My Senior Is an Omega - Chapter 3

Yuan-ge didn’t want the child, but abortion laws stood in the way, and his health would not allow him to terminate the pregnancy either. In the end, he had no choice but to give birth.

I gave serious thought to whether I should keep pursuing him.

As it happened, my family called, and I told my father the news.

The moment he heard that Yuan-ge was a gentle, mild-tempered beta like my mother, he slapped his thigh. “Son, ever since you were little, all I’ve wanted was for you to find someone like your mom. It doesn’t matter that this Xu fellow is older than you, or that he’s got a child. Go after him. If you can’t win him over, I’ll break your legs myself.”

Encouraged, I nodded hard. “All right. I’ll do my best to win Yuan-ge over.”

But then my mother took the phone. I had the most beautiful, gentlest mother in the world.

Her soft voice came over the line. “Baibai, I heard what you and your father were saying just now. I’m glad you aren’t concerned about worldly things like age or children. But there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Go ahead, Mom.”

There was a trace of worry in her voice. “Baibai, do you truly like that beta?”

I didn’t understand. “Yuan-ge is smart and gentle. He’s the ideal type I’ve liked ever since I was little.”

Mom sighed softly. “Baibai, perhaps this will sound a little serious, but before you continue pursuing him, I want you to search your heart. Have you found your ideal type, or have you found someone whose tiniest gesture can stir your every thought?”

I had no idea what she meant by that long speech.

Yuan-ge possessed every quality I admired. Being around him was like feeling a spring breeze on my face.

Unlike my senior…

His name popped into my mind at the worst possible moment.

From his name to his looks, everything about him ought to have suited phrases like *a spring breeze turning into rain*. Yet his personality was cold and absolutely vile.

He also detested us alphas. Whenever he shared a lab with us, he looked as if he wanted to sterilize us under ultraviolet light for half an hour first.

Still…

My senior was, in fact, an exceptional person. He was the reason I had applied to this university.

When I was an undergraduate, he had accompanied his advisor to my school on an academic exchange. At the symposium, he had been so confident and dazzling that the brilliance radiating from him nearly captivated everyone in the room.

At the end, he took the microphone. His eyes shone behind his lenses as his pleasant voice filled the auditorium.

“All the juniors here are welcome to apply to our university. I’ll be waiting for you in the lab.”

I knew he was looking at all the eager students in the room, but my heart pounded so hard it nearly leaped out of my throat.

For one instant, it felt as if he were speaking only to me.

So I studied hard. At last, I made it into my senior’s lab and became his junior.

On the first day of graduate school, he arrived late in a white coat. His long hair lifted as he passed me, leaving behind the scent of freshly washed hair.

We introduced ourselves one by one. When my turn came, his gaze settled on me.

For no reason, I grew nervous—and a little expectant.

But he only gave me a faint smile and joked, “I know you. You’re President Bai’s son, and your mother is a cellist. I love her music.”

My delight sank at once.

A person could have many identities. That wasn’t the one I wanted to hear.

More than anything, I wanted my name to leave my senior’s lips. Better yet, I wanted him to sound faintly surprised as he said, “I remember you. We met at the symposium.”

Not that I was my father’s son, and that he enjoyed my mother’s performances.