The next day during music class.

My eyes lit up as inspiration struck.


When the bell rang, I shot my hand up with a pained expression: "Teacher! Julian has a terrible stomachache—might be gastroenteritis! I need to get him to the nurse's office!"

The music teacher glanced at Julian's bloodless face (his normal complexion, actually), bought it completely, and waved us off: "Go, go quickly!"

I grabbed Julian's arm and made our grand escape, feeling the envious stares of our classmates burning into our backs.


Naturally, we didn't go anywhere near the nurse's office. Instead, I dragged him to a bustling noodle joint tucked away on the back street behind school.

"Hey, boss! One large beef noodle bowl, extra spicy!" I hollered confidently.


The owner, a jovial middle-aged man, wiped down tables while giving us a knowing look. "Well, well, young lovebirds playing hooky again?"

I grinned shamelessly: "Damn right! Education's got nothing on your noodles!"

Julian tensed beside me like a spooked rabbit, his hand darting out as if to cover my unfiltered mouth. His Alpha-typical respect for rules and inherent sense of propriety were on full display—adorably uptight.

The noodles arrived quickly—a massive steaming bowl. I pushed it toward him, but Julian pulled out his phone and typed in his notes app: I have money. We can get two bowls.

I laughed heartily: "Nah, I prefer sharing with you."

So we sat with our heads nearly touching, sharing one bowl of noodles in quiet harmony.

After we finished, my devilish side emerged. I grabbed his hand and bolted toward the door: "Run! Let's dine and dash!"

Julian stumbled after me, clearly horrified by the words "dine and dash." He fought desperately to break free, his face a portrait of moral crisis.

I stopped after just a few steps, turned to him with a devilish grin: "Just kidding! What kind of person eats and runs?"

I pushed him back into the restaurant and pulled out my phone to scan the payment code. Then I fixed Julian with a serious look: "Now go apologize to the owner. Tell him you were considering a dine-and-dash but have seen the error of your ways."

I was doing this deliberately—forcing him to speak, to face this socially awkward situation head-on.

Julian's face flushed crimson instantly. His palms went sweaty as he looked nervously between me and the confused owner, his lips quivering. Finally, with my encouraging nod, he took a deep breath and said in a soft but clear voice:

"I… um… I'll pay for it."

The owner looked completely bewildered. Glancing between the mortified Julian and my barely contained laughter, he just shook his head:

"Lord help me, kids these days…"

The truth was, I'd already secretly paid before I pushed Julian back inside.

As it turned out, my "exposure therapy" was remarkably effective.

From that day forward, my relationship with Julian improved dramatically.

"Julian," I said with mock seriousness during study hall, "did you know that research shows saying 'I am incredibly handsome' three times daily significantly stabilizes Alpha pheromones?"

He stared at me blankly for three seconds, then actually lowered his head and muttered the phrase three times in rapid succession, so quietly only he could hear. His earnest yet mortified expression nearly made me burst out laughing on the spot.

Our interactions expanded from in-person to digital.

I scrolled through my chat history with Lucas—painful reading. It was basically just me entertaining myself, sending dozens of complaints and memes while he replied with an "hmm" or "got it" every few hours. Like chatting with a particularly unresponsive AI.

But Julian was different.

Since adding him on WeChat, he responded to every single message I sent. Usually just with an "hmm" or an awkwardly deployed [smile] emoji, but that 100% response rate gave me ridiculous emotional satisfaction. I sensed that through the screen, freed from the pressure of face-to-face interaction, he could relax a little.

He had a particular fondness for the [peeking cat] emoticon—used clumsily but adorably—creating a delightful contrast with his naturally cool snow cedar pheromone.

The clearest sign our relationship was warming came when I discovered how pleasant his voice actually was—a clean, youthful tone with just a hint of huskiness, like ice cubes clinking in crystal.

"With a voice like that, you're wasting your talents not being a voice actor," I teased. "Here, try reading this line—'I like Aurora.'"

The moment I finished speaking, his face turned crimson—starting from his ears and rapidly consuming his entire face. His ice-blue eyes darted away nervously, his body went rigid, and the snow cedar pheromone around him suddenly spiked so intensely I nearly sneezed.

An Alpha losing control of his pheromones over a casual flirtatious comment from an Omega—if word got out, no one would believe it. He was so flustered he couldn't speak for ages, just kept his head down, resembling nothing so much as a boiled lobster. Watching his innocent reaction, I felt my own sweet orange pheromones practically fizzing with delight.

One morning, I trudged into class mid-yawn and found a steaming paper bag on my desk.

I shot Julian a questioning look.

He avoided my gaze, just nudged the paper bag with one finger before quickly withdrawing his hand and pretending to be fascinated by the window view.

I opened it to find soup dumplings from Li's—the most sought-after dumpling joint in the southern part of the city.

"Well, well, unexpected gifts usually come with strings attached." I took a bite—the soup was divine, the aroma intoxicating.

He finally turned toward me, pulled out his phone, and typed in his notes app: From my sister. She says thank you.

So it was Vivian's "bribe"—thanking me for helping her autistic brother finally speak. I felt a warmth spread through my chest as I looked at Julian's seemingly expressionless face, catching that hint of concern in his eyes. The unspoken understanding between us deepened.

I pulled out my phone and texted Vivian: "Got your food tribute—too generous! But next time skip Li's—that morning line stretches halfway across town. Way too much hassle!"

Vivian replied instantly: "I didn't buy them."

I froze. Looking back at Julian, he had already buried his face in his arms, only the bright red tips of his ears visible.

So he was the one who'd stood in that ridiculous line at dawn.

This awkward, thoughtful boy.

But peaceful routines never last. That afternoon, as I exited the main building, Lucas intercepted me. He looked terrible—dark circles under his eyes, his voice raw with emotion:

"Aurora, why are you ignoring my calls and messages?"

He had been blowing up my phone for days, but I hadn't responded to a single attempt.

I met his gaze directly: "Because I've been avoiding you."

My words hit him like a physical blow. He actually staggered, his face draining of color. "Avoiding me? Why? Because I'm a Beta? Do you look down on me now that you've got your Alpha?"

Again with the identity politics. I was too exhausted to argue, about to snap back when a cool voice cut in from behind me.

Julian. He had materialized beside me like a silent sentinel.

"Lucas," he said, meeting the other boy's eyes directly, his tone calm but firm, "don't use Alpha or Beta status to create division. Aurora doesn't look down on anyone. We're classmates—we should support each other, not tear each other down."

I stared at him in shock. This was the longest speech I'd ever heard from him—logical, measured, neither aggressive nor submissive. Like a true protector.

Lucas was equally stunned, his mouth opening but no words emerging.

"What are you doing? Class started five minutes ago!" Teacher Zhang's voice cracked like thunder, effectively ending our confrontation before it could escalate further.

Under Teacher Zhang's stern glare, we reluctantly dispersed.

Back in the classroom, I noticed Julian seemed deflated. Though he'd stood up for me, the confrontation had clearly taken its toll. His shoulders drooped, his pheromones radiating fatigue.

I leaned closer, nudged his arm gently, and whispered: "Hey… thanks for before. You were amazing."

I deliberately released a gentle wave of calming sweet orange pheromone, hoping to soothe him. He seemed to sense it immediately, his tense frame gradually unwinding.