Afternoon in Haicheng. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows at the end of the corridor, casting a mosaic of fragmented, shimmering shadows across the polished marble floor. During the mid-session break, the stagnant air inside the grand academic hall was swept away by the draft in this transparent gallery, as the sea breeze—carrying the scent of moist greenery—stealing into every corner.
Silas Shen stood by the terrace, a cup of hotel-provided hot coffee in his hand. He shifted his posture, leaning against a cream-white stone pillar, his gaze wandering over the distant, sparkling surface of the sea. His fingertips mindlessly stroked the rim of the white porcelain cup.
This was his habitual gesture when deep in thought. However, at this moment, what flashed through his mind was not a complex genetic model, but the high-spirited silhouette in deep navy blue who, just moments ago in the center of the hall, had rendered foreign experts speechless with his fluent English.
"Professor!"
A voice laced with laughter shattered the tranquility of the corridor.
Silas turned his head to see Hunter Huo striding toward him.
Having been out of Silas's sight for only a short while, the "puppy" had already completely broken character. The impeccably tailored suit jacket that had made him look so heroic was now draped carelessly over his arm. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small patch of firm skin that radiated the warmth of the sun. Even that formal silk tie had been tugged loose, hanging crookedly around his neck and swaying slightly with his stride.
This look possessed both the sexual pressure of an adult Alpha and the rebellious, lazy charm of a youth.
"Professor, hiding out here for some peace and quiet?" Hunter came to a halt beside him, his body naturally leaning a fraction toward Silas. Under the sweep of the sea breeze, the scent of sun-drenched oranges felt even more refreshing.
Silas lowered his lashes and took a sip of his coffee, his tone remaining unreadable. "It was crowded in the hall. I came out for some air."
Hunter gave a chuckle, his body nearly pressing against the same stone pillar Silas leaned on. He stared at Silas with bright, sparkling eyes, looking like a puppy begging for a bone—his "tail" practically wagging into a blur. "Professor, about my performance on stage just now... you haven't given me a formal evaluation yet. So, how was it? I didn't embarrass you, did I?"
He asked directly, his tone carrying a blatant sense of smugness, yet somehow, it wasn't the least bit annoying.
Silas's hand tightened slightly around the coffee cup. He remembered the applause that had filled the hall, the envy in the eyes of the veteran professors, and his heart skipped a beat again. On the surface, however, he maintained his frost-cold demeanor, simply uttering two words:
"Not bad."
"Only 'not bad'?" Hunter feigned disappointment, his shoulders slumping as he grumbled, "I spent half a month buried in original literature for this moment. My fingers were practically raw from flipping pages."
As he spoke, he performed a sort of magic trick, pulling a piece of gold-lettered chocolate from his pocket and holding it out to Silas. "Here, Professor. Listening to reports is brain-taxing; get some sugar in you."
Silas didn't take it. He merely glanced down at the chocolate.
"No need." He paused, and as if sensing his tone was too harsh, he added, "The questions you raised were very deep. Your logic is more solid than it usually is in the lab."
This was already an exceptionally high-standard compliment from Professor Shen.
Hunter's drooping eyes snapped wide open. He couldn't suppress the grin that revealed a cute little canine tooth. Satisfied, he peeled the chocolate and popped it into his mouth, his gaze drifting casually toward the white porcelain cup in Silas's hand.
Suddenly, Hunter's movements froze.
Because Silas happened to take another sip at that moment, the cup tilted slightly. A flash of white crystalline residue and a unique, milky sweet aroma drifted through the air for a split second.
As a top-tier Alpha, Hunter's sense of smell was terrifyingly acute. He distinctly smelled that this cup of coffee—which should have been bitter and cold black coffee—was loaded with rich sugar and cream.
It was the scent... of exactly two sugar cubes.
In this world, very few people knew Silas Shen's coffee "taboos." In the lab, he always drank an undiluted espresso—no sugar, no milk—so bitter it made people question their existence. He claimed it was to keep his mind clear.
Yet "two sugars, one cream" was Hunter's own stubborn preference in the dorm, on the court, and through every late night spent writing papers.
Hunter's heart skipped a violent beat.
He remembered a time in the lab when he had brought Silas a cup, only for the Professor to frown and push it away with disdain, calling it "sugar water for children."
But now, in Haicheng, over a thousand kilometers from Beijing, at the end of a corridor where they were the only two people, Silas had secretly ordered a cup of this very "sugar water" while he was alone.
"Professor..." Hunter's voice suddenly dropped, carrying a suppressed, scorching magnetism.
The way he called out made Silas's heart flutter with panic. He instinctively tried to turn away. "The meeting is about to resume. Let's go."
"Professor, your coffee... is it good?" Hunter took a step, blocking his path.
Silas's grip on the cup tightened as he forced himself to stay composed. "The hotel provided it. The taste is mediocre."
"Is that so?" Hunter lowered his head, leaning close to Silas's ear. This distance was too close—close enough for Silas to feel the warmth of the other's breath and the domineering possessiveness unique to an Alpha.
Hunter stared at Silas's ear, which was already flushing crimson. His voice carried a wicked, low-pitched chuckle. "But why do I smell something... very familiar in this cup? Two sugars, one creamer. Professor, when did you change your taste?"
Silas's breath hitched.
He was like a cat whose secret had been exposed, instantly raising every defense. He didn't even dare look up into Hunter's eyes—eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything.
Why did I add sugar?
Was it because the embrace last night was too warm? Or because the man on the stage today was too dazzling?
Or perhaps, through some subconscious osmosis, his rigid glacier had begun to crave a bit of the other man's sweetness under the envelopment of that scorching orange scent?
"I'll change my taste whenever I want. Do I need to submit a report to you for approval?" Silas snapped coldly. Avoiding Hunter's gaze, he brushed past him with quick steps.
This time, the rhythm of his stride was visibly frazzled.
Hunter stood in place, watching Silas's slightly disheveled back. He wanted to laugh, but for some reason, the bridge of his nose felt a sharp sting of emotion.
He knew that Professor Shen—the man who always sealed himself behind experimental data, the Silas Shen who never let anyone into his private territory—was tearing down his high walls brick by brick, just for him. Even his habits were gravitating toward Hunter's.
This wavering was more heart-shaking to Hunter than any violent marking.
Hunter tore his tie off completely, stuffing it into his suit pocket. The tenderness in his eyes was overflowing. He whispered a sentence meant only for his own ears:
"Silas Shen, you're finished."
He hurried to catch up, his voice becoming light and airy again. "Professor! Wait for me! I didn't get to say it earlier, but I actually wanted to say—the way your grey cardigan matches my blue suit... we look a lot like we're wearing a couple's outfit."
"Shut up!"
"Roger that. I'll shut up once we get back to the hotel."
At the end of the corridor, Silas's steady back visibly jolted at the words "couple's outfit."
And no one noticed that Silas held onto that empty coffee cup, carrying it all the way back into the hall—as if he were loath to throw away that lingering bit of sweetness named "Hunter Huo."