Chapter 25

Early summer had arrived, and the Oak Corridor had grown all the more lush and verdant.

Under the dappled green shade, Wen Yan strolled slowly to aid his digestion. By his calculations, he would reach the main road just in time for the car to pick him up and take him to the Chief’s Mansion. That night, he still hadn’t gotten an answer from Liang Shijing about how he knew Wen Yan had a headache, nor why the gland degeneration hadn’t shown up on any checks. But lately, the servants at Oak Bay had grown increasingly deferential toward him—positively solicitous, even.

Why the sudden change? Had Liang Shijing said something to them?

“Little Yan!” someone called from behind. Hu Li came panting up as he ran over. “Has your head still been hurting lately?”

“Sorry, Doctor Hu. I snuck some painkillers that day,” Wen Yan said guiltily, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Hey, the whole of Oak Bay is yours anyway, and the Chief specially instructed us to give you whatever you need!” Hu Li replied.

Of course, only for legitimate needs—and they had to report it right away.

“It only hurts occasionally,” Wen Yan said vaguely. Then he asked, “Did Liang Shijing reprimand you all?”

“Of course not.” Hu Li grinned. “The Chief’s a good guy. Oh, right—Little Yan, I have to explain about your headaches.”

“Go ahead,” Wen Yan said with a nod.

The two of them strolled along.

“Your headaches are a side effect from the drugs you took five years ago. It’s not a disease, and the painkillers you’re taking have no adverse effects. Eat them whenever you don’t want to tough it out—after all, you’re not one for pain, haha.”

So that was really it…

“Got it,” Wen Yan said with a serene smile. “Thanks.”

“I haven’t asked yet—has the neck ring caused any bad reactions after all this time?” Hu Li said.

Wen Yan blinked. “Am I supposed to have any?”

“Like, any discomfort while using it on the gland? This model’s an upgrade from the previous one,” Hu Li explained.

“Nope,” Wen Yan said.

Hu Li flashed a toothy grin. “You used to wear this neck ring before, and it felt great back then.”

“Before?” Wen Yan frowned.

“Yeah, the gland needs periodic releases—” Hu Li’s smile froze mid-sentence. He looked up at the sky and swung his arms in big circles. “What great weather we’re having today, huh?”

“Releasing pheromones?”

Yes, the gland absolutely required regular pheromone releases. If they built up too long, it would inevitably lead to degeneration.

“Ah.” Hu Li scratched his head.

Wen Yan couldn’t understand what there was to hide about it. Liang Shijing plainly needed his pheromones for treatment—why was Hu Li hemming and hawing? And aside from the pain when using the neck ring, there were no real side effects. So why even ask?

Did his pheromones carry some kind of pathogen that had made Liang Shijing sick? He really wanted to dig to the bottom of it, but putting Hu Li in that spot was unfair. No one outside could pry into Liang Shijing’s health.

Hu Li rubbed his face. “Sorry, Little Yan. I really can’t say.”

“Is his condition serious?” Wen Yan asked.

Liang Wangyou was only five, yet Wen Yan’s gland was already seventy percent degenerated. In the years ahead, Liang Shijing would be his only support. He couldn’t afford to have any problems.

“It’s not too bad.” Hu Li scratched his head again. “The Chief’s main issue is heart addiction. Actually, he hasn’t had a flare-up since you came back. His moods have been stable to an astonishing degree lately. We just need to watch the susceptibility period—which is pretty negligible, as long as he doesn’t catch a whiff of an omega’s heat pheromones.”

“I’ve washed off the mark already, so I won’t have any heat periods,” Wen Yan explained quietly.

An S-Grade omega only entered regular heat periods after being given a lifelong mark by an alpha. Otherwise, they were just like anyone else. Of course, exposure to another omega in heat could force one into it too.

“Relax, relax.” Hu Li waved it off casually. “Besides you, Little Yan, what other omega could even get close to the Chief?”

“So, how long until he’s fully recovered? Will he need my pheromones indefinitely?”

“Pretty much… anyway, this whole thing… argh, maybe we should change the subject? Look how blue the sky is, how white the clouds…”

Wen Yan thought it over, then decided to press a little more. From what Hu Li had said, Liang Shijing hadn’t contracted some incurable disease from his pheromones—in fact, recovery seemed just around the corner. If that was the case, Liang Shijing wouldn’t need him anymore once he was better. If Wen Yan could just survive, he might even get to see Liang Wangyou occasionally. Liang Shijing would probably allow it. And if not, he could beg—and Liang Shijing could be reasonable sometimes.

“Doctor Hu,” Wen Yan said softly. “I saw on the news the other day about an omega with gland degeneration. If someone gets that condition, is there any hope for treatment?”

“No,” Hu Li said flatly. “I know the patient you’re talking about—our team even discussed it that day. Gland degeneration isn’t a disease, but medicine hasn’t found a good fix yet. It’s like a flower slowly withering away—no one can stop the natural decay. Of course, there are two prospective solutions being researched right now. One is replacing it with an artificial gland, using biotech to substitute the original. The other is live gland transplant surgery, which the Chief explicitly banned at the recent Eight Nations Conference.”

Wen Yan looked at him in confusion.

“Both artificial glands and live transplants are still in development, and neither works great. Artificial glands can’t handle the neuron connections or pheromone release—they lack biological activity. Even if the surgery succeeds, the patient ends up a vegetable.”

“As for why the Chief banned live transplants, my guess is this.” Hu Li lowered his voice. “If the law allowed it, how many people would die over their glands? Black-market gland trafficking, staged accidents, ‘donations’ that are really forced… the criminal underworld behind it is horrifying to imagine.”

“So I think the Chief was absolutely right to veto the other seven nations’ petition. It’s like how the Alliance bans AOs from selling pheromones or omegas from surrogacy. You can’t open that door—once you do, it’s not saving lives; it’s fueling crime.”

And who would willingly swap their gland for someone else’s?

Wen Yan nodded calmly. “Yes. There’s a lot of smuggling at the Border—selling pheromones. Almost all those AOs were kidnapped and drained dry.”

“Is that so?” Hu Li said. “Without a gland, no one can survive, so nobody would willingly swap their own for someone else, right? Even setting that aside, even if they were willing and the surgery feasible, imagine the agony the survivor would face—bearing another person’s life through every remaining day. Just thinking about it is heartbreaking.”

“Liang Shijing did the right thing,” Wen Yan said sincerely. “He’s a great leader.”

In truth, his father Wen Zecheng had seemed like a great leader on the surface too. Wen Yan had never understood why Wen Zecheng would do such things, but during those five years of scraping by to survive, he realized he should have spotted the warning signs much earlier. Why? Because the “father” who bore him was a male S-Grade Alpha, and so was Wen Zecheng. Two male Alphas couldn’t produce a child, so Wen Yan had been raised by childcare workers. As for his “father,” he had died in childbirth. Wen Yan had only ever seen his photo—a refined, handsome man.

Sometimes he wondered if that was why his own gland was so unique and rare.

“Human life and scientific progress often clash,” Hu Li pivoted. “I hope we see breakthroughs in artificial glands soon—ones that solve medical crises while stamping out crime at the root. The Chief’s a good man. Don’t you think so, Little Yan?”

“His words can be harsh, but otherwise he’s a good person,” Wen Yan replied with a smile.

“You’ve got a sweet tongue,” Hu Li said, flashing his big white teeth. “You two are perfect together.”

The black convoy rolled slowly toward them from the green horizon. Wen Yan pulled back his gaze. “Thank you for clearing up so much for me. You’re a good person too, Doctor Hu.”

“Head to the Chief’s Mansion,” Hu Li said with a grin. “Come find me anytime if you’re not feeling well. Need more painkillers? Just tell Little Ji.”

“Got it. See you next time.” Wen Yan waved, turned, and walked ahead with a profound sense of relief. This life was just right now. Liang Shijing and Liang Wangyou were both wonderful, and he couldn’t ask for more… Plus, next month Liang Wangyou’s birthday would arrive early, beating the scorching summer heat.

The black sedan glided through the bustling streets. Crowds gathered at the crosswalk—green light, they crossed; red light, they halted. Everything in the world followed its natural rhythm, and the span of a life was no exception.

~~~

They reached the Chief’s Mansion half an hour later. Lunch break had the corridors hushed and empty, not a bodyguard in sight. Wen Yan nudged a door open a crack and peeked inside.

No one behind the desk?

As he scanned the room discreetly, a pale, slender arm reached down from above. Its thumb flicked his forehead in a flash. “So happy?”

He tilted his head. The Alpha leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“How did you know I was here?” Wen Yan straightened up, puzzled.

“Chief’s Mansion security isn’t so sloppy that it lets people wander in and out at will,” Liang Shijing said, arching a brow. “Find some money on the road?”

“No.” Wen Yan wasn’t sure why he felt so cheerful, but he knew better than to joke with Liang Shijing. He unfastened his neck ring. “I didn’t wander. You told me to come.”

“Smart one.”

What kind of compliment was that…

“Sit.” Liang Shijing nodded toward the chair behind the desk.

“Okay.” Wen Yan nodded agreeably, easy to placate.

It truly was a beautiful day. Sunlight flooded the Chief’s Suite, crisp and pure, while the back garden’s plants stood perfectly trimmed—everything in harmony.

Liang Shijing returned to his paperwork. Wen Yan quietly assessed his workload, sneaking seven or eight glances before furrowing his brow. Tomorrow was the weekend, and the Alpha had promised he could spend the full day with Liang Wangyou. Was that still on? Chin in hand, he mulled it over. Liang Shijing seemed in high spirits now—perfect time to ask?

He cleared his throat softly. Liang Shijing set aside his file and shot him a sidelong glance.

“Beaming all the way here, but now you’re fidgeting beside me?” Liang Shijing said darkly.

“Mm-hmm!” Wen Yan coughed, turning his face while still propping his cheek. “Are you busy right now?”

“Not busy. Out with it.”

“How are you… feeling now?”

“Lousy. Busy.”

“You just said you weren’t…”

Liang Shijing cut in: “If I say busy, you gonna bottle it up all afternoon?”

“I have to ask anyway.” Wen Yan paused, then murmured, “Tomorrow’s the weekend.”

“Friday’s done. Weekend’s here. What’s to remind me? Should I call to cancel tomorrow?”

“Liang Shijing…” Wen Yan gazed at him reproachfully.

“Talk straight.” Liang Shijing drummed his fingers idly on the desk and looked away.

With his face hidden, how to make the request? Wen Yan leaned forward, head cocked like sharing a secret. “We agreed, remember? You can’t back out.”

The Alpha’s finger nudged his freshly flicked forehead, creating distance. “Agreed on what?”

Even Wen Yan caught on—he was being toyed with. And he’d leaned too close again, which was improper. He pulled back and sat straight. “Sorry, won’t happen again. What I meant was, tomorrow’s weekend. I should stay home with Little You.”

“He’s got an activity class,” Liang Shijing said flatly.

All right then. Chief’s Mansion it was…

“Why the sulk? I say you can’t go?”

Wen Yan’s dulled eyes sparked to life. He smiled. “Thank you. You’re great.”

“Great? Then quit the long face.” Liang Shijing thumped the desk. “Leave on time, back on time. Don’t cost someone their life.”

Wen Yan ducked his head. “Understood.”