Edward Parker was fuming inside but didn’t dare vent his anger. He could only grit his teeth, endure the pain, push himself up from the ground, and turn to walk out of the restroom.

His eyes were dark and gloomy, full of resentment and hatred.

Screw him, just wait—so long as you haven’t differentiated into a high-level Alpha, I’ll always have ways to take you down.

He limped around the corner, only to find someone standing in the shadows—a tall, slender figure with a cold aura. Even just the silhouette exuded an oppressive presence.

The very next second, before he could even see the person’s face clearly, he was forced to his knees, clutching his head in agony, overwhelmed by a sudden, powerful pheromone suppression.

-

After taking care of his physical needs, Ethan Brooks strolled leisurely back to Class 1 of Senior Year 3.

Ethan Grant was already standing at the door with his backpack, waiting.

When he saw him approach, he turned his head slightly and spoke the first words since their long-awaited reunion: “Did you bring an umbrella?”

Ethan Brooks lifted his chin and pointed at the umbrella basket outside the classroom.

Ethan Grant followed his gaze. Inside lay a black umbrella with a gold-embossed handle, sporting a prominent logo—exquisite, luxurious, and ostentatious.

It really did look like something that belonged to him.

This guy really hasn’t changed much.

Ethan Grant glanced at him again and said slowly, “I didn’t bring one.”

Hearing those three words, Ethan Brooks immediately perked up: “Come on, call me daddy, let’s hear it?”

“……”

Ethan Grant shot him a look, then lifted his leg, ready to walk out into the rain.

Ethan Brooks quickly called after him, “Hey, hey, hey! Forget it… Who told you your bro Song here is soft-hearted and kind? You can owe me that ‘daddy’ for now.”

They still had to go to Grant Grandpa’s house for dinner tonight. Letting the grandson show up drenched like a drowned rat—how ungracious would that be?

Raindrops drummed on the black fabric, crackling like an endless percussion symphony.

Ethan Brooks walked with his back straight and shoulders squared, but for some reason, he just had this lazy, unhurried air about him—like a young master from a wealthy family in olden times, out strolling with his pets.

Ethan Grant wasn’t exactly the impatient type, but sharing an umbrella with him was honestly a bit uncomfortable.

As they neared the school gate, he finally couldn’t hold back: “Can you hold the umbrella a little higher?”

“?”

“I know you’re short, but I don’t think that stops you from raising the umbrella five centimeters higher.”

“Who the hell are you calling—” Ethan Brooks turned his head angrily, only to find his gaze lined up perfectly with Ethan Grant’s nose.

“……”

Looking up, a dangling bead under the umbrella’s ribs brushed aside a lock of Ethan Grant’s light chestnut hair.

He was 1.83 meters tall, standing right in the center of the umbrella where there was the most space—just right.

Ethan Grant was about five centimeters taller, but standing near the edge of the umbrella, it was a bit of a squeeze.

But hey, who told him to be so tall?

And wait, this guy was actually taller than him?

Young Master Jian suddenly felt a surge of inexplicable frustration: “Take it or leave it, you’re just spoiled.”

With that, he strode ahead with the umbrella and quickly got into a Bentley parked by the roadside.

He was actually quite tall himself, but it was all about proportions. As he got in, the hem of his shirt was accidentally caught by his belt, revealing the firm lines of his well-trained hips and a pair of long, straight legs.

Ethan Grant looked for a couple of seconds, then the corners of his mouth lifted in a barely noticeable arc.

He really was quite precious.

Author’s note:

Hmm, precious indeed. Wonder who’ll get to enjoy that in the future.

Chapter 3

Ethan Brooks habitually took the back seat, while Ethan Grant, for some reason, sat in the front passenger seat.

He looked at Ethan Grant’s slightly damp, tousled hair at the back of his head, finally feeling a bit more comfortable. He slouched lazily in the leather seat, pulled out his phone, and opened the WeChat group chat [Two As and One O].

William Turner: [Is Ethan Grant really back?]

Ethan Brooks: [Yeah]

Little Logan: [Song bro, check out the First High School forum!]

Ethan Brooks: [You think I’m that bored?]

William Turner: [The First High School forum is about to explode because Ethan Grant is back]

Little Logan: [Seriously, Song bro, our school hasn’t reacted much, but First High is really blowing up. This new transfer big shot seems to have a lot of cultural and historical depth]

Ethan Brooks: [Is this how all you liberal arts students talk?]

Though Ethan Brooks said he wasn’t interested, he still switched out of WeChat and opened the First High School forum webpage.

It really was blowing up.

Twenty posts per page, ten with Ethan Grant’s name, five calling him a big shot.

The hottest post was titled [That Man, He’s Back].

Clicking in, the main post featured a photo of Ethan Grant at the south gate of the school.

He stood in the rain with an umbrella, his crisp white shirt highlighting the broad shoulders and slim waist of an Alpha, his legs impossibly long, and the exposed ankle slender and strong, bones clearly defined.

Taller, more mature, and more dominant than at fourteen, with only that tiny mole under his eye unchanged.

Main post caption: That man, after leaving Nancheng for three years, has returned, and is even more perfect than before.

[My male god is back!! I can live again!!]

[The most A Alpha in Nancheng is finally back! My secret crush didn’t end in BE]