ATAVID CH123

Suddenly, the doctor’s words floated into Jiang Qunyu’s mind.

The doctor had said that after Wei Xun’s memory became jumbled, what he exhibited was what he feared most deep in his heart.

Coupled with the fact that he intentionally hid their marriage certificates, it couldn’t be that he was afraid of them getting a divorce, right?

A trace of strangeness slipped through Jiang Qunyu’s heart.

In fact, counting it up, he and Wei Xun had only been married for a year and a half—and before Wei Xun lost his memory, it had only been a single year.

To be honest, if Wei Xun hadn’t lost his memory and shown so many sides that Jiang Qunyu never knew before, perhaps Jiang Qunyu would never have known that Wei Xun was actually this kind of person.

His expectations for love had always been very simple. If two people were together without even understanding each other’s true nature, how could it be considered loving each other?

The past Wei Xun was too perfect, so perfect that it was like a meticulously crafted mask.

They would hug, kiss, and do the most intimate things, yet there was always an indescribable layer of distance separating them in Jiang Qunyu’s heart. He had never understood why such a lukewarm and unfamiliar relationship was worth Wei Xun secretly hiding the marriage certificates away like a precious treasure.

There was also the past—relying on Wei Xun’s outstanding looks and prominent family background, no matter how one put it, he shouldn’t have reached the point of blind-dating him. Not to mention, back then they had only met once, yet Wei Xun quickly proposed marriage.

Jiang Qunyu had rejected it without even thinking at the time.

Yet ever since then, strange things followed one after another. Every single person he met on subsequent blind dates, without exception, ended their contact hastily for all kinds of outrageous and forced reasons. After going around in a big circle, he ended up getting involved with Wei Xun again.

Compared to the Wei family, Jiang Qunyu didn’t think there was anything about him worth Wei Xun plotting for.

If one were to strip away external possessions, the only thing Wei Xun seemed obsessed with from beginning to end was him as a person.

It couldn’t be that Wei Xun fell in love with him at first sight, right? That would be way too ridiculous.

The more Jiang Qunyu pondered, the more his head hurt. Flipping through all the causes and effects, he couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for Wei Xun’s abnormal behavior.

To make matters worse, Wei Xun’s memory hadn’t recovered yet. Even if he asked out loud, the other party would most likely know nothing about it.

Jiang Qunyu had no choice but to give up for the time being.

When he put that exercise booklet back, he suddenly paused.

Why did he feel that this exercise booklet looked so familiar?

But after wracking his brain, he still couldn’t find any memory related to this exercise booklet in his mind.

Forget it, he should just go back to sleep.

Tomorrow’s matters could be dealt with tomorrow.

Carrying such thoughts, Jiang Qunyu ambled back to the bedroom.

The moment he lay down into the covers, a pair of strong, scalding arms reached over directly in the next instant, pulling his whole body firmly into an embrace.

The arrival of the rut period made the Alpha’s body temperature higher than usual. Jiang Qunyu felt like he had turned into a ball of cotton roasted by fire, about to melt.

Not knowing when Wei Xun had woken up, the dark night and the Beta’s departure greatly exacerbated the anxiety and insecurity of the Alpha in rut.

The Alpha could only hold the Beta tightly, canine teeth lightly biting the back of Jiang Qunyu’s neck time after time, greedily absorbing the clean, gentle scent on him to forcibly suppress the restless pheromones inside his body.

During the rut period, Jiang Qunyu had always been very indulgent toward Wei Xun.

He also hugged him back, allowing Wei Xun to act tyrannically against his neck.

“Do you want to do it?” Jiang Qunyu asked.

Wei Xun’s movements paused. In the next instant, kisses fell like a blanket.

A night of lingering affection. Fortunately, there was no need to go to work the next day, so Jiang Qunyu could sleep in.

Long time no see, he actually had a dream.

In the dream, it seemed to be summer. But it hadn’t reached August or September yet; in June, the weather wasn’t too hot yet.

There were always never-ending cicada chirps by his ear, and sometimes a cool summer breeze would blow. The wind brushed past the plain white gauze curtain outside the back window of the high school classroom, landing on the face of the youth sleeping flat on his desk in the back. It felt a bit itchy. Jiang Qunyu was so sleepy that he subconsciously changed positions and continued to sleep.

“Jiang Qunyu, are you going to the internet cafe next period?”

Beside him, Tao Mingxiao moved nimbly, one hand reaching into the desk drawer to messily rummage for test papers, the other hand holding the backpack on his knees, stuffing the papers inside indiscriminately.

After packing up, he immediately turned his head and gently nudged the drowsy, sleeping Jiang Qunyu with his elbow.

“If you’re not going, I’ll go by myself. Doesn’t playing in the league require enough points? Do you have enough points?”

His voice was honestly too noisy, making it completely impossible for Jiang Qunyu to sleep any longer.

He listlessly raised his head from his arms, rubbed his messy hair, a layer of mist from just waking up still veiling his eyes, his voice carrying a lazy hoarseness: “Next period is PE class?”

“Yeah,” Tao Mingxiao turned his head to look at him. The youth’s hair was messy and soft, instead setting off his brows and eyes to look even more handsome and refined. He urged, “Are you going or not?”

“Going.” Jiang Qunyu let out a yawn, picking up his bag and starting to stuff papers in as well.

Unable to go through the main school gate, Jiang Qunyu and Tao Mingxiao could only choose to climb out from the south gate. There were no surveillance cameras installed there, and they had always climbed out from there in the past.

He was considered a regular here. Every time he pressed both hands against the top of the wall, he could climb over with just a bit of force.

Unexpectedly, an accident happened this time.

The director of the Dean’s Office was squatting outside catching class skippers. Tao Mingxiao climbed down first, letting out an “OW!” wail before running while shouting frantically: “Director! I really won’t dare to do it next time! Can you please not catch me!”

Jiang Qunyu, who was just about to climb over: “…”

Just as he was about to retract his hands resting on the edge of the wall, his eyelids twitched violently. On the other side of the wall, the Dean’s Office director’s pair of dark hands swung up onto the wall as well.

Just a fraction off, he would have awkwardly laced fingers with the director.

Jiang Qunyu’s heart suddenly jumped into his throat, so terrified his mind went blank. Without thinking, he turned, pulled his legs, and sprinted wildly back inside the campus.

In the next second, the seasoned director cleanly flipped over the wall and landed, a wooden paddle tucked under his arm, his thunderous roar penetrating the air: “I saw you! Stop right there! If you don’t stop, once caught you’re going straight to the flag-raising platform to read a self-criticism in front of all the teachers and students!”

Pfft!

Self-criticism my foot!

As long as he doesn’t catch me, can’t I just deny it to the death?

Exerting force beneath his feet, he ran lightning fast.

However, the Dean’s Office director was clearly a veteran at catching class skippers. Over forty years old, his steps were nevertheless steady and fierce, sticking right behind him in hot pursuit.

While panting, Jiang Qunyu thought to himself that if he had known better, he wouldn’t have listened to Tao Mingxiao and constantly skipped PE class before! It was all retribution!

Flustered and rushing to a corner with no sense of direction, he caught sight of the back door of a classroom left ajar.

The classroom was empty, with only a tall, upright youth sitting alone at the window seat, brows and eyes lowered, quietly solving problems with his head down—exuding a cold and detached air all over.

Jiang Qunyu was completely out of breath. At this life-or-death moment, there was no time to think much. He rushed in lightly, plopped down opposite the youth, folded his hands together in a humble and urgent posture, and whispered rapidly: “Emergency rescue! Emergency rescue! Help me out!”

Saying that, he quickly picked up another unused pen beside the desk, leaned close to the tabletop, and pretended to frown and ponder over the exercise, deliberately lowering his voice to act as if discussing a problem: “…So the coordinate system is built here, right?”

Just as he finished saying that forced sentence, heavy footsteps came from the doorway.

The Dean’s Office director walked into the classroom with his hands on his hips, panting heavily. His eyes scanned back and forth, muttering non-stop: “Where did that brat run off to? Sure runs fast.”

His gaze quickly fell upon the two people in their seats. The director frowned and questioned out loud: “What class does your class have this period? Why aren’t you in class?”

The youth beside him remained silent throughout.

Jiang Qunyu lowered his eyes, held his breath, and tensed his whole body, not even daring to take a single loud breath, his heart pounding wildly.

Finally, seeing that the director was about to walk closer, the chilly youth finally spoke up.

His voice was clean, deep, and exceptionally pleasant to the ear, sounding slowly in the quiet classroom: “They went to PE class.”

The director asked: “What’s your name? Why didn’t you go?”

“Wei Xun.” The youth’s tone was flat, his expression devoid of ups and downs. “Feeling unwell, took leave.”

The director paused, his strict expression from moments ago instantly softening, his attitude taking what could be called a 180-degree turn: “Ah, it’s the rank one student of the senior year! Since it’s you, it’s fine then. You two study peacefully.”

After saying that, the director walked out.

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

His expression honestly couldn’t be called good-looking. Drooping his brows and eyes, he looked at the director walking far away and nearly vomited blood in anger.

So what? Having good grades is so amazing, huh!

Perhaps because his reaction was too intense, the corner of Wei Xun’s lips curled into an extremely faint arch.

Jiang Qunyu saw it, and for some reason felt that this guy was mocking him.

However, he had just received his help, so turning against him right now would be too embarrassing. He could only say reluctantly: “Thanks.”

“No need.” Wei Xun took back the pen from his hand.

“Yes need, yes need.” Jiang Qunyu rested his hand backward on the back of the chair, straddling it casually. The competitive spirit and slight pride in the youth’s bones flared up, wanting to win back a bit of face in front of Wei Xun.

He raised his chin and promised earnestly: “I’m super good at playing video games. I’ll definitely win this league match. When I get the trophy, I’ll give it to you as a thank-you gift.”

As his words fell, he got up nimbly, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and left the classroom he had accidentally broken into amidst Wei Xun’s slightly dazed expression.

Later, Jiang Qunyu did indeed win that league match, smoothly taking the championship trophy.

Only that promise was light as a feather, tossed behind his mind in a turn of his head by complicated schoolwork and play.

And that trophy that was supposed to be given to Wei Xun was ultimately taken away by Tao Mingxiao in confusion, failing to be delivered to the hands of that youth he had only met once by chance.

The summer of that year flashed by, and along with it, the unfulfilled promise became extraordinarily blurred.

Yet because of an out-of-place high school mathematics exercise booklet, Jiang Qunyu recalled it after a long time.

After remaining silent on the bed for several minutes, he finally climbed up. Sitting on the bed, he suddenly wanted to talk to Wei Xun very much.

Turns out he and Wei Xun had met so early on, yet Wei Xun had surprisingly never mentioned it.

And back then, he hadn’t given him the trophy he promised.

Pity that Wei Xun forgot his past memories; otherwise, he could have asked Wei Xun if he already liked him back then.

Jiang Qunyu let his thoughts wander randomly. But as he thought about it, what the doctor had said during their follow-up visit last week echoed in his ear again—

“Logically speaking, his memory should have already recovered. Perhaps everyone’s constitution differs, so the symptoms vary as well. Let’s observe for another period of time.”

Had Wei Xun’s memory really not recovered yet?

Jiang Qunyu became somewhat suspicious again.

He sat cross-legged, resting one hand on his knee to prop up his face while looking at Wei Xun.

He suddenly spoke up: “I found our marriage certificates last night.”

As the words fell, the steady breathing of Wei Xun beside him subtly messed up its rhythm for an unnoticeable moment.

Jiang Qunyu pretended not to notice, continuing to test the waters in a flat tone: “I originally thought they couldn’t be found, but since they’re still around, there’s no need to reissue them. When you wake up, let’s take time to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau to handle the divorce.”

Wei Xun’s thick, dense eyelashes trembled.

Jiang Qunyu acted completely oblivious: “By the way, after the divorce, I’ll just go find Tao Mingxiao. I remember back in high school…”

Pity that before he could finish speaking, Jiang Qunyu’s wrist was suddenly gripped tightly by a hand.

Following that hand looking up, he bumped straight into Wei Xun’s deep, dark eyes. Expressionless, he pulled Jiang Qunyu into his arms, encircling him tightly, saying in a dark, chilly tone: “Jiang Qunyu, if you talk nonsense again, I’ll kiss you until you shut up.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

Before he could speak, Wei Xun continued uttering harsh threats: “You didn’t give me the trophy you promised me, so you can only compensate me with yourself. If you dare abandon me to go find Tao Mingxiao, I will definitely make you regret your decision.”

Jiang Qunyu sneered: “When did you recover your memory?”

He was actually just guessing, and even found it quite funny that Tao Mingxiao was the imaginary Alpha Wei Xun had conjured up.

Wei Xun had still been making harsh threats, but hearing this, he froze.

He blinked, the prickles erected all over his body submissively retracting. After a moment of silence, he went to bite Jiang Qunyu’s neck: “He doesn’t cook as well as I do.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…Oh, okay.”

Wei Xun: “He’s not as rich as me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s not as tall as me, nor as good-looking as me.”

“Oh.”

Wei Xun clearly wasn’t hearing the answer he wanted. He pressed his lips together and stopped talking, sulking all by himself, yet refusing to let go of Jiang Qunyu either.

Jiang Qunyu let him hold him, but within a few minutes, Jiang Qunyu couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Curving his eyes in laughter, he raised his head to kiss Wei Xun’s lips, explaining: “He and I are just friends. Wei Xun, why do you have so many imaginary enemies?”

Jiang Qunyu said with a giggle: “I only like you.”

Wei Xun froze for a long while before hugging Jiang Qunyu even tighter: “I love you.”

Outside the window, the morning light was gentle, time passed silently, and they still had a very, very long time to fall in love slowly.

(End of ABO Arc)