Chapter 8
[Little Sharp-Clawed Kitten]: Turn your head away. Don’t stare at me.
So fierce. Lin Song’an curled his lips into a smile.
Obediently, he turned his head to look at the lecturer, putting on a serious expression.
“In this class, we’ve covered the first point of business operational risks: asset commingling. Law students should focus on memorizing the various scenarios of asset commingling; this is an important test point in commercial law. Next class, we’ll discuss the second topic: joint guarantees. Alright, let’s take a break.”
Just as the bell rang.
The teacher stepped down from the podium and greeted Lin Song’an, “Song’an, I heard from your uncle that you’ve already started taking on work at Tianhe Group.”
“Uncle Qin, long time no see,” Lin Song’an nodded politely and smiled. “I wouldn’t say taking over; at most, I’m just following my father around.”
“I saw some news about Tianhe Group a few days ago. I used to think you resembled your mother more, but when I saw that group photo, you look exactly like your father when he was young.”
“Yes, people often say that.”
Professor Qin took a sip of tea. “The case studies we discussed in class—you probably grasp them more intuitively than other students.”
Lin Song’an smiled lightly.
“With so many outstanding alumni, perhaps some interested students will join Tianhe as legal advisors in the future, becoming your right-hand assistants.” Professor Qin suddenly took a step toward Tan Ning. “This student here—you must be from the Law School, right? You’re very active in class discussions, have strong analytical skills, and solid fundamentals. Very good, very good.”
Being praised unexpectedly, Tan Ning was momentarily at a loss.
Professor Qin didn’t notice the deliberately distant atmosphere between Tan Ning and Lin Song’an and continued to find topics to discuss. He asked Lin Song’an, “Are you familiar with this student?”
Lin Song’an raised an eyebrow, seeming to study the side of Tan Ning’s face seriously, then said, “Not very familiar.”
Tan Ning: “…”
“Really? Well, you can get to know each other.”
Professor Qin glanced at the screen of Tan Ning’s laptop. “Look at the notes he’s taken.”
“Oh?”
Realizing something was off, Tan Ning wanted to prevent this, but Lin Song’an had already moved to sit beside him. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped him, making Tan Ning tense up.
In fact, Tan Ning had been curious about Lin Song’an’s pheromone scent before, but he wouldn’t ask or know whom to ask. Once, when Lin Song’an was asleep, he leaned close to his neck and took a sniff. He didn’t smell anything but ended up waking Lin Song’an. Propping himself up, Lin Song’an looked at him with a playful gaze. Tan Ning disliked that look, turned over, and faced away. Moments later, Lin Song’an went to the bathroom and returned with a bottle of cologne, spraying some on Tan Ning’s wrist.
“This is what it smells like.”
Tan Ning couldn’t describe it. It was like light sandalwood, somewhat medicinal and cool. He mumbled, “Doesn’t smell good.”
Pretending to be annoyed, Lin Song’an bit his shoulder.
Tan Ning guessed that Lin Song’an’s pheromone didn’t actually smell like that. After all, he didn’t think anyone would use cologne similar to their own pheromone scent, especially someone like Lin Song’an—a high-ranking alpha with many admirers. Naturally, the fewer people who knew his pheromone scent, the better.
He felt that Lin Song’an was teasing him. But after that day, Tan Ning noticed that Lin Song’an no longer used that light blue-packaged cologne.
The sandalwood scent never appeared on Lin Song’an again.
It was replaced with another scent—a special, faint, soap-like fragrance unique to Lin Song’an. It didn’t seem like a commercially produced cologne. Tan Ning didn’t use such products, so he couldn’t tell. He even thought it might just be the scent of laundry detergent.
Perhaps because betas naturally couldn’t perceive pheromones, their sense of smell was sharper.
Every time, before Tan Ning noticed Lin Song’an’s approach, he would first catch his scent.
This time was the same. The fragrance filled his nose first, then he felt an invisible pressure.
Lin Song’an had sat beside him.
He had just moved over like that.
In the noisy classroom, amid the surprised exclamations of the girls in the second row, as more and more classmates noticed Lin Song’an’s actions and the atmosphere gradually quieted down, Lin Song’an brazenly leaned over. So close that Lin Song’an’s breath gently stirred the ends of Tan Ning’s hair that hung over his shoulder. The probing gazes around them felt like arrows flying toward them, piercing their shoulders as they drew closer. Feeling annoyed, Tan Ning shifted away slightly.
“Let me see,” Lin Song’an deliberately leaned closer, drawing out his words. “Why didn’t you take notes on the section about marital change risks, classmate Tan Ning?”
Tan Ning whispered very softly, “Stay away from me.”
Lin Song’an’s tone became more peculiar, as if speaking to Professor Qin, yet also to Tan Ning. “Classmate Tan Ning doesn’t seem interested in the knowledge point about joint marital property.”
Tan Ning really didn’t want to talk to him and frowned.
In a voice only they could hear, Lin Song’an said, “After not seeing each other for two months, you have nothing else to say to me?”
“No. Stay away from me.”
“Tan Ning.”
“I don’t want to become the target of everyone’s attention because of you.”
Lin Song’an seemed to have anticipated this reaction from Tan Ning, chuckled softly, then naturally leaned back, resting against his chair, and continued chatting with Professor Qin.
Tan Ning took his water cup to refill it with hot water.
“Do you plan to pursue further studies, Song’an?” Professor Qin asked.
“Yes. Although my father wants me to familiarize myself with the company’s operations sooner so he can retire early, I think I can manage both if I arrange my time well.”
“Your father must be very relieved to have a son like you.”
Lin Song’an smiled faintly, his fingertips stroking the stainless steel case of his watch, his gaze falling on Tan Ning’s gray backpack.
His phone vibrated; it was a message from Lei Xin.
Lei Xin: [Bro, come sit in the back. I saved you a seat.]
Lin Song’an replied: [It’s okay, no need.]
Lei Xin: [If I knew this class was so boring, I wouldn’t have signed up with you.]
Lin Song’an: [If you want to leave, let the class monitor know.]
Lei Xin: [No way. I heard there will be outdoor activities next semester. I’m waiting for that.]
Lin Song’an smiled and looked up to continue chatting with Professor Qin. “Uncle Qin, are you still at Pingxing Insurance?”
“No, I left two years ago. I’m now a partner at a law firm in Shanghai, handling several IPO projects. I’m so busy I barely touch the ground.”
Lin Song’an smiled, “Your resume is truly impressive.”
He suddenly pointed at Tan Ning’s laptop. “When this classmate graduates and looks for a job, I’ll have to trouble you to look after him, Uncle Qin.”
Professor Qin originally thought they were strangers, so Lin Song’an’s sudden remark caught him off guard. He quickly said, “Haha, sure, no problem. But with this young classmate’s study attitude, working with me would be beneath his talents.”
Returning with hot water, Tan Ning found Lin Song’an still sitting in the seat beside him.
Professor Qin was on a call in the hallway. Since he wasn’t there, Lin Song’an had no reason to continue sitting here.
Tan Ning heard whispers but couldn’t make out how many people were talking about him and Lin Song’an.
Tan Ning was used to being invisible. He always tried hard to minimize his presence, only occasionally being active in class discussions for the sake of his GPA. Any other time, he remained quiet and distant. Though his efforts to appear transparent seemed gloomy to others, he liked his current state.
Having a casual relationship with Lin Song’an was somewhat out of line, but Tan Ning didn’t think it was a big deal. As long as they stayed out of sight and each got what they needed—it had worked for the past year. He didn’t understand why Lin Song’an had recently been crossing boundaries, catching him off guard time and again.
He sat down.
Lin Song’an asked, “What happened to your hand?”
Tan Ning looked at the long scratch on the back of his hand, then calmly pulled down his sleeve to cover it. “It’s nothing.”
“Where did you fall?”
“The track.”
Lin Song’an frowned slightly, but seeing that Tan Ning didn’t want to continue the topic, he didn’t ask further.
When using his laptop, Tan Ning habitually rested his arm on the armrest beside him. As soon as he placed it down, it bumped into Lin Song’an. Lin Song’an sat casually, his arm over the armrest, pressing against Tan Ning’s, unmoving.
Lin Song’an was tall and well-built. The classroom seats were obviously a bit cramped for him, so even though he was clearly doing it on purpose to bother Tan Ning, others didn’t notice anything unusual.
Tan Ning thought: Childish.
Lin Song’an was wearing short sleeves; Tan Ning was wearing long sleeves. Between them was a layer of cotton fabric, but it couldn’t block each other’s body heat.
It was easy to recall some intimate moments.
“Do you really have nothing to say to me?”
“No.”
“Did you miss me?”
Tan Ning suddenly straightened his back. He knew Lin Song’an’s voice wasn’t loud, and people behind couldn’t hear, but he was still startled, replying irritably, “No.”
The answer was straightforward.
Lin Song’an raised an eyebrow slightly, smiled self-deprecatingly, then got up and returned to his seat.
Only then did Tan Ning breathe a sigh of relief.
The class bell rang. Professor Qin returned to the podium, and the students who had gone out gradually came back and settled down.
Lin Song’an still sat casually in his seat by the aisle, occasionally looking down at his phone, not sure who he was messaging.
Tan Ning didn’t understand the point of Lin Song’an attending the training base. As Professor Qin said, everything in class could find corresponding answers in his family business.
For the countless time, Tan Ning felt that Lin Song’an was a strange person.
After the case study class ended, Tan Song’an left the Business School with his backpack. There was a small forest between the Business School and his dormitory, planted with elms and many camphor trees. In the misty mornings, it was as beautiful as a scenic spot.
But at this hour, it was late, the night was dark, and there was a shorter route to take. Many students gave up on this path.
Soon, Tan Ning was separated from the crowd. He silently walked into the small forest, not saying a word, as if heading back to the dormitory, yet also seeming to search for something, taking a few steps forward.
Lin Song’an grabbed his arm and pulled him into his embrace.
Even though Tan Ning was quite tall, he still wasn’t enough compared to Lin Song’an. When Lin Song’an hugged him, Tan Ning’s cheek always bumped into Lin Song’an’s shoulder, which hurt a bit.
The midsummer night’s breeze passed through the elm forest, dispelling the heat, leaving only silence.
Lin Song’an bit down on Tan Ning’s lips, applying some pressure. Before Tan Ning could pull away, he released his teeth, pressed their foreheads together, and said helplessly, “You really have no heart, Tan Ning. I’ve seen you clearly now.”
Tan Ning felt he should retort something.
But Lin Song’an had already slipped his hand under Tan Ning’s shirt.
