Cute, Dangerous, and Mine

“If he had known restraint and how to eliminate future trouble, Boss Li wouldn’t have had the nerve to come knocking again today.”

Boss Li could no longer make any sound in response.

Zhao Guipu tossed aside the man’s mangled hand, cigarette between his lips, eyes half-lidded.

He walked around to the desk and casually wiped his hands with a wet tissue.

The bloodstained tissue was thrown into the trash.

A pale yellow liquid spread beneath the middle-aged Alpha.

The smell of tobacco masked some of the stench.

As for having to replace the carpet again, no one on the entire top floor found it surprising.

The carpet supplier could probably offer a monthly subscription discount at this point.

Mr. Zhao had never once thought of restraining himself.

With an indifferent expression, he returned to the coffee table and picked up the contract—already prepared—demanding a 5% reduction in shipping costs, practically daylight robbery.

Flipping to the last page, he signed his name in bold, elegant calligraphy.

“There. Boss Li, you know I’ve always been fair and hospitable. This trip of yours wasn’t for nothing.”

After signing, Zhao Guipu carefully wiped the blood off the folder.

Once it was clean, he took out his phone, snapped a photo of the signed contract, and sent it to the Beta whose profile picture was a little golden retriever.

[ZHAO: “Image.”]
[ZHAO: A’Qie. It’s handled here.]

[Wu Qie: …]
[Wu Qie: You actually signed it?? This can’t be settled like this, you should at least resist?? He grabbed your ass first?! Where’s the law in this?!]
[Wu Qie: Are there any—typos.]
[Wu Qie: Is the loss big? Should I ask my dad to cover it?]

Zhao Guipu stood beside Boss Li, who was still writhing and groaning on the floor, and read the replies carefully.

After thinking for a moment, he replied with a gentle, almost indulgent elder’s tone: “No need.”

The little golden retriever profile kept sending messages nonstop.

The phone buzzed again and again, but Zhao Guipu didn’t rush to check.

He set it aside.

Crouching down, he tapped the pale face of the middle-aged Alpha on the ground with the folder in his hand.

Smiling, he said—whether to Boss Li or to himself, it wasn’t clear:

“He wants to compensate me. Don’t you think that’s quite cute?”

Before the Autumn League began, Old Xue and Sun Mi prepared a big surprise for the basketball team—

A half-month-long joint training camp with Yicheng Affiliated High and Imperial Capital No. 12 High, both perennial top contenders in the national high school league.

As soon as the news came out, the basketball team exploded with excitement.

Every single one of them was thrilled.

Offer these pampered young masters a romantic seven-day trip to France, and they’d groan in disinterest, saying they’d rather stay home and play games.

But lock them up in the mountains with a bunch of strangers their age to play basketball?

Now that got them fired up.

Especially since both Yicheng Affiliated High and Imperial Capital No. 12 High were genuinely strong.

Yicheng Affiliated High had won both the Autumn League and Winter Championship last year.

Among their starting five, three were seniors who had already been scouted and signed by CBA teams right after presenting as Alphas in their second year.

They also had a second-year point guard who was a starting player on the national youth team.

Imperial Capital No. 12 High was interesting in another way—it was basically another version of Hongtie High.

The children of influential figures across the country were split by north and south—those who didn’t go abroad mostly gathered at Hongtie High and Imperial Capital No. 12 High.

As a result, the two schools were constantly compared.

Over time, even without much direct interaction, the accumulated rivalry sparked intense friction.

Last year’s Autumn League, Zhao Shu and Pei Qingyu had just finished presenting.

For the sake of stability, Sun Mi didn’t give them fixed starting positions, and Hongtie High was eliminated in the quarterfinals—knocked out by Imperial Capital No. 12 High.

In the end, Imperial Capital No. 12 High took third place.

That humiliation lingered for a long time.

Students from Hongtie High couldn’t hold their heads up, and those with northern relatives would even get teased during New Year visits—

“I heard your school got sent packing in the quarterfinals by my alma mater?”

This disgrace carried into this year, and everyone—including Sun Mi—was itching for revenge.

This year, they had a luxurious double S-level Alpha lineup—

Power forward Zhao Shu, whose height granted him exceptional court vision, would act as a secondary playmaker in high-post offense, while his size made him an unscalable wall under the basket.

Small forward Pei Qingyu possessed elite defensive IQ and off-ball awareness, a blade that could cut through the entire court.

This was Hongtie’s frontcourt—stronger than the Great Wall.

And they also had Teacher Xiao Wu.

The team leader obtained through English teacher Yang Sir’s noble self-sacrifice.

Standing beneath the tactics board with a thick notebook in hand, speaking in the same tone he used to explain continental drift, he said:

“Two of Imperial Capital No. 12 High’s three core players will be on the verge of their susceptible periods during the Autumn League.”

Everyone who might have dozed off in geography class instantly snapped awake.

“Chen Cheng, Jiang Tianlu, and Zhou Kai are older, with stable cycles. That means they will definitely enter their susceptible periods during the tournament.”

“Drugs that delay it conflict with blockade injections, so they’ll have to choose between enduring old injuries or delaying the cycle.”

“Injuries to the knees and other parts of the body will affect mobility, speed, and physical confrontation. Jiang Tianlu sprained his ankle last year in a training match, and his agility is still affected—he’ll likely favor perimeter three-point shots…”

“We happen to have tall, long-armed, mobile forwards who can apply tight defense and shut down his off-ball three-point opportunities.”

“Targeting an opponent’s injuries is despicable. But if you step onto the court, you play to win.”

“So in this training camp, we’ll focus on high intensity, fast pace, and frequent physical confrontation—wear down their starters and try to widen the score gap in the second half.”

The afternoon sunlight filtered softly into the gym.

The Beta’s hair swayed slightly with the rhythm of the notebook tapping against his palm, the sunlight forming a halo at the tips.

All eyes were on him.

He was like a cat walking proudly among wolves—

Harmless compared to them.

Yet none of the naturally aggressive creatures wanted to attack him.

Under his absolute control of the situation, everyone obediently reined in their instincts, watching him like wagging-tailed beasts.

Zhao Shu sat cross-legged at the far end, leaning against a fixed bench.

Beside him, Teacher Xue was practically in tears, looking at the opponent data and strategies Wu Qie had somehow gathered.

At this moment, he felt that his visit to Yang Sir that day had saved the entire team—

He had brought them Teacher Xiao Wu.

His merit was complete.

He would surely go to heaven after death.

His gaze was so intense that someone kicked his leg.

Old Xue looked down and met Zhao Shu’s eyes—

The very same starting player who had objected the loudest when Wu Qie was assigned as team leader.

Now the boy looked at him lazily and said with mockery,

“Watch your expression, Old Xue. You look kind of creepy—if you’re planning to pounce on him and kiss him, you might need my permission first.”

Old Xue: “…”

Right. He almost forgot.

This brat was Teacher Xiao Wu’s fiancé.

A fresh flower stuck in a pile of cow dung.

Old Xue kicked back without hesitation.

The boy didn’t even budge, his strong legs unmoved, while up front, Wu Qie had already wrapped up his overall strategy briefing.

There was too much to cover.

The rest would be adjusted during training.

The afternoon session ended in a rising wave of anticipation for revenge against Imperial Capital No. 12 High.

As the crowd dispersed, Zhao Shu grabbed a peach-flavored sports drink and took a sip.

Amid the sweetness, he caught a hint of laundry detergent scent, mingling with sunlight.

The blend made him narrow his eyes as he looked up.

The black-haired young man bent down, the thick black notebook in his hand smacking against Zhao Shu’s face.

A cool voice sounded above him.

“Dinner tonight. Did Mr. Zhao tell you? After school, you’re coming with me.”

Zhao Shu expressionlessly moved the book off his face.

“Oh. Did you get a bonus? A big one? Suddenly treating me to dinner?”

Wu Qie fell silent.

After a moment, he coughed lightly, his long lashes trembling as he turned his face away, a bit guilty.

Zhao Guipu had never told him how much that contract had cost him.

In Wu Qie’s mind, the man’s towering image had cracked slightly.

He couldn’t believe the famous Mr. Zhao had such a soft heart—that even a random low-level Alpha could take advantage of him.

It didn’t make sense.

But the contract didn’t seem fake either.

After that, Wu Qie waited two days, but no news came out about the chaos on the top floor.

It was as if everything had settled the moment the contract was signed.

“I owe Mr. Zhao a favor. He suffered because of me.”

“?”

Zhao Shu had never imagined the phrase “Zhao Guipu suffered” could even exist.

As Wu Qie thought of Zhao Guipu, he drifted off slightly, not noticing Zhao Shu staring at him.

The black-haired Beta narrowed his eyes, openly lost in thought, half his face bathed in sunlight—

Overlapping with the image of him commanding everyone’s attention earlier.

In Zhao Shu’s mind, two words suddenly surfaced:

‘Mine.’

Still seated, the Alpha raised his hand and brushed aside the strands of hair on Wu Qie’s forehead.

His fingertips grazed his eyelashes, briefly covering those sharp, dark eyes.

That sharpness—like glimmering gold—only appeared when the Beta touched a basketball.

Those who hadn’t left yet glanced over.

Wu Qie slapped his hand away and warned seriously,

“Don’t mess around.”

Zhao Shu gave a lazy smile.

‘Mine.’