Chapter 30

“Little You?” Wen Yan sat up in bed, overflowing with delight. Liang Wangyou stared at him fixedly for a few seconds before sliding off the bed and bolting away. Wen Yan flung back the covers and gave chase. Fortunately, Liang Wangyou hadn’t managed to shut the door yet. Paying no mind to anything else, Wen Yan squeezed through the narrow gap and said, “I swear I won’t break my word again. I definitely won’t. I’m sorry.”

Afraid of crushing his hand, Liang Wangyou hadn’t closed the door all the way. He only peeked out with a pair of big eyes.

“Little You, what were you doing undoing my neck ring just now?” Wen Yan asked cautiously. Then he wondered if he was overthinking it—maybe Liang Wangyou had simply been touching it. “Were you having trouble sleeping?”

Liang Wangyou stared at him without a word.

“It’s fine,” Wen Yan said. “You can come to my room anytime. I’m not mad at you. You didn’t wake me up either—I just wasn’t asleep.”

“Wen Yan,” Liang Wangyou said.

“Here. I’m here.” Wen Yan answered hurriedly, leaning in a little closer.

Liang Wangyou stared at his face, peering closely again and again.

“What’s wrong?” Wen Yan asked softly.

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll be training at the Sports Center after school. I won’t be home until late,” Liang Wangyou said quietly. “And I won’t come back on weekends either. Don’t go on any business trips with Dad. Stay home the whole time. Don’t leave.”

Wen Yan had almost forgotten—Liang Wangyou had a race on the first of next month, so he’d need to train intensively for a while. That meant they wouldn’t see much of each other in the coming days. But what did he mean by telling him not to leave? Whatever it was, Wen Yan agreed right away.

“Can I come pick you up after training?” he asked tentatively.

“Dad won’t let you,” Liang Wangyou said. “He doesn’t want me clinging to you.”

“I’ll talk to him properly. I’ll get his permission,” Wen Yan promised.

“Fine then… I’ll wait for you.” Liang Wangyou glanced at the faint dark circles under his eyes and added, “You need to go to sleep earlier.”

Wen Yan thought he was referring to the broken promise about the race, so he nodded vigorously. “I’ll definitely be there on time.”

“Good night, Wen Yan.” Liang Wangyou pressed his lips together in a small smile.

“Good night, Little You.” Wen Yan hated to say it, but he did.

With his heart finally at ease, Wen Yan returned to his room and sat on the bed. He slowly reached his right hand around to the back of his neck and touched the neck ring, replaying the earlier moment in his mind. Liang Wangyou really had been trying to undo it. The gland was an intimate part of the body—was he just curious about an omega’s gland? Kindergartens didn’t teach complex physiology yet, and it was perfectly normal for a child his age to be curious. There was nothing wrong with wanting a peek. But Wen Yan didn’t want him to see it. His gland was hideous, covered in crooked black stitches. If the neck ring vibrated for too long, blood would soak through them and seep out.

With that in mind, Wen Yan decided to switch to a barrier patch every night before bed. He went to the bathroom and removed the neck ring in front of the mirror. Sure enough, the gland was badly swollen, and the surrounding skin had stretched thin and translucent. He prodded it gently with his fingertip, and it came away stained faint pink.

He slept the entire day at home. That evening, as he prepared to head out and pick up Liang Wangyou, he descended the steps just as Liang Shijing returned from his business trip. In the night shadows, the bodyguards got out of the car first, then opened the rear door. The S-level Alpha leaned out.

“Where are you going?” Liang Shijing loosened his tie and strode over with his long legs.

“To pick up Little You,” Wen Yan said.

“We have drivers and bodyguards. Why do you need to go? He’s not that delicate. Go back inside.”

“I promised him I would.”

“There are perverts out there,” Liang Shijing said.

“We already agreed!” Wen Yan insisted.

“I say no.” Liang Shijing slung an arm around his shoulders and marched him back up the steps. When Wen Yan started struggling, he murmured low, “My head hurts. Don’t go.”

The Alpha didn’t look like he was lying—his face was pale and exhausted.

Consul Ji quietly waved for the servants to leave, giving the omega and Alpha some private space. For a moment, Wen Yan didn’t know what to do. Liang Shijing needed his pheromones, but he couldn’t break his word to Liang Wangyou again. After half a second of hesitation, he said, “I’ll pick him up and come straight back. Then I’ll come right to your bedroom.”

“How long will you stay? Think it over before you answer. No take-backs,” Liang Shijing said coldly.

“Until your headache goes away,” Wen Yan promised.

Only then did Liang Shijing release him. “Come back on time. One minute late, and you’re never going again.”

True to his word to hurry there and back, Wen Yan did exactly that. He picked up Liang Wangyou without a second’s delay and headed straight home. Liang Wangyou was exhausted too, blinking sleepily. Wen Yan asked if he wanted to nap in his arms, but Liang Wangyou shook his head. “I want to look at you.”

Somehow, the big and little pair both seemed a bit odd.

Wen Yan couldn’t figure it out. Back at Oak Bay, he hurried down the hallway to the door at the end without stopping. It stood ajar, a thin black slit. He pushed it open slowly. The dim air was thick with the faint scent of Alpha pheromones—warm, yet somehow cool against his face.

—Very comfortable.

“Liang Shijing?” Wen Yan called softly.

No answer. He crept further inside. No one in the bathroom, the living room, or the study. Nowhere. Was Liang Shijing not there? As he glanced around, his eyes fell on the bed. A dim reading light glowed on the wall. Liang Shijing lay on the left side, fully dressed, hand draped over his forehead as if the light bothered him. One leg bent, the other stretched out. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top two, and his black trousers hugged his long legs.

Wen Yan listened closely. The room filled with deep, steady breathing.

He approached slowly and saw the unnatural flush on Liang Shijing’s cheeks. He’d seemed fine just an hour ago. He really hadn’t been lying. Wen Yan hurried downstairs and fetched Hu Li.

Hu Li examined him, scratched his head, then scratched it again, as if he’d encountered some baffling mystery illness.

“Is it serious?” Wen Yan whispered.

“He probably hasn’t rested for two or three days,” Hu Li whispered back, though his words were odd. “But that’s not the main issue. When certain things get suppressed for too long and you won’t let them out, it turns into this.”

“What things suppressed for too long?”

“Uh… physical needs.” Hu Li convinced himself. “Yeah, physical needs. It’s happened before. Let’s give him a shot and see.”

“Is there really nothing you can do? Does he always get fevers like this? When will he recover? Does it always hurt this much?” Wen Yan’s concern was so intense that it bordered on frantic. From his perspective, Liang Shijing simply couldn’t afford to fall ill—who would look after Liang Wangyou if he did? But to someone in the know like Hu Li, that level of worry carried a very different implication, prompting him to let a few more details slip despite himself. “Heart Addiction Medication can’t cure it. If the body doesn’t release all that pent-up stress over a long period, it festers inside and becomes the root of the illness. In time, it turns chronic. Truth be told, Little Yan, the Chief hasn’t had many fevers since you got back. This one might be because he hasn’t seen you in a while.”

How long? Hadn’t it only been three days?

“Do I need to release my pheromones?” Wen Yan asked in a daze.

“No need.” Hu Li flashed a sly grin. “Just spend more time with him when you can. Who knows—it might even help him get through his Susceptibility Period.”

Yes, even Alphas had Susceptibility Periods.

Regular Alphas went through them roughly once every two years, while S-Grade Alphas might only face one every three or four—or perhaps never at all. An Alpha in the throes of a Susceptibility Period became ferociously aggressive. The Alliance maintained special treatment rooms in every city, where they locked up affected Alphas for the duration. S-Grade Alphas who could manage on their own avoided confinement, but they still had to wear a Bite Inhibitor whenever they ventured out.

Of course, the best remedy was always an Omega’s pheromones to soothe them.

Liang Shijing needed Wen Yan’s pheromones just to get through ordinary days—how had he survived the past five years? Wen Yan’s eyes flickered. “Has Liang Shijing had a Susceptibility Period before?”

“Yeah, two years back.” Hu Li rummaged through the medical kit without looking up.

“How did he make it through?”

Liang Shijing surely didn’t lack for Omegas willing to offer their pheromones, did he?

“He nearly died,” Hu Li said flatly.

Wen Yan was too stunned to speak. Even someone like Liang Shijing faced mortal danger during a Susceptibility Period? He couldn’t find compatible pheromones? Was that why he’d latched onto Wen Yan?

Hu Li popped open the metal cold-storage case, and tendrils of white vapor drifted lazily from within. It was filled with vials of that same pink liquid.

“What the hell is this stuff?” Wen Yan asked, his eyes stiffly swiveling as he picked up one of the syringes.

“Don’t touch it!” Hu Li barked, stopping him cold.

Wen Yan froze, syringe still clutched in his hand. Just a few days ago, Liang Shijing had asked him to inject the stuff without a hint of such caution. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine. It’s just pricey—would suck if you dropped it,” Hu Li lied.

Not merely pricey, but extraordinarily rare. And it wasn’t the breakage that mattered; even a counterfeit vial’s pheromones could spark chaos.

This time, there was no injection into the gland. Instead, Hu Li administered three IV pushes into Liang Shijing’s forearm. The Chief’s breathing grew ragged almost immediately. Hu Li cleaned up the medical waste, snapped the kit shut, and said, “Little Yan, mind watching him for a bit? If the fever doesn’t break in two hours, give me a shout. The team’s right outside.”

“Thanks.” Wen Yan rose to see him out. Hu Li shot him a knowing smile. “No sweat, Little Yan. If the Chief’s out of it and says or does something weird, just roll with it, yeah?”

“Got it.”

Wen Yan shut the door, then headed to the bathroom to soak a towel in cold water. When he returned, he gently pried Liang Shijing’s hand away from the man’s forehead. In the dim light, Liang Shijing’s flawless, aristocratic features were laid bare. With his eyes closed, he lost that usual edge of severity and took on an almost docile air.

An S-Grade Alpha’s physique far outstripped any ordinary person’s, and yet even he lay here sick—because of Wen Yan. Guilt gnawed at him anew. He’d failed Liang Shijing. His father. Directly or indirectly, he’d made the man’s life hell.

He dabbed the soft, damp towel along the Alpha’s temples, wiping away the sweat. Liang Shijing’s flushed cheeks gleamed with moisture, lending them an unusually soft, warm glow.

After a moment’s thought, Wen Yan decided to wipe the Chief’s palms as well. The sooner the fever broke, the less suffering he’d endure. Right now, Liang Shijing wasn’t some untouchable Chief; he was pliant, letting Wen Yan maneuver him as needed. Squatting at the bedside, Wen Yan cradled the man’s hand, slowly wiping the palm. The Alpha’s fingers were long and distinct, impeccably clean, the joints flushed a healthy pink. Wen Yan glanced at his own hand by comparison. Yeah, not like mine—pale as a ghost, no color at all.

He finished the left and circled around to the right, half-kneeling on the bed as he leaned over to grasp it. The instant his fingers brushed Liang Shijing’s wrist, the Alpha’s hand snapped shut around his in return.

Wen Yan went rigid and twisted his head. There was Liang Shijing, head pillowed on the snowy white linens, eyes half-lidded and fixed on him.

“You’re running a fever. I’m just wiping you down to cool you off,” Wen Yan stammered.

Did Alphas hate being touched like this?

Not at all. Liang Shijing tugged him forward and down, pulling him straight into a tight embrace. Two lean, fever-hot arms locked around Wen Yan’s chest, one hand stroking the back of his head while the Alpha’s chin nudged against his forehead. Sensing his discomfort, Liang Shijing cracked his eyes open wider, then started tugging at Wen Yan’s clothes.

“What are you doing?” Wen Yan yelped, panic surging even as he found himself pinned.

The Alpha was clearly delirious. Who did he think Wen Yan was?

In a few swift motions, Liang Shijing stripped him down to his underwear. The man’s body temperature was scorching; his breath against Wen Yan’s forehead burned like fire. Truth be told, his whole body radiated heat. Wen Yan tried to squirm free, shoving hard against him, but Liang Shijing landed a sharp slap on his ass. It stung like hell—and before Wen Yan could even process it, the Alpha pinned him fully against his body.

They pressed together without a whisper of space between them.

Something was very obvious.

Wen Yan didn’t dare move a muscle. Liang Shijing… this infuriating, depraved Alpha…

Could you seriously get hard with a fever?

The night stretched on endlessly. Trapped in that position, Wen Yan had no idea how to endure it. He kept his eyes wide open, afraid to blink too often—each flutter of his lashes grazed the Alpha’s throat. But he couldn’t go forever without blinking, and closing his eyes risked drifting off entirely.

Lost in a haze of scattered thoughts, he recalled Hu Li’s earlier words.

Suppressed for so long, and refusing to relieve himself…

Did “relieve” mean dealing with that insistent hardness? It had been rigid for nearly half an hour now…

Some indeterminate time later, Wen Yan felt like his body had turned to petrified wood. His forearm throbbed under the Alpha’s weight—if he didn’t shift soon, he might lose circulation entirely. He tried to wriggle, just a little, begging silently for even the slightest slack. But Liang Shijing’s arms clamped down like iron vines, tightening further with every twitch of resistance until Wen Yan’s lungs burned for air.

“Liang Shijing.” Wen Yan called out to him softly. “Liang Shijing?”

“Liang Shijing?”

“Liang Shijing?!”

“My hand hurts so much…”

At those words, Liang Shijing opened his reddened eyes.

“You’re awake? Are you alright?” Wen Yan faltered in his movements.

The room fell into a prolonged silence. Liang Shijing stared at him with heavy breaths as a single tear slowly trickled from the corner of his eye, sliding down the bridge of his nose.