.]

Zhao Shu froze midair between the bed and Wu Qie.

[Lick him. Leave my scent on him. Bite him. Palm. Lick.]

His hand twitched weakly in the air.

The Alpha suddenly recoiled backward, the heat in his face surging even higher than before.

A flash of embarrassment flickered through his previously half-lidded eyes.

[Lick lick lick lick lick. Palm.]

He let out a heavy breath.
Amid the chaos and uncontrollable noise in his mind, Zhao Shu managed to grasp a sliver of reason.

His hand gripped the edge of the bed tightly, preventing himself from reaching out to pull the person in front of him closer.

He pulled his head back, avoiding the hand pressed against his face—

That hand that felt dangerously tempting.

‘He’s lost it.’

Zhao Shu thought—

‘This is seriously haunted.’

“Wu Qie,” he said hoarsely, “I’m already like this, and you’re still talking in that mocking tone?”

“Why can’t I?”

“It’s not like I made your sensitive period come early.”

The black-haired Beta’s tone was far too calm—

So calm that it was obvious he didn’t think Zhao Shu’s condition had anything to do with what happened in the lounge yesterday.

Wu Qie didn’t connect the dots.

And Zhao Shu definitely wasn’t about to admit it.

So he shut down completely, closed his mouth, and fell heavily back onto the bed, turning over to face away from him.

At that moment, the school doctor returned with the suppressant and quickly administered an injection into the sweat-soaked Alpha lying on the bed.

For a long time, the room was filled only with Zhao Shu’s heavy breathing.

Wu Qie sat by the bedside with his arms crossed.

His expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Only when the person on the bed moved slightly and slowly sat up did he shift his gaze.

Zhao Shu brushed his damp hair back, bent down to pick up the discarded bite guard, and put it back on.

The redness in his eyes had faded somewhat, though faint blood vessels still lingered.

After securing the bite guard, he glanced at the black-haired young man sitting beside the bed.

Wu Qie met his gaze calmly.

—No emotion.

No reaction.

No influence.

No temptation.

Zhao Shu’s fingertip scraped lightly against the cold metal of the bite guard as he let out a hoarse chuckle.

“So cold.”

“It’s hard not to be cold,” Wu Qie replied evenly,

“especially since I have to live up to your claim that I’m like a dead fish in bed.”

“I’m not, by the way.”

He added matter-of-factly,

“But with someone like you… hard to say.”

Starting the morning with anger wasn’t exactly good for one’s health, but Zhao Shu couldn’t stop his breathing from growing heavier.

His tone dropped sharply.

He stood up.

Ignoring the heat radiating off his body and the dizziness clouding his mind, he strode toward the door and pressed his hand against the handle—

“You just make me feel like yesterday’s decision was the right one.”

Wu Qie fell silent.

That silence only fueled the irritation burning inside Zhao Shu.

After a long pause, the black-haired young man simply lifted his lashes slightly and looked at him directly.

“I didn’t object to that part.”

He said it plainly.

In the end, Zhao Shu was dragged out of the infirmary by the group waiting outside.

After all, if he picked a fight with a teacher at school, Zhao Guipu might end up donating another building.

Zhao Shu locked himself in his room the moment he got home.

By the time Zhao Guipu returned from work, Fei Yuming was already there.
He sat on a small stool outside Zhao Shu’s bedroom door with a case of S-class Alpha suppressants at his feet.

He was wearing a pheromone-blocking mask.

“He forced himself to walk out of the infirmary with dignity using a suppressant that barely works.”

Fei Yuming laughed.

“Young people really are resilient.”

Zhao Guipu didn’t comment.
He glanced at the tightly shut door.

A faint scent of tequila drifted out from the gap.

Anyone else would have retreated or worn a mask like Fei Yuming.

But Zhao Guipu seemed completely unaffected.

From inside the room came occasional thudding sounds—

Like a canine scratching at a door.

There were low, suppressed “wu… wu…” sounds—

Like a beast enduring pain.

Zhao Guipu let out a soft chuckle.

“Zhao Shu, are you in pain, or calling someone’s name?”

The room instantly went silent.

Completely obedient.

Fei Yuming blinked in surprise.

Zhao Guipu waved it off, clearly uninterested in dealing with a hormone-driven teenager, and turned to his study to continue working.

Zhao Shu hadn’t intended to completely fall out with Wu Qie.

That night after the lounge argument, he had even reflected on whether he had gone too far.

His conclusion was—

‘Yeah, a bit.’

He had planned to ease the tension the next day at school.

Instead, his sensitive period came early.

Maybe he and this Beta were just fundamentally incompatible.

Now it was proven.

After barely surviving the sudden episode with double the usual dose of suppressants, Zhao Shu was finally allowed out of his room.

He looked drained, thinner, completely exhausted.

For days, he had done nothing but stay in bed.

And with his injured hand, even dealing with his condition had been frustrating.

By the time it ended, he was restless to the point of irritation.

Back at school, he didn’t care how others saw him.

No one dared mock him anyway.

He stayed after school in the basketball gym.

He didn’t join scrimmages—

Just practiced alone.

His right hand wasn’t usable, so he focused on footwork.

A move Wu Qie had taught him.

Pivot on the right foot, step out with the left, rotate the upper body as if to shoot, and use eye direction to fake out the defender.

This move had humiliated him before.

Now he tried it again.

But the underclassmen couldn’t challenge him at all.

Compared to the Beta who could steal his ball eight out of ten times—

These Alphas were embarrassingly clumsy.

The worst part?

That Beta was sitting courtside right now.

Several days had passed.

The sensitive period was over.

And Wu Qie still had that same presence.

Those calm eyes occasionally drifted over.

“Wrong.”

“Again.”

“I slowed it down on purpose and you still can’t steal it?!”

“Are you serious?”

“After me and Pei Qingyu graduate, should the basketball team just disband?”

“Do you want me to just hand you the ball?”

Zhao Shu’s voice grew increasingly irritable.

The entire gym echoed with him scolding people.

Pei Qingyu calmly commented, “Your veins are about to burst.”

Zhao Shu took a deep breath, then suddenly threw the ball aside.

“…Not practicing anymore.”

By the time he stopped, night had already fallen.

Only then did he realize—

He had been staring at Wu Qie for a long time.

Wu Qie sat on his usual metal chair.

Hands resting neatly on his knees.

Listening quietly as the coach spoke.

Sitting straight, like a well-behaved student.

Every time he was asked for input, he responded smoothly and precisely.

The coaches were clearly satisfied with him.

When training ended, Wu Qie slowly stood up.

Zhao Shu’s feet shifted unconsciously toward him.

But someone got there first.

Pei Qingyu stepped forward with a notebook.

Wu Qie leaned down slightly, discussing something with him.

Then sat back down again.

While talking to Pei Qingyu—

His eyes lit up.

A soft, genuine smile appeared.

Something Zhao Shu had never seen directed at him.

A fire ignited in Zhao Shu’s chest.

He didn’t know why.

But it annoyed him.

At first, he just stood there watching.

Until Pei Qingyu turned another page.

“…Seriously?”

Zhao Shu finally lost patience and strode over.

“You done talking?”

The conversation stopped.

Both of them turned to look at him.

Wu Qie’s tone returned to neutral.

“What is it?”

Zhao Shu hesitated for a moment.

“…That footwork. I can’t practice it alone. Train with me.”

Wu Qie blinked.

“You can do non-contact drills.
Build muscle memory.”

That was the longest sentence he had said to Zhao Shu all day.

Zhao Shu felt momentarily dazed.

“That’s too slow. The autumn league is soon—”

“Zhao Shu.”

Wu Qie cut him off calmly.

“I want to go home early today.”

“…What do you mean?”

Wu Qie sighed slightly.

“I’m not obligated to train with you.”

Silence.

Wu Qie stood up, packed his things, and walked past him without another glance.

In the following days, something between them changed.

No arguments.

Just distance.

Cold.

Polite.

Unfamiliar.

Friday night.

After training, the team dragged the coaches out for a late-night meal.

Wu Qie tried to leave as usual.

Failed as usual.

Same restaurant.
Same private room.

Same seating arrangement.

Wu Qie sat across from Pei Qingyu.
Zhao Shu sat beside him.

The atmosphere was lively.

Someone started a round of drinking.

One by one, the players came to toast Wu Qie.

This time, he didn’t even get a chance to put his glass down.

Even Pei Qingyu joined in.

In the end—

Only Zhao Shu hadn’t moved.

The atmosphere turned awkward.

Even Pei Qingyu frowned.

“Zhao Shu.”

At that moment, his phone rang.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zhao Shu noticed Wu Qie subtly shift away from him—

As if relieved.

Zhao Shu took the call without leaving.

After hanging up—

Wu Qie stood up.

“I’m going to the restroom.”

Pei Qingyu checked his phone.

“I should head back soon. Want to leave together?”

Wu Qie blinked.

“I drove.”

“Let the driver pick it up tomorrow. Hard to get a designated driver right now.”

“…Okay.”

Wu Qie gestured toward the restroom.

“Wait a few minutes.”

The door slid open and shut.

Wu Qie hurried inside, barely keeping his balance.

By the time he reached the sink, nausea hit its peak—

But nothing came out.

He only managed a few dry heaves.

The dizziness worsened.

The alcohol hit all at once.

He leaned against the sink, breathing heavily.

‘Never drinking again.’

He splashed water on his face.

Then took out his phone to message Pei Qingyu to leave first.

Just as he unlocked it—

The restroom door opened again.

Someone walked in.

Before Wu Qie could react—

His phone was taken.

He looked up.

Zhao Shu stood in front of him.

Expressionless.

Wu Qie vaguely remembered—

Zhao Shu hadn’t drunk anything tonight.

He didn’t even try to take his phone back.

Instead, he leaned against the wall.

“…What now?”

His voice was slow and tired.

Zhao Shu didn’t answer.

His gaze dropped—

To Wu Qie’s exposed neck.

Pale skin.
Faint flush.
Completely defenseless.

Irritating.

“Can’t hold your alcohol, then don’t drink.”

“Then stop looking if it bothers you.”

“…Who were you messaging?”

Zhao Shu finally spoke.

“Pei Qingyu?”

Wu Qie sighed internally.

Here we go again.

Too tired to argue, he reached out and weakly grabbed Zhao Shu’s sleeve.

“…Give it back.”

Zhao Shu brushed his hand away.

“I told him to leave first.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“…Really?”

“…Yeah.”

A lie.

“Wu Qie.”

“What?”

Zhao Shu leaned closer.

A faint scent of tequila lingered between them.

“Truce.”

“Okay?”