“The situation is as follows: according to your description, you have been in an unpresented state. Your gland was essentially underdeveloped. By marking him, you injected glandular fluid containing high-purity pheromones into his system, forcibly inducing presentation. This is rare, but it happens, usually only between Alphas and Omegas with a compatibility rate of over 98%.”

“So, am I now completely presented as an Omega?” Su Hui asked softly.

“Correct. However…” The doctor paused, took a form from the printer, and signed it without looking at them. “You presented too late; your sexual characteristics are underdeveloped, so your reproductive cavity is much smaller than the average Omega’s. You need to be very careful.”

Both of them remained silent.

The doctor kept writing without looking up. “Did you take any precautions?”

Su Hui couldn’t bring himself to speak, his lips pressed shut.

Ning Yixiao said in a low voice, “No.”

The doctor glanced at him, then returned his gaze to the forms, printing out a new list. “You should get tested anyway, just to be safe.”

“There is redness, inflammation, and skin lesions on both the cavity opening and the gland. I’m prescribing anti-inflammatory medication; the instructions are written here. Pay and pick it up on the first floor.”

The doctor handed the prescription to Ning Yixiao and warned him, “And you—look at what you’ve done. Look at the marks on his body. A newly presented Omega is fragile in every way; this was entirely inappropriate. You were in your rut, which is naturally destructive. I know you didn’t mean it, and I know young people today are reckless, but you really need to learn some restraint.”

The nurse nearby couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “Just two days ago, we had a couple here—their first time almost resulted in a permanent marking, and they were crying and wailing for half a day when they tested positive for pregnancy.”

Su Hui’s ears turned redder the more he heard. He climbed off the bed, bowed to the doctor, and scurried out like a wooden puppet.

The doctor advised Ning Yixiao, “A newly presented Omega will have significant emotional swings. Remember to comfort him.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Ning Yixiao quickly caught up to him and held his arm. “Slow down. Is it still hurting?”

Su Hui just wanted to find a hole to crawl into.

Fortunately, the test results came back negative.

Su Hui breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly fell into a strange, inexplicable sense of disappointment. Not being pregnant was for the best—otherwise, how could he face Ning Yixiao? They were only senior and junior; if he really were pregnant, how could he go back to school?

Afraid Ning Yixiao might be worried, he showed him the paper, smiling. “See? Not that much of a coincidence. That would have been a disaster.”

The bench outside the hospital was cold, and the wind blew leaves onto Su Hui’s shoulder. Ning Yixiao stood before him, showing no relief, only raising his hand to brush the leaf away.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

Su Hui vaguely remembered something from his dream. Ning Yixiao had said that the words he hated hearing most were “sorry” and “apologies.” Su Hui suddenly understood why.

“If I hadn’t said I wanted to be bitten, none of this would have happened.”

As he said this, Su Hui’s sense of disappointment grew. Ning Yixiao handled the situation so lightly, as if all Su Hui had to do was say he forgave him, and everything could be treated as if it never happened. Though Su Hui knew that acting as if it never happened was indeed the best way to handle it.

“It’s okay,” Su Hui managed a forced smile, looking up at him, pretending not to care. “I was just relying on the fact that I was a Beta and didn’t know my own limits. I was the one who asked you to bite me; I was being reckless. You don’t need to worry about it.”

After he finished, a brief silence fell between them, filled only by the sound of the wind.

“Then…” Ning Yixiao started but stopped.

Now that Su Hui knew he was an Omega, he couldn’t stay in the mixed-gender dorm, nor could he continue to be Ning Yixiao’s roommate. In fact, in his most dazed and chaotic moments, Su Hui had realized it. Held in Ning Yixiao’s arms, he had thought of the worst possible outcomes, begging him again and again. Because he liked him too much, he wanted to hold onto a little more—not just because of his special state, but because Ning Yixiao was special.

He knew there might not be a second time.

After a long silence, they spoke at the exact same moment.

“I’ll go apply for a dorm change later…” / “Would you like to go out with me?”

They froze, looking at each other.

Su Hui, in the midst of his manic phase, had a quick mind and reacted first, but felt flustered. “G-go out? You… Ning Yixiao, you don’t need to be troubled by yesterday. I really don’t feel any different. You don’t need to be responsible for me; it was an accident—just an accident.”

Ning Yixiao crouched down slightly, looking up at Su Hui. “This isn’t about responsibility.”

His voice was deep, his tone gentle. “Su Hui, I like you. I liked you even before you presented. It has nothing to do with ruts, heats, or pheromones. I need you—that’s why I used your clothes to build a nest, even though I couldn’t feel a thing.”

Su Hui looked at him in disbelief, unable to say a word.

“I’m not very good at expressing myself. If you were hoping for a romantic confession, I might… disappoint you. Even so, I want you to know exactly how I feel.”

Ning Yixiao was earnest. “I know it’s abrupt to say this now, especially when you’re unwell because of me, but when I make up my mind, I want to fight for it. It’s okay if you refuse; I can wait longer…”

Before he could finish, Su Hui hugged him, burying his face in his shoulder, instinctively releasing sweet pheromones due to his excitement.

“I don’t want to refuse,” Su Hui said, muffled.

Ning Yixiao was surprised by the answer. “Does that mean… you’re willing to go out with me?”

Su Hui nodded, his tone childlike. “Mm. I like you, too—a little earlier than you liked me.”

Ning Yixiao didn’t fully believe that, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, he felt an uncontrollable joy. He couldn’t help but hug Su Hui back, cherishing the moment.

Su Hui listened to Ning Yixiao say so much, the first time he had ever heard him speak with such sincerity. There wasn’t a single flowery word, but when he heard the phrase “a relationship that won’t have regrets,” he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

In that moment, he thought of his illness. If there had to be one person who would regret this, it wouldn’t be him.

As they left, Ning Yixiao glanced at the pregnancy test once more before folding it into his pocket. “You must have been terrified during the exam, right? I didn’t prepare anything, and I let things get out of hand.”

Su Hui lowered his head. It was all at his own request. He whispered, “Actually, I wasn’t that scared.”

“You were so scared you took medication,” Ning Yixiao said softly. “I didn’t even expect you to be carrying medicine.”

Su Hui didn’t understand. “What medicine?”

Ning Yixiao paused. “Before we left this morning…”

Su Hui suddenly realized.

“That wasn’t that kind of medicine.” His throat felt dry as he hesitated, struggling with his feelings.

The manic phase gave him a surge of courage he didn’t usually possess. He knew he shouldn’t hide things; honesty was the foundation of a relationship. But he was terrified of the fleeting nature of something he had just barely attained.

Ning Yixiao sensed his hesitation and smiled. “It’s fine. Don’t be nervous.”

He intentionally released some pheromones to soothe Su Hui. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of fir far into the distance.

Su Hui stopped walking, staying where he was.

“Ning Yixiao, I have Bipolar Disorder.”

It was the first time in his life he had voluntarily confessed the thing he found most difficult to speak about.

Ning Yixiao turned around and repeated it. “Bipolar?”

Su Hui nodded. “Also known as manic-depressive illness—it’s a mental illness.” His mind was a mess, and he spoke too quickly, explaining a great deal. He felt that Ning Yixiao probably hadn’t understood, and he felt a sense of self-defeat. “Just… if you can’t accept it, we can just act like everything I just said never happened.”

Ning Yixiao was silent for a moment, but every second felt like torture to Su Hui. He wanted to turn and run, just like he had in the ultrasound room.

But Ning Yixiao grabbed his wrist first. “I think I understand. This is indeed a serious matter. I will research it thoroughly and try my best to do better.”

Su Hui frowned. “I’m the one who’s sick, not you.”

Ning Yixiao smiled. “But I have to take care of you, so of course I need to be careful.”

Su Hui felt a lump in his throat and looked away. “Ning Yixiao, your brain is different from everyone else’s.”

“As long as it’s the same as yours, that’s enough,” Ning Yixiao said, his voice laced with a smile.

Su Hui had never imagined that confessing his illness wouldn’t result in abandonment, controversy, or just pity. It was hard to define Ning Yixiao’s reaction. The only words that fit were “like” and “love.” He felt that Ning Yixiao was being far too naive and simple about the disease, but Su Hui himself was also a naive person who felt that as long as they were firm enough, they could get through anything.

“I’ve decided,” Su Hui said on the way back. “I’m going to keep pretending to be a Beta.”

“How?”

Su Hui’s tone was innocent. “I’ll just wear a suppressant patch every day. That way I won’t leak pheromones, and during special periods, you can just give me a temporary mark. That should keep people fooled.”

He held onto Ning Yixiao’s arm. “I don’t want to move out. Can we not separate?”

Ning Yixiao looked at him and nodded, almost unconsciously. He didn’t like the word “separate.”

“What about your family? They’ll find out eventually.”

“Them?” Su Hui paused. “They aren’t that attentive to me, and I don’t want them to know I’ve presented.”

“Why?”

Su Hui lowered his eyes, unsure how to answer. If his grandfather found out he had presented as an Omega instead of an Alpha, he would only feel disappointed. And he would definitely force him into arranged dates with “well-bred” Alphas—just the thought was suffocating.

“We’ll just take it one step at a time,” Su Hui said, smiling up at him as if he had no worries at all.

His nape was still bandaged, and he couldn’t go back to school like that. Ning Yixiao had to go to the pharmacy for him to buy suppressant patches.

“Give me the most expensive ones, the ones less likely to cause an allergic reaction.”

A single patch cost more than several bottles of Ning Yixiao’s low-quality Alpha suppressants, but he paid without a second thought.

When he came out, Su Hui was leaning against a streetlamp, eating ice cream. The way he licked it reminded Ning Yixiao of the memory etched in his mind: his muffled voice, crying out softly only when it hurt, like a cat; his unfocused pupils, the streams of tears.

The Su Hui now was different, displaying a high level of enthusiasm, even if he needed to lean on him just to have the strength to walk.

When he helped him apply the patch, Ning Yixiao felt the sweet scent of his skin again, his curled knuckles unable to resist brushing against the red, swollen bite mark.

Su Hui let out a sound like a kitten, covering his neck and glaring at him as if complaining.

“It’s not stuck yet.”

Ning Yixiao lowered his head, stopped teasing him, and carefully applied the patch.

Pretending to be a Beta was not the best strategy—especially for someone as strategic as Ning Yixiao, it was full of risks. But because he loved him, he was briefly blinded by it, too.

In front of others, they were close roommates, a senior and junior looking out for each other. Behind the closed door of their dorm, they could be pressed against the wall kissing and marking, taking and giving without limit, lying in bed facing each other sharing secrets, from late summer to early winter.

Seeing Su Hui’s first depressive episode, Ning Yixiao was at a loss, but he gradually learned how to soothe and protect him. During his depressive phase, even Su Hui’s pheromones changed: the lush, sweet cherry wine scent faded, leaving only a heavy smell of rain—the scent of plant roots, soil, and actinomycetes—damp and gloomy.

He could feel nothing, falling into despair and frustration, and pheromonal soothing didn’t have much effect. Ning Yixiao could only hold him, feeling his shallow breathing, accompanying him through every agonizing hour.

As long as he survived it, Su Hui would, in some sudden moment, return to his vibrant self.

Transitioning to his manic phase, Su Hui would often have impulsive ideas—like wanting to see the Manhattanhenge, which happened only twice a year, and wanting to exchange rings with him at the moment the sun shone brightest. Ning Yixiao had never seen it, yet because of Su Hui’s description, he felt as if he were there, truly feeling the fullness of that sunset glow.

When their feelings were at their deepest, Su Hui lay on the campus lawn late at night, looking at the stars, and said he wanted to go to Iceland to see the aurora.

Every small, groundless wish, Ning Yixiao kept in his heart, turning them into a specific to-do list, then slowly adding them to his life plan. For that, he was willing to swim forward like a tuna, never stopping, wanting to make these impossibilities possible, bit by bit.

But there were many things effort could not change.

Just like fir trees could never bear cherries.