"I... I wasn't being impulsive, I just believe in Ethan Brooks."

After saying this, the young girl blushed, grabbed a couple of random dishes, and ran to the corner.

With so many admirers of Ethan Brooks everywhere, no one was surprised.

Only a tall boy, just coming out of the teachers' cafeteria with his lunchbox, glanced casually toward the corner, then opened his black umbrella and slowly walked into the rain.

-

When Ethan Grant returned to the classroom, Ethan Brooks was talking to an Omega.

He was lounging lazily in his chair, a bag of yogurt dangling from his mouth, with a sandwich and a rice ball in front of him. The Omega was sitting in Henry Clark's seat, helping him unwrap the plastic packaging.

The Omega said something in a low voice—Ethan Grant didn't catch it—but he saw Ethan Brooks's lips suddenly curve up, his brows lifting, and a brilliant smile lighting up his dark eyes, clear and bright, reaching all the way to the bottom, as if he'd just remembered the most dazzling memory from deep within.

It had to be admitted, Ethan Brooks had always been a strikingly good-looking kid since childhood—bright, bold, and unrestrained, almost aggressive in his beauty.

Ethan Grant walked to his seat, stuffed his lunchbox into the desk compartment with a natural and swift motion, as if nothing had happened.

Only after sitting down did he get a good look at the Omega's face—it was the same one from yesterday, the one who wanted to stay pure for Ethan Brooks.

Seemed to be called Logan Reed.

Slender, fair, and delicate, with a gentle look—just the type that suited a young master like Ethan Brooks.

He only glanced once, said nothing, and pulled out a new physics workbook to start working through it.

The pen scratched across the paper with a rustling sound, his knuckles turning a bit white from the pressure.

Since Logan Reed had come in, the sudden drop in temperature made him shiver. As he quickly unwrapped the packaging, he stole glances.

Good-looking, truly good-looking—those eyes, that nose, those lips, that captivating little beauty mark, those charming hands.

But just too cold—his aura was cold, his scent was cold, even his gaze was cold.

Not the kind of cool, aloof, showy ice prince cold—just distant.

A kind of lofty, careless detachment.

Thinking of what William Turner had told him about this big shot's past at fourteen, Logan Reed felt even more awe, and pushed the unwrapped sandwich and rice ball toward Ethan Brooks: "Song-ge, take your time, I'm going back to memorize history."

With that, he dashed off.

Ethan Brooks took the yogurt bag out of his mouth and lazily glanced at Ethan Grant: "Look at you, you're so scary, you see how much you frighten the kids."

Ethan Grant glanced at him: "You're not scared?"

Ethan Brooks raised his eyebrows smugly: "Me, afraid of you? What a joke. Kid, you're way too naive. Do you even know who your Song-ge is?"

Ethan Grant usually ignored his endless chatter, but for some reason today, he was in the mood. He put down his pen, turned around, rested his left hand on the back of Ethan Brooks's chair, leaned in a little, and gave him a smile.

"Kid, trust me, you'll be scared eventually."

He had slightly long phoenix eyes, light in color, and when he smiled like that, he looked a bit like a male fox spirit, the beauty mark under his eye making him look even more bewitching.

Ethan Brooks was stunned by his smile, lost his balance for a second, and the tilted chair fell straight backward. Just as he was about to fall, Ethan Grant's hand, which was on the back of his chair, quickly reached forward and caught him.

It was just an instinctive reaction to steady him, but somehow, the end result was that Ethan Brooks ended up in Ethan Grant's arms in a rather delicate posture.

...

The chair crashed to the floor with a bang.

The classroom door was pushed open.

Henry Clark's water bottle fell to the ground.

The classroom door closed.

...

Author's note:

One meter eighty-three, a burly man in a delicate pose

Chapter 5

Maybe it was because both Ethan Brooks and Ethan Grant had such strong auras, or maybe it was the deeply ingrained belief that "two Alphas never end well together."

In any case, even though it was a somewhat ambiguous scene, by the time the story spread from Henry Clark's big mouth, it had turned into a tale of two big shots having a fight in the vast classroom.

Smashing desks and chairs, close combat, life and death struggle, never-ending.

Some even said that the reason Ethan Grant left back then was because the person he liked was snatched away by Ethan Brooks. And the reason they fought today was because of that Omega who had hurriedly fled from Class One's classroom.

Heroes fighting for beauty.

It sounded so real.

Ethan Brooks almost believed it himself.

He sat behind Henry Clark, staring gloomily at the back of his neck, debating whether it would be better to strangle him or jab his gland.

From the first cervical vertebra all the way down to the last tailbone, Henry Clark felt a chill.

He straightened his back, bravely facing the threat of death, and only dared to turn around cautiously and respectfully hand over the answer sheet when the test papers were distributed.

"Guys, can you stop staring at me? I was wrong, I shouldn't have peeked, I'll get a stye tonight as punishment. I shouldn't have gossiped either, I'll get a mouth ulcer tonight as punishment."