Chapter 8: It Was That Drink
Xie Ren’s voice traveled through the microphone, casually spreading throughout the entire bar.
The air solidified for a long moment. The host, holding the microphone up to him, was stuck in an awkward dilemma.
After the dead silence, the crowd below exploded.
“Fuck! I knew coming tonight wasn’t a waste!”
“Did I hear that right? Did he ask if the guy is married?”
“Hahahaha, didn’t the Command Class guys always say Boss Xie had no interest in Omegas?”
“Wait, this Omega is their instructor! Hiss…”
Xu Bohan’s eyes went wide, and he pointed a finger at his temple, making a circling motion. “Is he crazy? Even Director Luo wouldn’t dare unleash like this in front of the Master. This lunatic, is he really not afraid of getting his head cracked open?”
Zhao Yi rubbed his chin. “He probably wants to verify the authenticity of my intel.”
“…”
Yu Shi hadn’t expected him to ask this question either. He looked at Xie Ren silently, his expression unreadable.
Xie Ren pushed the microphone away and offered a kind reminder: “Instructor Yu, you must accept your loss. You don’t have the right to refuse to answer.”
Yu Shi’s eyelid twitched. Then he realized—perhaps Xie Ren wasn’t actually curious about the answer. He just wanted to make things difficult for him from a certain angle, a tit-for-tat retaliation.
Yu Shi didn’t answer but asked instead, “Why would you think I am married?”
Xie Ren’s mind spun quickly. “Since Instructor Yu put it that way, you must be unmarried. I heard you’ve been going on blind dates continuously. What, haven’t found a satisfactory one?”
Yu Shi spoke unhurriedly. “That is the second question. You have to beat me one more time to be qualified to ask.”
Xie Ren stared at him fixedly, then suddenly started laughing.
It was as if he had seen something incredibly amusing. The smile spread from the corners of his mouth to his brow, gradually turning into a low, muffled laugh. He had to clench his fist and cough several times to stop.
Yu Shi’s face darkened. “Is it that funny?”
The host looked at him, then at Xie Ren, his head swiveling like a ping-pong ball between the two, at a loss for what to do.
The audience below couldn’t hear the conversation, so the murmurs grew louder.
Xie Ren clicked his tongue. “It’s not funny. I just feel this game is a bit unfair.”
“How so?” Yu Shi queried.
The host’s eyes nearly popped out. Unfair? You’re saying it’s unfair? Wasn’t this competition something you came up with after arriving at NDU?
“Although Instructor Yu is a weapons expert, you are a developer after all, not a user.”
As Xie Ren spoke, he picked up the gun and effortlessly demonstrated a five-second one-handed disassembly, even faster than the second round.
Yu Shi slowly frowned, his gaze turning solemn.
Xie Ren continued, “For those of us who use guns all day, speed doesn’t decide winning or losing—it decides life or death. Naturally, we are much faster than ordinary people. So, for the sake of fairness, why don’t we change the method?”
Yu Shi looked at him with an expression that said, Let’s see what tricks you can pull.
Xie Ren grinned. “We don’t need a third round. How about this: you ask me a question, and I ask you a question. We’ll call it even.”
“…”
And here he thought it would be a good idea.
Yu Shi remained unmoved. “This also seems unfair, because I have no questions to ask you.”
“Wow, truly cold and heartless.” Xie Ren shook his head and sighed. “An unromantic Omega like Instructor Yu must have broken many Alphas’ hearts.”
“I don’t know about others, but the Falcon Regiment certainly has had theirs broken,” Yu Shi mocked.
Hearing this, Xie Ren’s expression shifted slightly. “Oh?”
Yu Shi thought for a moment. “I can’t think of any other requests for now. Can I reserve this privilege to use next time?”
“You’re trying to gain leverage over me,” Xie Ren pointed out. “You’re more cunning than you look, Instructor Yu.”
“If you’re unwilling, then forget it.”
Xie Ren laughed and shrugged. “I didn’t say I was unwilling. I accept my loss; I agree. So now, you should answer my second question. What are your criteria for a blind date?”
Whether personally or professionally, this question was crossing the line.
Yu Shi didn’t mind. He hooked his finger. “Come closer.”
Xie Ren paused, then leaned his upper body across the long table.
Yu Shi leaned in and whispered two words into his ear.
The softly spoken words were like his breath, brushing against the earlobe, elusive and faint. Xie Ren smelled the subtle scent of peppermint between his lips and teeth—sweet and fragrant.
It was that drink.
He hooked the corner of his mouth, his breathing growing slightly chaotic.
The crowd below was restless. The host didn’t understand what was happening either and could only laugh awkwardly, trying desperately to control the scene.
After speaking, Yu Shi nodded to the host and walked off the ring.
Xie Ren remained leaning forward, his eyes slightly dazed. It took the host calling him several times before he snapped back to reality.
“Let us congratulate both on a draw,” the host said hesitantly. “Commander Xie, regarding the fact that someone has finally tied with you after seven years, do you have anything you want to say?”
He handed the microphone to Xie Ren’s lips. Xie Ren licked his lips. “Hmm?”
Host: “Hmm?”
Xie Ren glanced at him. “What did you just say?”
Host: “…”
The competition ended in chaos. Xie Ren returned to the booth, where he was immediately bombarded by Zhao Yi’s chatter.
A new round of competition began on stage. Through the neon lights and the bustling crowd, he saw Yu Shi pick up that glass of peppermint cocktail and take a shallow sip.
Xie Ren squinted sharply, the sentence from earlier echoing in his ears—
“Money Alpha. If Commander Xie has a channel, you can introduce one to me.”
Frivolous with a hint of provocation, like a return gift for his own boundary-crossing.
Just like the drink in front of him: refreshing yet spicy. One sip made the blood boil and the alcohol hit the head.
Truly surprising, Instructor Yu.
He took a large swig of alcohol, an ambiguous smile flashing across his face.
The next morning, the sharp wake-up bugle pierced the sky above the school.
Zhao Yi skillfully covered his head with a pillow, rolled over, and continued to sleep. Third-year grad students attended morning drills voluntarily; unlike undergraduates, it wasn’t mandatory.
As was his custom, he intended to snooze for five minutes. Who knew that once his eyes closed, an hour would pass.
An hour later, Zhao Yi groggily looked at the screen, bolted upright, and cursed, “Fuck me.”
He shouted while hastily pulling on his uniform, “Brother Ren, wake up! My alarm didn’t go off. Little Fish is going to call on people to answer questions today, we absolutely can’t be late…”
He looked toward the empty bunk next to him—the military quilt folded into a tofu block, the meticulous sheets and pillow—and couldn’t help but scream a second “Fuck me.”
Fuck! Traitor!
When he sprinted all the way to the classroom, arriving just as the bell rang only to be punished with twenty minutes of standing, he saw the traitor Xie Ren sitting dutifully in the front row, chin in hand, taking… taking notes??
Zhao Yi was so scared he thought he was seeing a ghost in broad daylight. He gestured frantically from outside the door: Where is my breakfast?
Xie Ren ignored him at first. When the gesturing got annoying, he lightly mouthed one word: Scram.
Zhao Yi: “…”
Whoever you are, get out of Brother Ren’s body.
When the twenty minutes were up, he was finally allowed in, sitting in the front row with humiliation.
The front row… who understands the pain? Never sat here in my life.
Yu Shi paid them no mind and continued lecturing on the precautions for the Simulated Battlefield.
The Simulated Battlefield was NDU’s monthly exam. Groups of four would survive in a battlefield environment for three days, ranked by their final score.
With thirty people across three classes, the unlucky ones would be randomly assigned a robot dog as a teammate.
The “Robot Dog,” as the name suggests, was a pit-falling gadget that combined artificial idiocy and a mobile turret. Its performance depended entirely on luck and terrain; everyone who used it said it was trash.
Currently, the highest score was held by Xie Ren’s team—consisting of him, Zhao Yi, Ye Bingyang, and a robot dog named 9527. Total score: 91.3. Of the 8.7 points deducted, 7 were because of that dog.
Therefore, at the mention of the Simulated Battlefield, everyone wore expressions of weariness, praying they wouldn’t be assigned a robot dog.
Zhao Yi lowered his voice. “You went to morning drills today? Why didn’t you wake me?!”
Xie Ren looked baffled. “You didn’t ask me to wake you.”
“That’s because usually, you’re the one who oversleeps!” Zhao Yi said indignantly. “And you didn’t even buy breakfast. We agreed to take turns bringing it. Damn it, why isn’t Ye Bingyang here yet? He’s not still sleeping, is he? We’re doomed, doomed…”
Xie Ren said, “Being late is bad.”
“?”
“Eating breakfast in class is also bad.”
“??”
“You guys pay attention next time.”
“???”
“Then what about your absence from Old Tang’s class for half the semester?” Zhao Yi was dumbfounded. “Were you threatened by Instructor Little Fish with credits last night? No, wait, who dares threaten you?”
Xie Ren kept a straight face. “Don’t give random nicknames to people.”
“…”
Yu Shi knocked on the desk. “Zhao Yi, do you have any opinions on the precautions?”
People around them were whispering. Zhao Yi stood up meekly, instantly cowardly. “I have no opinion. What you said was excellent.”
Yu Shi nodded. “Then it’s decided. Currently, there are twenty-nine people present in the class. One person will return over the weekend. To facilitate grouping, Assistant Xu and I will be added in. Additionally, the Third Institute is testing a new model of robot dog this time; every group must bring one.”
“What?!” Zhao Yi accidentally shouted out.
Yu Shi looked at him, his face saying I thought you had no opinion. Zhao Yi quickly covered his mouth. “N-Nothing.”
He turned his head and whispered, “Did you hear that, Brother Ren? He and that Little Xu are joining in… and we have to take a robot dog for every group? Fuck, just kill me! How the hell do we fight? I never thought I could fail a monthly exam!”
Xie Ren remained silent, his expression unfathomable.
Zhao Yi waved his hand in front of his face. “Boss, you’ve been acting weird since last night. Did staying up late make you stupid?”
Xie Ren looked thoughtful. “Do you think he can make the top rankings with that much confidence?”
“Who? Instructor Yu? If his group can make the top three—no, if they can make the top five, I’ll perform a handstand while eating shit.”
Xie Ren looked disgusted. “Don’t try to scam free food and drink all day.”
“?”
The bad news about the Simulated Battlefield left the whole class listless. Everyone listened to the lecture lethargically.
This lesson covered a new type of weapon: the Injection-Type Pheromone Rifle.
Yu Shi played the PPT slides one by one. The principle utilized pheromone rank suppression, storing high-level pheromones in a syringe to attack the enemy—similar in effect to a tranquilizer gun.
On the podium was a weapon case labeled with an Armory number, a demonstration firearm obtained through approval.
He placed his hand on the box and said, “Next, I will demonstrate…”
Halfway through, he suddenly stopped. The students below looked up at him one after another.
“Next, I will ask someone to come up and demonstrate. Xu Ze, you do it,” Yu Shi said, moving his hand away.
Pheromone rifles weren’t rare. The lesson plan was disassembly and theory teaching, usually performed by the instructor. Puzzled, Xu Ze walked up and opened the gun case directly.
The moment he opened the box, Yu Shi slightly turned his face away and took two steps down from the podium.
Everyone was focused on the PPT; no one noticed his action.
Xie Ren looked at Yu Shi’s hand hanging by his side. The fingers curled up, fingertips pressing into the palm—a subconscious reaction often produced by high stress.
His gaze moved from Yu Shi’s hand to his tight jawline.
Facing the audience, Yu Shi spoke unnaturally, “Xu Ze, explain the principle of the pheromone rifle to everyone.”
From the moment Xu Ze started speaking until the disassembly was complete, Yu Shi didn’t look at the podium again. He paced seemingly casually below the stage, but in reality, he had no intention of returning to it.
His pace was faster than usual, revealing an imperceptible anxiety.
Xie Ren couldn’t help but wonder: What is he nervous about?
Is he afraid of that rifle?
This thought was rejected as soon as it arose.
A gunsmith afraid of guns? That was simply a fantasy.
Yu Shi passed by his desk and accidentally knocked over a stylus. Before he could react, Xie Ren quickly snatched the pen and looked up, meeting his gaze.
The others were listening to Xu Ze’s explanation.
Yu Shi lowered his voice. “No lateness today, and no breakfast. Keep it up, and I’ll add your participation points back.”
With that, he swept past him and walked to the back.
It felt like they had exchanged a little secret only they knew.
Xie Ren froze for a good while before realizing this was the “stick and carrot” approach.
A smile rose on the corner of his mouth. Acting innocent after getting a bargain, he thought. Hypocrite.
