Chapter 22#
Good Boy#
A plant’s growth instinctively craves water.
There was once a news report about a banyan seed that landed on a bridge and grew into a small tree. To keep living, it sent out roots over ten meters long, desperately reaching down until they touched the water.
This vine, sprouting anew from an “old stump,” was the same.
It was full of vigorous life, urgently searching in every direction for water to nourish its roots.
It had a powerful sense of smell.
Unlike animals and humans, who use their noses to detect scents, a plant’s olfactory system is simple and crude. They can capture scent molecules in the air, recognizing heat, cold, dryness, and moisture.
It keenly sniffed out that on this person’s body, there was a wet, gushing spring. The water within was not only rich in flavor, but also warm at just the right temperature.
Today, it would drink its fill.
The slender tip of the vine slithered first between the omega’s knees, climbing along the thin yet firm muscle lines of those legs, continuously crawling toward the water source.
The cold, slippery tendrils moved as deftly as a snake. It slipped beneath a small scrap of fabric, twisting silently, then squeezed into the valley and gully, finding the spring that radiated dampness.
Two leaves acted as hands, carefully parting it open.
Zhen Ye frowned in his sleep, letting out a muffled groan as he kicked at the sheets in discomfort. In his chaotic dream, he was being chased by a rope that seemed alive. The rope would wrap around his ankle, binding him, then split into many branches, tying up his hands too.
He had become prey for a predator, bound and trussed up, laid out on a board to be cut open.
A cold, wet little knife went in and out of his belly.
He was terrified, but his first reaction wasn’t that he was going to die—it was whether others would discover that he was an omega with deformed organs.
He trembled, his breath ragged, like a rabbit on a dissection table for experiments, indistinguishable between dying and convulsing.
Or perhaps both.
The omega’s heat-sweat dripped down along his waistline. In an instant, the vine tipped its leaves up to catch the drop, greedily inhaling it in big gulps. The droplet vanished into the thick, tough leaf, and the vine trembled with satisfaction, rustling… rustling…
But in another direction, it had drunk a little too greedily.
Zhen Ye choked and sobbed uncomfortably, the sound short and broken, as if he were being pinned down and abused.
It sensed his abnormal trembling, slipped down from under his sleepshirt, emerged from the collar, and crept up to his feverishly burning cheek.
It had no eyes, so it used its tendrils to carefully trace over his brows and eyes, trying to read his condition.
At the same time, it slowed down.
Slowly grinding.
After a while, Zhen Ye’s lower back suddenly arched tight, and his thin, lean belly rose and fell uncontrollably. His lashes were long and thick, trembling to cast a small, desperate shadow over his eyelids. When he finally evened out his breathing, a faint flush gradually spread across his face.
That flush was almost sickly—as if it carried both pain and pleasure.
As if someone had sprinkled sugar over his wound, then pressed close to lick it deeply—so strange, so sweet, and utterly addictive.
The vine flexed and withdrew.
Its bumpy, knotted surface dragged across the omega’s just-overloaded skin, sending a series of intense, electric shivers through him.
A tingling numbness that made his toes curl.
Zhen Ye’s brows relaxed slightly, carrying a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction. His sweat-dampened forehead sank into the pillow, nuzzling against it, while his hand groped through the air.
He was looking for the blanket, to hug.
The vine straightened his clothes, silently pulled the blanket back over him, and covered his still-warm body.
Like some kind of border collie—after playing, it picked up its toy and tidied everything away itself, so it would be ready for next time.
…
When Zhen Ye woke up in the morning, he found the sheets damp. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he silently got up to change them.
His constitution was terrible—like a vessel filled with water, always on the verge of overflowing.
It was fine now, since it wasn’t his heat period. But during that time, he not only needed three times the normal dose of suppressants for omegas, but also had to wear embedded suppositories at all times to suppress his intense cravings. Otherwise, he might lose his mind enough to grab any random alpha and desperately beg them to fuck him.
In short, without a boyfriend by his side, every single heat period was spent with extreme caution and difficulty.
Counting the days, it should be coming up soon.
Zhen Ye always prepared in advance. After changing the sheets, he turned and pulled open the drawer, looking for the leftover suppressants from last month.
But then, he suddenly discovered that the small packages labeled “Moisture-Lock Thin Film” were all torn open.
Zhen Ye picked them up—there were rough bite marks on the packaging.
What kind of strange creature would specifically attack his rubber sheaths?
Could it be…
Zhen Ye immediately thought of the big rat the neighbor had mentioned.
A wave of disgust hit him. He wrapped them in a tissue and threw away all the chewed-up sheaths. Then he brought out disinfectant and cleaned every nook and cranny of the room.
He hadn’t expected that by sweeping, he’d actually sweep out quite a few leaves.
Guess he should keep the windows closed more often from now on. The wind had blown all these dead leaves in.
After tidying up, Zhen Ye packed the suppressants into his carry-on bag. He picked up his new phone—his old files and photos had already been transferred over, but the apps still needed to be logged back in.
Logging onto the green messaging app, his eyes landed on an unfamiliar avatar. He froze for a moment before realizing that Mr. Rong had approved his friend request.
As for Rong Yu, he only knew that the man was the owner of Yuelai Villa. Beyond that, he knew nothing.
Curious, Zhen Ye tapped into Rong Yu’s avatar—blue sky, lake water, shimmering light reflecting the green mountains.
What a beautiful view. He wondered where it was taken.
He clicked into his Moments as well. The sparse posts were all about policy documents and industry news. Only one post had a bit of human warmth—a photo of a Doberman. The dog had a patch of white fur between its brows. It must have been an old dog kept for many years, no longer as imposing and majestic as it once was.
A mutual acquaintance had commented below.
[He Junhua]: Uncle Rong is so kind, taking such good care of Tina~ My family recently adopted a stray kitten too. Next time we meet, I’ll show you photos!
Below, he had replied:
Seeing this, Zhen Ye’s heart inexplicably tightened.
He Junhua knew the name of Rong Yu’s dog.
So… were they close?
·
“Tina! Tina, come here.”
The rubber ball was tossed into the air, and the Doberman chased after it. In the backlit glow of the setting sun, the dog leaped up, its long snout snapping at the ball—but it missed.
A dry, warm hand reached out and rubbed the dejected dog’s head. “Good boy, it’s not your fault.” Then he maneuvered his wheelchair to the lakeshore, bent down, and picked up the ball.
The evening glow was mottled and brilliant, dyeing the entire lake a blazing red. It gilded the two shadows—one throwing, one catching—in a soft, dreamlike light.
Lin Heye was led in by the steward and stopped beneath a tree. Watching his uncle Rong Yu play with the dog, a trace of mocking laughter couldn’t help but escape his lips.
Lin Heye didn’t call out to Rong Yu first. Instead, he called, “Tina!”
The Doberman wagged its tail uncertainly, not moving.
Lin Heye walked over with a smile. “Tina, don’t you recognize me? I used to feed you every day.”
Then he turned to Rong Yu, feigning surprise. “Uncle, Tina’s dementia is getting worse. How can you still let her out?”
Rong Yu said calmly, “It’s precisely because she’s sick that she needs to get out and move more.”
Lin Heye ignored that and walked behind Rong Yu, pushing the wheelchair. “Uncle, the evening wind is this strong, and you still come out to walk the dog. If you so much as sneeze, Maocheng would tremble three times. You’ve finally gotten out of the hospital this time—you should take care of yourself and stay indoors more.”
“After all, I’m keeping an eye on the company’s affairs for you. You can rest assured—”
Rong Yu suddenly reached back and grabbed his arm, stopping him. He glanced sideways coolly. “Heye, the effort you put into the group’s listing, and the proposal you stayed up all night working on—I saw it.”
Lin Heye’s heart skipped a beat, and a hint of eager anticipation flickered in his eyes.
Rong Yu said lightly, “I rejected it.”
Lin Heye’s smile instantly froze, the muscles in his face twisting and twitching. For a single moment, he truly wanted to strangle this domineering old alpha standing before him.
After all, Rong Yu had no wife, and no heir.
As long as he died, then everything belonging to Rongsen Group would be his—Lin Heye’s!