Wen Yan woke up from the heat.
A heavy weight pinned his foot, rendering him unable to move. He glanced down in a daze and saw Little Alpha, bare-armed and bare-legged, sleeping soundly with his head pillowed on Wen Yan’s instep.
Liang Wangyou lay curled on his side, clad only in a thin sleep shirt up top and a diaper below. His legs were drawn tightly together against the chill. Wen Yan hurriedly scooped him up, blew gently on the red indentation pressed into Liang Wangyou’s cheek, and touched it softly. Tears streamed down uncontrollably.
He dreaded waking Liang Wangyou and letting the boy see him in such a timid state. Even more, he feared these warm embraces wouldn’t happen many more times. After agonizing over it for ages, Wen Yan carried him back to his own room. Once out, he freshened up simply, swallowed some painkillers, and called Li Li. The first call went unanswered, but Li Li rang back shortly after.
“I was just in the shower when I noticed it. If not for the encrypted comms indicator, I’d have thought I’d misread the caller ID,” Li Li said, brimming with delight. “Young Master, it’s been ages since I’ve heard your voice.”
“Did I disturb you? Sorry, I forgot to check the time—it’s pretty early…” Wen Yan felt mortified. He only ever reached out to Li Li when he needed something, and it was invariably at the crack of dawn. But he had no choice; he couldn’t leave Oak Bay. Even buying Li Li a simple meal was out of the question.
“My wake-up time’s usually around now anyway,” Li Li replied with a chuckle. “Something on your mind? Spill it.”
Wen Yan asked, “You free lately? I’d like to swing by and pick up that necklace.”
Since Liang Wangyou loved sea otters, Wen Yan could just build him an aquarium. No more waiting on security clearances—the place would be open exclusively to him, visitable anytime. No more scrubbing the tablet’s progress bar for those precious few seconds of footage. Buying an aquarium took funds, though, and the key to the Family Office was in Li Li’s hands. Hence the call.
“Free anytime,” Li Li said without probing further.
After hanging up, Wen Yan headed downstairs. He found Consul Ji in the restaurant, inspecting breakfast. The consul hurried over at the sight of him. “Breakfast’s almost ready. Hungry? Want some grilled cheese to tide you over?”
Wen Yan approached hesitantly. “I’d like to go out for a bit.”
“Where to, if I may ask? Need to pick up anything?” Consul Ji smiled mildly.
“Meeting a friend. Back soon.”
“Sorry, but the Chief was clear before his trip: no outings for you.” After the formal refusal, Consul Ji added helpfully, “You could invite your friend here instead. I can make the arrangements.”
“Liang Shijing won’t mind?”
Oak Bay wasn’t home for an omega. What had become of his real home? Had the manor sprouted waist-high weeds? They withered each winter, only to sprout anew in spring gales, layers of dead leaves burying the place year after year until it was impassable.
Or had Liang Shijing bulldozed the whole manor flat? After all, that’s where the bloody evidence and all the culprits had been hauled away from.
“Not at all—the Chief gave explicit instructions,” Consul Ji assured him.
But what about negotiating the aquarium purchase? Wen Yan itched to inspect the site in person. Liang Shijing was away on business; confronted directly, he’d likely agree—the man could be reasonable at times. Yet Wen Yan had no clue when he’d return. Inviting Li Li to Oak Bay seemed the only path to the necklace for now. First, he needed to gauge Li Li’s willingness.
Li Li went silent with shock on the line. Wen Yan waited in bitter quiet. Anyone privy to their tangled history would gape at the absurdity of them sharing a roof nowadays.
But Li Li composed himself quickly and agreed.
After the call, Wen Yan double-checked. “Liang Shijing really won’t give him grief?”
“Perfectly fine for casual chat,” Consul Ji said with a laugh. “Just no close contact.”
As they spoke, Liang Wangyou came pattering out of the elevator on his stubby little legs, eyes heavy with sleep. He flung his arms wide. “Wen Yan!” He launched himself forward; Wen Yan stumbled back several steps to catch him. “Slept well?”
“Why was I in my own bed?”
“I carried you there. No more floor-sleeping—you’ll catch cold.”
Perfect timing. Wen Yan held him through breakfast, checking if the bruise on the boy’s chest had faded. Liang Wangyou turned extra clingy, arms looped around Wen Yan’s neck as he nuzzled his cheek relentlessly. It tickled; Wen Yan burst out laughing. Liang Wangyou nuzzled harder, chanting his name.
They horsed around until Liang Wangyou finally settled to eat. Cheeks bulging, he mumbled, “Wen Yan, do you really like me?”
“Like you most of all.” Wen Yan dabbed his mouth.
“Then where were you before?”
“Um… out and about, taking a look around.”
Liang Wangyou blinked his big eyes, brimming with unasked questions. He chewed silently, then buried his face in Wen Yan’s chest. “If you wanna go out looking again, can I come? I wanna go with you. I’ve got tons of money for yummy treats, and I can wash up, eat, even dress myself now—’cept too many buttons. Wen Yan, wait’ll I grow taller. I’ll protect you!”
“But don’t forget tutoring my homework. Teacher says unfinished work means palm-smacks.”
Unafraid after Liang Shijing’s beating, yet fixated on mere homework—Wen Yan’s heart ached with bittersweet amusement. “Why bring this up now?”
Liang Wangyou declared, “I know it’s rough between you and Father, but don’t underestimate me. I’m smart. Wen Yan, wait for me to grow up. No one’ll bully you then—not even Father!”
His words trailed into nonsense, but the resolve in Liang Wangyou’s face was ironclad. Wen Yan gazed at him steadily. Since Wen Zecheng’s death, no one had championed him like this. Five years old or not, bedwetter or not, it made Wen Yan’s eyes burn.
“Little You, know what ‘rough’ means?”
“Makes you really sad.”
“Close enough. Little You, promise you’ll grow up healthy and happy. Only use that trick Father taught you for real danger. Anything else, get the bodyguards, Consul Ji, your father. Got it?”
Liang Wangyou nodded. “But Wen Yan, why can’t I come to you?”
“How about one more piece of bacon?” Wen Yan forced a pale smile.
Liang Wangyou obediently opened his mouth again, wriggling with delight. His little belly was puffed out, and his dark eyes darted around mischievously. But he was so irresistibly cute that Wen Yan couldn’t help planting a kiss on his forehead. The boy, who had seemed to have ADHD just moments before, suddenly went still. His chin quivered as he clutched Wen Yan’s hand tightly. Wen Yan thought he was about to cry, only for Liang Wangyou to break into a huge grin.
Muah! He kissed right back.
Wen Yan touched the damp spot on his cheek. Liang Wangyou clambered off him and onto the table, banging his spoon against the bowl in a nonstop cheer. “Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan!”
The racket drew Consul Ji and several servants into the room. They doubled over with laughter.
Liang Wangyou’s hair was a tousled mess, cheese crumbs clinging to the corners of his mouth. One little leg stood straight, the other tapping a steady rhythm. Every time he shouted “Wen Yan,” his toes curled in perfect sync…
“Get down from there,” Wen Yan said, covering his face as laughter threatened to split his sides. “Come here for a hug.”
Liang Wangyou dove back into his arms, whispering extra softly this time. “Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan! Wen Yan!”
After breakfast, Wen Yan invoked his parental rights for the first time and called the school to excuse Liang Wangyou for the day. When the teacher asked if a parent was speaking, he whispered a quick yes. The two of them then headed to the study, where Wen Yan tutored the boy to keep him from falling behind on his lessons.
Li Li arrived that afternoon.
Blinding white light bathed the second-floor corridor. A convoy of black cars glided in from the far end of the Oak Corridor. Liang Wangyou, licking an ice cream ball, tugged at Wen Yan’s hand. “Wen Yan, that’s not Father’s car.”
“Yeah, it’s my friend’s,” Wen Yan said, gazing into the distance.
“So what do I call him? Auntie or Uncle?”
“He’s a beta. You can call him Uncle Li. He’s a really skilled doctor.”
The car eased to a stop in the designated spot. Li Li hopped out and waved enthusiastically. Wen Yan took Liang Wangyou’s hand and went down to greet him.
Li Li called out “Young Master” first, then squatted down to meet Liang Wangyou at eye level. The boy wiped his sticky, cold hand on his pants and extended it like a proper little gentleman. “Hello, Uncle Li.”
“Hello. What’s your name?” Li Li asked with a grin, shaking the small hand.
“I’m Liang Wangyou,” he replied obediently. “Also called Wen Wangyou.”
Li Li looked up in astonishment. Wen Yan nodded with a smile.
The three of them settled onto the sofas in the main hall. Consul Ji personally brought out refreshments: two glasses of tart juice for Wen Yan and Liang Wangyou, and a cup of coffee for Li Li. “Please enjoy.”
Li Li thanked him, then quietly took in the main hall.
The decor was simply elegant, the furniture grand yet understated. Most people imagined the Chief’s private residence as some gaudy palace dripping with gold and silver, but this was surprisingly low-key. If not for the prison-level security checks at the entrance and the sheer scale of the estate—spanning hundreds of thousands of square meters—Li Li might have mistaken it for an exquisite super-manor.
“Really nice,” he said, relieved to see Wen Yan living so well, with the Oak Bay servants treating him with utmost respect. He sighed like a concerned relative. “Really nice.”
Wen Yan ruffled Liang Wangyou’s hair. “Why don’t you go upstairs and play for a bit? I’ll chat with Uncle.”
“Okay.” Liang Wangyou took a big gulp from his juice glass. “See you later, Wen Yan. Bye, Uncle.”
Li Li watched the boy’s retreating figure. “He’s just too adorable.”
“He really is,” Wen Yan agreed with a knowing smile. “At five years old, he already handles things on his own. Nothing to worry about. He’s probably upstairs doing his homework right now.”
“His eyes are just like the Chief’s…” Li Li murmured.
“His temper too…” Wen Yan murmured in reply.
Li Li gave a discreet thumbs-up, not daring to voice the rest. How could that Chief—who could kill with a glance—have raised such a soft, fluffy little dumpling? The boy was lively and outgoing, polite to a fault, with rosy cheeks and a height well above average for his age. Every detail screamed meticulous care.
Betas just didn’t get it. Was this the innate superiority of an S-class Alpha?
“Is the Chief not home?” he asked curiously.
“He’s away on a business trip,” Wen Yan said. “He hasn’t given you any more trouble, has he? The phone I’m using now seems like one Liang Shijing used before. I’m not sure if it’s bugged, so I didn’t call.”
“Not at all.” Li Li waved it off. “Those bodyguards patrol my neighborhood around the clock. Hey, get this—I sleep like a baby now. Oh, and one time I forgot my keys, and they picked the lock for me, free of charge.”
“…” Wen Yan was at a loss for words. “These bodyguards can do everything…”
Not only logging every word an omega said to his dog, but moonlighting as locksmiths too…
“Yeah, except for that day you came back when they were pretty intimidating, they’re actually great the rest of the time.” Li Li pulled out a delicate little box with a smile. “This necklace is so valuable—I thought I’d really have to hold onto it for over a decade. You should keep it yourself.”
“Thanks.” Wen Yan accepted it gratefully. “Do you know about any private oceanariums in the capital?”
“There’s only one private one, as far as I know.” Li Li said. “Taking Little You to play? I went once—the grounds are huge, and there are plenty of fun attractions.”
“He loves looking at small animals. I want to buy an oceanarium and give it to him as a birthday present.” Wen Yan explained.
Li Li winced at the thought. Then he asked, “You planning to stay in the capital for good?”
The question was innocent enough from the asker, but it hit Wen Yan hard. He had never dared dwell on it. He had no idea how far his gland degeneration had progressed by now, but in truth, whatever the stage, if even Hu Li’s team was helpless, there was no point worrying. He just needed to make the most of whatever time he had left.
When Wen Yan didn’t answer right away, Li Li assumed he’d said something wrong. “What’s wrong? Sorry, if—”
“It’s fine.” Wen Yan smiled. “We won’t be staying here forever. We’ll go somewhere else eventually. Don’t worry about me. Everything’s good. Liang Shijing treats me well too.”
A brief silence fell. Li Li crossed his fingers. “Then you…”
Wen Yan knew some of the details from back then, but now he couldn’t make heads or tails of the relationship between himself and Liang Shijing. Going by the surface logic of what had happened with Wen Zecheng, Liang Shijing ought to hate him too. The blood feud for his parents’ murder had been settled, but for Liang Shijing to get tangled up with his enemy’s son like this… And yet, Liang Shijing didn’t seem to hate him at all. They even lived under the same roof, and their relationship appeared pretty good. If it was that good, then why was Wen Yan so set on leaving?
“Right,” Wen Yan said, as if struck by a sudden thought. “If an alpha isn’t in his susceptibility period but keeps getting fevers and headaches—especially craving omega pheromones—what illness would that point to?”
Li Li thought for a moment. “No other symptoms?”
“There are.” Wen Yan hemmed and hawed. “Just… some physiological reactions too…”
“Does the alpha show any aggression?”
“No.” Wen Yan shook his head. Nothing Liang Shijing had done could be called aggressive—not even a little. He’d even shed a single vulnerable tear in the dead of night once.
Li Li racked his brains for a while but came up empty. “Based on those symptoms, it sounds exactly like susceptibility period. But you say it’s not… If it’s not that, then I’m stumped.”
“Hm… If the alpha loses access to the omega’s pheromones, would his condition worsen?”
“Hard to say. It depends on the specific cause.”
They didn’t talk much longer before Li Li took his leave—he still had work at the company. Wen Yan saw him off, then headed upstairs first to stow the necklace in the safe room. After that, he went down to the first floor to get some ointment for reducing bruising and promoting blood flow from Hu Li, and to ask when the wound on Liang Wangyou’s chest might heal. As long as he stayed within Oak Bay, the bodyguards wouldn’t stop him from going anywhere on the grounds.
“Tian Xin, what’s the index on the newly upgraded biomimetic agent?” one lab tech asked.
The door was ajar, and their voices carried clearly. Wen Yan paused outside, planning to wait until they finished before knocking.
“223α per milligram,” the other tech replied, checking the report.
“Huh, the Chief’s been using biomimetic agents way less often lately. Feels like we could lower the index a bit, try gradual desensitization and see if it works.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same. But we’d need to run it by Director Hu first.”
“Speaking of which, it’s weird. Normally the Chief travels with the medical team from the Chief’s Mansion, so why’s Director Hu tagging along this time?”
“I dunno. Anyway, might as well get the lab data sorted while we’re at it. The report shows the Chief’s headaches dropped 39% month-over-month this month, fevers down 24%… but these physiological reactions just won’t go down.”
“Let me see.” The sound of a chair rolling across the floor.
“See? The wristband detects one every evening around six to seven. Super consistent.”
“Idiot, that’s when the Chief has dinner with Mr. Wen.”
“But yesterday afternoon around four, it detected one. Then nothing in the evening?”
The two inside kept chattering away, while outside, Wen Yan clutched the leg of his pants tightly. Yesterday the 1st had been Liang Wangyou’s match day. Around four in the afternoon, Liang Shijing’s fingers had been trailing up his back. And between six and seven… they hadn’t eaten dinner together last night.
So when Liang Shijing had draped that towel over his lap and told Liang Wangyou to wash for two more minutes, it was because…
“Hang on, something’s off. Let me check the dopamine secretion logs.”
“Wait, I’ll come with!”
Two sets of hurried footsteps faded into the distance. Wen Yan slipped slowly into the now-empty office area. The lab techs had locked their discussion materials in a cabinet, but they couldn’t lock up something as big as the computer. With trembling fingers, Wen Yan entered the password he’d glimpsed.
The folders inside were organized by year. The first one dated back five years ago. He clicked it open, and a flood of highly sensitive terms hit him: sexual cravings, restlessness, masturbation ineffective for relief, insomnia, headaches, fevers.
The symptoms section was clearly labeled: Pheromone Addiction.
Several seconds passed before Wen Yan flung the mouse away as if it had burned him and bolted. Back in his room, he desperately tried to distract himself with something—anything—but his focus wouldn’t budge.
So Liang Shijing wasn’t sick. He was addicted to Wen Yan’s pheromones. Making eye contact with him triggered physiological reactions. His scent activated the brain’s reward system, bringing pleasure. Without it, even masturbation couldn’t provide relief…
No wonder Hu Li had been so tight-lipped. It was this mortifying “illness.” But after all this time back, Liang Shijing had never done anything to him, never demanded anything—except that night when he’d feverishly kneaded his knee with erotic intent…
So he’d really been at his limit that night?
At least it wasn’t a disease, Wen Yan thought belatedly. At least Liang Shijing wouldn’t die without his pheromones. His condition had improved a lot already. At least…
But his gland had long since stopped producing pheromones… Would that custom neck ring really work?
A blinding flash lit up his mind, and he froze. He recalled that night when Liang Shijing had a fever, and Hu Li had insisted it was “heart addiction.” So what exactly was Liang Shijing addicted to?
Pheromones? Or…?
Wen Yan didn’t dare pursue the thought further. His head started throbbing again. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking ages to shove those ridiculous notions aside.
How could Liang Shijing possibly be addicted to him? The man didn’t smoke or drink, had no vices beyond a sweet tooth. He was as aloof as a living marble statue day in and day out. How could he… be addicted to his enemy’s son? To any one person?
It was absurd.
But soon enough, Wen Yan saw the light. Digging deeper into it was pointless anyway. The real takeaway was this: he’d never known what to do when his gland degeneration advanced to the point where he could no longer supply Liang Shijing with pheromones.
Now it seemed like fate had handed him the answer…
