Chapter 24#
Intense Craving#
What Zhen Ye had done was truly outrageous.
Grabbing an alpha he barely knew to install an inhibitor for himself—and an embedded one at that. If word got out, even a random passerby would call the cops.
If you asked anyone else, they’d say it was utterly shame.less, lacking any of the gentleness and virtue an omega should possess. All those Daoist scriptures he’d read were wasted on a dog.
But what else could he do? He was just a lewd little rabbit like this. The Creator had made him, so that meant existence itself was justified, grabbing an alpha was correct, and sitting on their lap was forgivable… right?
Zhen Ye didn’t dare look at Rong Yu’s expression.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if the other would refuse, or call him a pervert, or scream for help.
He knew this was the other’s company. The commercial building’s walls were all built later and quite thin. If the alpha yelled, a hundred people could swarm in instantly to witness his crime.
But then again.
Didn’t Rong Yu care about his own reputation?
A big boss like him—surely his face mattered more than Zhen Ye’s.
Thinking of this, Zhen Ye figured he had nothing to lose. He straightened his back and threatened with the most clichéd line he knew from years of watching porn:
“Mr. Rong, you wouldn’t want people to see you being held hostage by an omega, would you?”
If anyone else had said that, they might already be dead.
But coming from the little rabbit—
Rong Yu’s lips curved slightly. He tilted his head in leisurely amusement, his eyes filled with unconcealed indulgence and intrigue:
“Then tell me, why do you think you managed to ’take me hostage’?”
Zhen Ye’s fever-addled brain struggled to turn. “Because I’m quick on my feet?”
Rong Yu chuckled and nodded, “Right, because the rabbit is quick on his feet.”
What Zhen Ye didn’t know was that with Rong Yu’s 3S-level strength, there was no such thing as being “caught off guard” in this world. Anyone who tried to get close and take him hostage would be pinned to the wall by his vines and smeared into paste.
If someone could push him away without permission.
Then it was because Rong Yu allowed it.
The “quick” rabbit, seeing Rong Yu nod, was satisfied. His two long, slender legs spread apart as he knelt, pressing against the edges of the wheelchair on either side. He lowered his head and slowly tugged at his zipper.
He should have worn a suit to the interview, or at least dressed more formally.
But the rabbit hadn’t. He could only manage a pair of black jeans, making do.
The jeans were old—both in style and color—and indeed they were old. They were from high school, and he’d never thrown them out. Now that he’d grown taller, the pant legs were a bit short. Fortunately, he was skinny enough to still squeeze into them.
But just by the style, they were clearly a teenager’s clothes.
And so in Rong Yu’s eyes, this scene took on a subtle, forbidden, almost adolescent quality.
As if the boy who once wept before the grave was now, in some lewd manner, spreading his body open to offer a sacrifice…
Zhen Ye had just pulled the zipper all the way down and was about to peel them off.
When a large hand with prominent veins clamped down, wrapping around his hand and forcibly yanking the zipper back up.
Zhen Ye looked up urgently. “What are you doing?”
So infuriating. Why hadn’t he brought a rope today, to tie this alpha’s hands up?
“Not allowed.” Rong Yu’s eyes darkened. He remembered that rainy night in the car, when the omega had held his thing and tried to lower himself onto it. He thought the other was about to repeat that mistake.
Zhen Ye’s mind was filled with nothing but the interview countdown, and he didn’t care about any of that. Hearing that the alpha was unwilling, he forgot that he was supposed to be the hostage-taker and immediately started getting off him.
“Then I’ll find someone else.”
Completely decisive.
He even pried the inhibitor rod out of Rong Yu’s palm.
Now it wasn’t Zhen Ye who was panicking.
Rong Yu grabbed him, pulling him back into his arms and tightening his hold. His tone was still firm, but his voice lowered: “No.”
“Why not again?” Zhen Ye was confused by his inconsistency.
“All the alphas outside are dangerous.”
“…”
Like he was describing a savanna full of beasts.
Now Zhen Ye was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.
He was at a critical moment, every nerve screaming, do it, do it, do it. If he were standing alone, he could endure it. But this alpha was holding him, roasting him over an open fire!
Zhen Ye shoved at him angrily, no longer wanting to be held. He wanted to go splash cold water on his face to calm down.
He reached out to push against the alpha’s sturdy, powerful forearm, but his fingertip brushed against something like a watch.
He didn’t know what he pressed, but—click—a soft sound.
“Switching to low setting.”
What?
Zhen Ye instinctively looked down. Oh, the inhibitor bracelet—
The next second, his body was yanked back hard. Like a sudden downpour, Rong Yu’s originally gentle and restrained pheromones suddenly burst their banks, descending with a near-ferocious force, blanketing everything.
Zhen Ye was slammed into something soft yet firm.
In his panic,
“…”
—Pecs!
·
Zhen Ye absolutely loved the pectorals of male creatures.
Maybe it was from watching too many cartoons as a kid. Not the Beast Prince from Beauty and the Beast, but the vine kind.
—Though neither was human, both radiated power.
Zhen Ye’s obsession with the humanoid doll Owen was also because Owen was the only one among the five bionic alpha models from Ouyi Company with a chest circumference over 100cm.
He didn’t even dare imagine how happy he’d be, locking the door every night and riding the bionic machine while enjoying himself.
When he’d visited the company’s showroom, he couldn’t resist squeezing the bionic robot’s chest a couple times.
The bionic skin and muscle were filled with food-grade silicone. This new material had good elasticity, and the simulated muscle felt quite realistic. The material slowly bounced back, so squeezing it a few times was quite satisfying.
But compared to a well-trained real person, it fell a bit short.
Zhen Ye never denied being a perverted rabbit. Lust is human nature; he was simply a bastard like that.
When Rong Yu yanked him back, he didn’t resist at all. He immediately pressed his face against it, taking the chance to feel some “real human texture.”
Thump-thump, thump-thump. He pressed his ear close and listened. Zhen Ye’s face burned red. A real alpha’s chest didn’t just rise and fall—you could hear the violent heartbeat. When the muscles inhaled, they were harder; when exhaling, they softened a degree.
And, and…
Zhen Ye secretly inhaled.
With the heat of his body temperature, it evaporated, releasing a lovely pheromone scent. Not the overly thick smell from that harassing CEO earlier, but a natural, damp forest wood fragrance. Intense but clear, wrapping around a person and making every breath comfortable…
Top-shelf liquor grade.
Zhen Ye began to feel dizzy without realizing it. His face rubbed against the alpha’s thin knit sweater, squirming restlessly. His knees, still in a kneeling position, pressed together, his lower abdomen tensing into a taut line. He whispered a plea, begging the other for the inhibitor.
The shape, the size, of something was subtly changing.
He didn’t notice the barely restrained gaze resting on him. The lighting in the accessible restroom was dim, casting dark shadows beneath Rong Yu’s deep brow bone. In the depths of those black eyes burned a cold fire, growing stronger, burning brighter, fed by the omega’s dazed rubbing.
Rong Yu suddenly turned his face away.
A faint crimson flickered in his shifting pupils.
So it was heat.
It wasn’t that he was oblivious to romance. But his rank was so high that he was required to register with the state, and the inhibitor bracelet he wore was specially made. Not only did it prevent his pheromones from leaking outward, it also blocked other omegas’ scents from getting in.
Under normal circumstances, he could only smell faint, limited traces.
But now, with his inhibitor bracelet dialed to the lowest setting, Zhen Ye’s rich bergamot pheromones surged around him all at once. As an alpha, he knew exactly what this meant.
This was the signal of pleading to mate.
But he couldn’t.
In his eyes, Zhen Ye had always been a child.
He would not mate with a child so much smaller than him in both body and mind. Even if the other had grown up, physically mature, and even—his gaze inadvertently swept over the omega’s rapidly rising and falling lower abdomen.
Even capable of bearing children.
Rong Yu’s eyes darkened. He took a deep breath, veins standing out on his elongated neck. The self-control he had always prided himself on was hanging by a thread.
Click.
Ten minutes passed. The sensor light went out.
The instant darkness fell, Zhen Ye’s body visibly stiffened. He grew tense, a little at a loss.
But Rong Yu quickly soothed him, tracing a hand lightly down his arched back like petting a pitiful animal, then leaned close to his ear, his magnetic voice lowered:
Just put this in, right?
Zhen Ye slowly nodded.
In truth, with his scattered mental state right now, if something else were stuffed in—something bigger, heavier—he wouldn’t have refused.
He pulled his clothes down again. The black jeans pooled around his knees like shackles, locking the omega’s legs in place.
In the darkness, Rong Yu touched him slowly.
The alpha’s fingertips, slightly cool, brushed across his skin, bringing a faint, unfamiliar itch. Zhen Ye sobered a little, realizing what outrageous thing he was doing. A strong wave of shame flushed his cheeks.
His face burned, his skin burned, and the heat between his legs was absurdly hot. Zhen Ye couldn’t understand it either—he had always hated alpha touches, so why did he accept this one so readily?
Maybe it was the attitude. Maybe the scent.
He was a sensitive, utterly terrible omega. Though it was strange to say, he could indeed discern people’s moods and attitudes from their pheromones.
Warmth, respect, or humiliation, contempt… he could smell it all.
The boss lady at the hotpot restaurant where he’d worked once said he had high emotional intelligence. He could tell which customer was happy about getting engaged, and which customer was in a bad mood and about to cause trouble to get out of paying.
But she didn’t know that Zhen Ye’s “gift” had grown from long days of coping with pain. He had to read the room, avoid disasters, stay far away from his father when he was in a bad mood—so he wouldn’t ruin an ordinary day of his youth.
He had racked his brains and made efforts for exactly this.
And now, Zhen Ye’s hard-won ability landed on Rong Yu in an unexpected way.
When the alpha’s long fingers parted his tight entrance, Zhen Ye lowered his head and once again deeply inhaled the other’s scent.
Not condescending, not the slightest bit of mockery.
Only protection.
It was the scent of shielding and cherishing him.
Zhen Ye felt a pang of bitterness.
Even a low-grade omega like me deserves to be treated this carefully?
Mr. Rong was truly a good man.
Such a good man.
When I get the chance later, I definitely need to find a way to trick him into strengthening me.
Zhen Ye thought in a daze.
Meanwhile, deep inside his burning belly, the inhibitor was being buried inch by inch. He couldn’t bear it and laid his head on the alpha’s broad, sturdy shoulder.
He knew this person had no real relationship with him, but he still knelt there, in a posture that bordered on overstepping, arms looping around the alpha’s neck.
He silently bit his lip. Under the other’s gentle touch, his body trembled uneasily. When his inner walls were brushed, he nearly let out an inappropriate whimper.
So this was different from doing it himself, and being touched by someone else.
So Mr. Rong’s fingertips also had thin calluses.
The inhibitor sank in, with a short cotton string left outside.
He didn’t know that Rong Yu could see in the dark. Nursing a secretive thought, Rong Yu pinched the thin cotton string between two fingers and slowly rolled it.
So fast. Already wet.
The omega was at his limit. Because of his movements, his thin, upright waist had been arched taut, about to snap. But Rong Yu was a man of thoroughness—if you entrusted yourself to him, he would see you properly settled.
Rong Yu swept his night-seeing gaze over the omega. So slick. Wearing clothes like this would be uncomfortable. He unhurriedly took out his own clean handkerchief, one hand holding the omega’s leg steady, the other gently dabbing him dry.
From the tensed thigh muscle to the hip bone, tracing the curve. Zhen Ye trembled harder, his breathing on the alpha’s body a mess, as if he were dying, letting out broken syllables. Finally unable to bear it, Zhen Ye licked his neck pleadingly, clamped his legs tight, and trapped the other’s hand between them.
Poor little rabbit.
Rong Yu pinched his cheek, almost affectionately, coaxing him: “Good child, almost done.”
That “good child” somehow struck some nerve in Zhen Ye. He curled up suddenly, toes cramping, ankles curling tightly around Rong Yu’s leg.
Rong Yu felt the shirt on his forearm gradually dampen.
He didn’t mind. Instead, he rolled up his sleeve a bit and coaxed the omega to ride on his muscular forearm. To the young omega clinging to his shoulder, he whispered indulgently: “My hand is right here, not moving. You can do whatever you want.”
Zhen Ye had ridden toys, ridden wooden sticks. This was the first time riding an alpha’s arm with its rippling veins and muscles.
That feeling…
Anyway, when he reached the peak, Zhen Ye couldn’t help it—he bit the man’s neck, right there within reach.
Licking at the high-grade alpha pheromones seeping out mixed with blood.
Ah.
So good.
…
It was over. Damn it.
He’d bitten him again.
The first time could be excused as an accident. The second time was clearly intentional.
Zhen Ye’s heart was in a panic, unable to explain himself. The alpha, in contrast, was pressing long fingers against his temple, rubbing it calmly, looking completely unbothered.
Zhen Ye thought to himself in admiration:
This guy… he’s so docile…
Setting aside his appearance and temperament, even his reaction after being marked by an omega was more stable than any human had a right to be.
If Zhen Ye hadn’t personally squeezed his chest… ah, his pecs, he would have suspected the man was a fake.
Zhen Ye silently pulled his pants back on. While feeling guilty, he also felt oddly like a jerk who’d gotten what he wanted and left.
A flash of memory—Du Guan’s words at the mountain villa last time: “After he’s marked by you, he’ll go mad—”
Zhen Ye thought it over and decided to take off his jacket, handing it to Rong Yu. He tried to keep his expression calm, even though the pheromones filling the air constantly reminded him of the absurd thing he’d done.
“Here, take my jacket. In case you… uh, have an episode later.”
“Episode?” Rong Yu raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, craving my pheromones.” Zhen Ye took a deep breath. “I need to go to my interview now. If possible, please wait an hour for me. I—”
He looked up. “I will definitely take responsibility for you.”
Rong Yu’s expression gradually became unreadable.
Zhen Ye hurriedly tidied himself up, walked out of the accessible restroom, and left Mr. Rong inside. Before leaving, he forcibly draped his jacket, which carried his pheromones, over Rong Yu.
This felt so weird.
He’d become like the sleazy male lead in a movie who casually marks an omega, offering no comfort, only a jacket, leaving the other there in emptiness and loneliness.
Zhen Ye felt guilty as he quickly ran upstairs.
He was moving too fast to notice the accessible restroom door slowly opening behind him.
A watchful gaze followed him until his figure disappeared.
Rong Yu’s long lashes lowered slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times. In the empty corridor, he raised his hand and inhaled the scent on his fingertips.
Bergamot, of the citrus family, was known as the “gentleman among scents.” Faint at first, it deepened as it matured. If an omega’s pheromones were merely bergamot, it wouldn’t be remarkable. But Zhen Ye’s scent uniquely carried a hint of ginger’s spice.
That spiciness tempered the bergamot’s freshness, stirring a powerful appetite.
Savoring the scent, his mind conjured the image of the young man pressing his hips down onto his lap. The omega’s long, thick lashes fluttered. When he turned his head, he unconsciously revealed his pale nape, skin damp with sweat. One could easily imagine how slick and creamy it would feel to touch.
Rong Yu lowered his head slightly and, matter-of-factly, curled his cool tongue to lick his finger.
Tasting it.
Then slowly, meticulously, he sucked each of his remaining four long fingers, slick with the rabbit’s wetness, one by one.
Fragrant.
Spicy.
Spicy rabbit.
·
When Zhen Ye returned to the waiting area, he found it wasn’t his turn yet and sighed in relief. He quickly put his scent patch back on the back of his neck, then stood by the air vent for a while to air out the smell before returning to his seat.
Perhaps because this embedded inhibitor was more effective, Zhen Ye’s fever soon subsided, and his mind cleared up considerably.
He used the remaining time to review potential interview questions, then heard a call: “Is Zhen Ye here? Zhen Ye!”
Zhen Ye stood up, steadied his breathing, raised his head, and walked in.
This was his second interview, a supervisor round. His slot was late, so by the time it was his turn, the R&D supervisor was already tired from reviewing. But glancing to the side—the CEO was sitting there with his legs crossed—the supervisor had no choice but to muster his energy and pick up the omega’s resume.
Nothing much to see.
Everyone before had been from Maocheng University, Jingcheng University, or at worst a Top 985. But Zhen Ye? He’d graduated from some no-name French university—what was it called, Sorbonne? Never heard of it. Not even in the QS top 50.
The only highlight on the resume was “participated in R&D of bionic human personality modules”—but when the person sat down and was questioned closely: “So which company did you intern at?”
Zhen Ye: “It wasn’t an internship. I just worked on a project online with two like-minded friends.”
The supervisor frowned, pressing further: “What was the project specifically?”
Zhen Ye’s heart jumped. Countless images flashed through his mind, which he forcefully suppressed.
Lowering his lashes, he answered conservatively: “It was a small, non-profit project with servers overseas. Mainly developing emotional interaction modules for bionic humans. Roughly 2 million monthly active users.”
For the project name, he said a foreign word very quickly. The supervisor didn’t catch it anyway.
The supervisor didn’t need to understand. At this point, his expression was already impatient.
A small project with 2 million MAU? What a joke.
Couldn’t even make up something realistic. Did he think he was that overseas studio that won the “Electric Sheep” bionic design award?
He’d heard this batch of resumes was screened by General Manager Lin Heye. That leader’s “appreciation for beauty” when it came to omegas was famous far and wide.
Probably hired by looks, right?
Grumbling aside, the process had to be finished. The supervisor asked the final basic question everyone had to answer:
“What do you think of our company’s current products? If hired, how would you improve them?”
This was a big, very open-ended question.
There was no fixed answer.
But every candidate here was sharp, knowing that to get into the company, they’d need to align with its direction—at minimum, flatter it a little.
But Zhen Ye wasn’t like that.
He leaned forward slightly, sat up straight, and a glint of stubborn earnestness passed through his eyes. “I think your company’s products are too expensive.”
Supervisor: “…?”
That’s it?
Zhen Ye said, “I don’t know your sales figures this quarter, but there’s one of your stores near where I work. Since autumn began, every time I pass by, hardly anyone goes in. A starting price of 168,000 is enough to scare off 90% of potential users.”
“Although I know the price is high because it includes a series of complex customization services.”
“‘External plugin’ shape customization with molds, skin tone adjustment, facial feature adjustment, plus personality tests, pheromone tests, hobby surveys, and a 300-question user needs questionnaire—all of it, everything, is designed to manufacture a machine lover that perfectly fits the user’s preferences.”
Zhen Ye paused, his tone growing stronger, quietly radiating confidence: “But is there a chance that ’the feeling of being in love’ doesn’t need the other party to understand you perfectly, but rather unexpected surprises within reason?”
Unlike mainstream opinion.
In Zhen Ye’s view, a perfect lover was destined to be boring and dull.
After all, even the birthday gift “he” gives you is something you already filled out in the survey.
Even if you’d enjoy the deep understanding and compatibility at first, in the long run, you’d definitely lose the novelty.
Humans were strange creatures.
In relationships, they wanted the other to understand you, yet also wanted them to surprise you.
I want clothes, I want shoes, I want bags. But you can’t just give me clothes, shoes, and bags. You have to take me to watch the sunset, stomp through the waves, roll up wet pant legs, and excitedly go eat a meal I’ve never tried but unexpectedly love.
—I didn’t even know I’d like this.
—But you brought it into my life.
People fall in love for that single moment of dopamine.
“So I believe your company’s approach to customizing bionic humans caters too much to fulfilling individual customer needs, sacrificing ’negative space.’ Not only does it drive up costs, it also robs customers of the joy of exploring and training their machine lover’s personality.”
“At 168,000, many omegas could grit their teeth and afford it, like buying a car or an expensive piece of furniture. But if it’s your company’s current product, then I’m sorry.”
“—It’s completely not worth that price.”
Zhen Ye’s tone was forceful and certain, as if these pain points and ideas had already turned over in his mind a hundred times.
But after the supervisor heard him out, he laughed—a laugh with unconcealed contempt:
“‘Negative space’? Lower costs? Are you trying to sell our high-end bionic humans like robot vacuums at 999? I hope you understand. Our users want exclusive customization. They’re spending 160,000 to buy a companion that ‘understands me.’ Not to bring home a half-finished product to tinker with.”
Zhen Ye calmly retorted: “‘High-end’ doesn’t mean trapping the user experience in a 200-question survey. Should someone who spends 160,000 get a rigid toy that just follows programming?”
The supervisor’s face darkened. He pushed the resume aside and sneered: “It seems your understanding of bionic humans for omegas is quite shallow. The position we’re hiring for needs someone who can maintain our brand identity. In my view, your professional competence doesn’t meet the standard at all.”
Zhen Ye frowned, about to explain further. Lin Heye, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly laughed:
“You don’t seem to understand. Bionic humans are like Rolexes—a luxury item.”
“The 168,000 price tag is specifically designed to filter out the poor.”
Lin Heye stood up, looking down at Zhen Ye with amusement:
“And I had the company open stores in lower-income neighborhoods, marked at high prices, precisely so people like you know—this is something you’ll never afford in your lifetime.”
“This is brand value.” He said with no small amount of arrogance.
Zhen Ye stood up.
He stepped out, then turned back, and suddenly yanked the resume out from under the supervisor’s elbow.
The supervisor’s elbow slipped, and his face slammed into the desk with a bang. He winced in pain. “What are you doing!”
Zhen Ye sneered. “Job hunting is a two-way street. When philosophies clash, there’s no point in cooperating. I also have the right not to choose you.”
He pushed the door open and left, but after taking two steps, Lin Heye caught up and blocked his path.
Lin Heye used the same trick as before, backing him step by step against the wall. Looking at the wary omega in front of him, thinking of his stubborn nature, Lin Heye was delighted.
This was the flavor. Fiery. Exciting.
Way more interesting than those dull college students from last time.
Lin Heye lowered himself, leaning close to the omega’s delicate face, whispering by his ear with a teasing smile: “What, angry? Feeling humiliated because I called you poor?”
“Don’t be mad. Beg me. Beg me, and I’ll give you a bionic human to play with, how about that?”
Give you a bionic human.
Zhen Ye’s heart skipped a beat.
Lin Heye inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the light caramel-colored, downy-soft strands of his hair: “Hah, you smell so strong, so good. Are you in hea—”
Before he could finish, Zhen Ye kicked him!
The angle was vicious. Lin Heye immediately let out a screeching scream, clutching his crotch as he collapsed.
Now it was Zhen Ye looking down at him.
Zhen Ye’s face was cold as he curled his lip. “Don’t get fucking desperate around me.”
Lin Heye’s face was twisted in agony, wondering if he’d ever be able to perform again, glaring at him viciously: “I’ll call the police, have you arrested… make your life worse than death!”
“Fine.”
Zhen Ye calmly stepped over him without looking back, tossing him a line: “Go ahead and make a scene. Let the whole world know that the CEO of omega-use bionic humans harasses omegas at the office.”
That day, every employee on the floor heard Young Master Lin’s voice.
It was a hoarse, desperate, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck—aaaaahhhh!!”
·
As Zhen Ye went downstairs, for a few moments he wondered if he’d overreacted.
After all, he was there to find a job, not to argue with the interviewers. If he’d just been more submissive, maybe he’d have been hired.
But a person couldn’t romanticize the path they didn’t want to take. Job hunting was about chemistry. If the company’s culture didn’t fit, even if he got in, he’d suffer later.
And his mental state couldn’t take much more torment.
Zhen Ye pushed work aside for now. At the moment, he had another important matter.
He walked out of the elevator, feeling a bit nervous. He’d asked Mr. Rong to wait an hour, but he wasn’t sure the other would stay.
However, as soon as he walked out through the gates, Zhen Ye spotted a familiar face.
Du Rui waved at him, signaling him over, and called out with a smile: “Young Master Zhen, the master is waiting for you.”
Zhen Ye’s heart immediately settled back into his stomach.
Du Rui led him to the underground parking garage. Today they’d switched cars again—this time a Rolls-Royce Phantom.
Zhen Ye opened the door and got in. His first impression was that the car looked a bit familiar. He didn’t remember being carried into this car on that rainy night; he just subconsciously judged that the backseat was quite spacious.
Meanwhile, Du Rui sat in the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror and glancing back.
The Phantom’s rear seats were originally two separate premium seats with a multifunctional console in the middle.
But who would’ve thought that ever since their master rescued that omega that night, he’d started finding the console annoying. The next day, he had it removed, the seats torn out, and replaced with a long bench seat.
Now he could “exchange feelings” with the omega without any obstruction.
Zhen Ye didn’t know any of these intricate details.
In his eyes, Rong Yu was simply a pure victim of rabbit crime. And the “harm” he’d inflicted was more than just once.
Although the two had agreed to wait until tomorrow, Tuesday, when Rong Yu would have fully metabolized his pheromones and regained his senses, to discuss the contract.
Who would’ve thought Zhen Ye would go and commit “forced love” again, rekindling the spark with Rong Yu.
Now that it had happened twice, Zhen Ye couldn’t avoid it anymore. The responsibility was indeed entirely his. He was determined to accept all the consequences of his actions.
“Mr. Rong,” Zhen Ye leaned forward in his seat. In his eyes, still flushed from the heat, was a resolve to steady his heart, “I’m willing to accept the contract. I’ll move to your place tomorrow and submit to your… disposal. Is that acceptable?”
Rong Yu’s gaze shifted subtly. He didn’t agree directly but posed a critical question: “You’re going back to that shared rental tonight?”
Zhen Ye nodded. He could go to his grandmother’s place, but she was already in poor health, and he didn’t want to trouble her.
He could handle this heat period by himself in his rental room.
A shadow passed over Rong Yu’s eyes. “Are there any alphas among your roommates?”
Zhen Ye paused, remembering the alpha boyfriend in the couple next door.
He answered truthfully: “There is one, but it should be fine—he has a steady partner. I’ve gone through heat in the rental before. Locking the door, taping up the cracks, and bracing it with a chair keeps things manageable. The only hassle is going out to the bathroom.”
He described it lightly, trying to ease Rong Yu’s concerns.
But he didn’t know that this marked alpha, calm and composed on the surface, harbored a primal possessiveness deep in his dark pupils.
Through this account, Rong Yu seemed to peel back the omega’s past and glimpse a corner of his life.
An omega in heat was extremely sensitive. Due to their special constitution and susceptibility to pregnancy, they were naturally afraid of intrusion. They needed to constantly confirm security through their environment to reduce anxiety and get through the days peacefully.
But the little rabbit’s neighborhood was old and noisy. Not only was space cramped with people coming and going constantly, the doors of the old building were extremely flimsy—one good kick would smash them in.
Far, far from the word “safe.”
Rong Yu could imagine it.
The little rabbit, afraid his high-concentration pheromones would leak out and attract ill-intentioned people, would lock the door as tightly as possible and hide inside.
To minimize trips to the bathroom, he’d barely drink water. Hungry, thirsty, and dazed, he’d grit his teeth and endure three days.
Other omegas his age were still treasured like pearls at home.
But this rabbit? He was going through a trial by fire.
Rong Yu couldn’t just stand by and do nothing about that.
He turned his gaze to Zhen Ye, his voice cooling slightly: “Move out today. I’ll have Du Rui go with you to collect your things.”
Zhen Ye pressed his lips together, a faint, subtle unease and anxiety flickering through him. He’d said tomorrow because he wanted to give himself time to mentally prepare. Having the other push it up now vaguely felt like being pressured.
Of course, this unease was mostly due to his depression, his sensitivity. Now, he forced himself to stay calm and attempted to negotiate:
“Mr. Rong, I have quite a lot of stuff. There’s no way I can pack it all in such a short time. How about I pack tonight and head to your place first thing tomorrow morning? Would that work?”
This was already close to a concession.
But the alpha said lightly: “Having a lot of things isn’t a problem. I’ll send people to help. You don’t need to lift a finger. Just sit with me.”
Zhen Ye: “But—”
Rong Yu raised his deep eyes, a faint gleam in them like he could swallow a person whole. But below, those slightly curved lips made him seem gentle and reasonable.
He called his name softly:
“Zhen Ye.”
Zhen Ye’s breath caught.
“I’ve been marked by you twice.”
Zhen Ye’s scalp tightened.
He thought the other was about to say something coercive. But the alpha’s lips held a faint curve as he spoke slowly:
“I need you right now.”
Zhen Ye’s heart skipped a beat, weightlessly.
“You promised to take responsibility for me.”
“What if something happens to you, and you can’t provide me with your pheromones, leaving me restless and frantic—then what, hm?”
“Zhen Ye.”
The man pressed his thin lips together. Perhaps because the car’s AC was on high, his lips were as red as blood. He called out again and again—Zhen Ye, Zhen Ye—the trailing syllables tangling together, unsettling to the heart.
Zhen Ye’s lashes fluttered, his breathing quickening. He accidentally met those ink-black, lacquer-dot eyes.
The man’s long fingers slowly hooked his own collar and pulled it down, revealing on his long, pale neck a bite mark still faintly seeping blood.
Fresh. And plainly visible.
Exposing Zhen Ye’s “crime.”
But there was no hint of reproach. He only said, in a gentle, negotiating tone:
“Zhen Ye, you bit me, so today you have to be considerate of me.”
“Come with me now, okay?”
Their distance wasn’t close, and their body language wasn’t intimate. But Zhen Ye felt, from across the space, like a snake was coiling tightly around him—making him nervous yet strangely excited.
He didn’t know why, but he kind of liked being entangled by Mr. Rong.
Maybe because he was the one who had marked Rong Yu, not the other way around—Rong Yu hadn’t possessed him.
The other restrained himself from releasing any aggression, yet constantly reminded him that it was the alpha who had truly been invaded.
As an omega, for the first time in his life, within a controlled and safe range, Zhen Ye had gained a little bit of agency.
It was a novel feeling.
Even if his brain was frantically sounding alarms, warning him this might be a cunning retreat-to-advance strategy devised by an older, wiser man.
But Zhen Ye thought, then at least he’d put in the effort to seduce me. Compared to some CEO pinning someone against the wall, stupidly and greasily licking his lips, this was a much higher-level play.
Even if it’s a trap, I’ll jump.
Thump—the rabbit leaps.
He answered, “Okay.”
So it was decided on the spot—they drove straight to Zhen Ye’s place to pick up his luggage.
When they arrived, Rong Yu handed Zhen Ye his jacket back. “Put this on. It’s cold outside. Don’t catch a chill.”
Zhen Ye took the jacket, looked at the composed Mr. Rong, and remembered something.
Weird.
Rong Yu had been bitten by him, so he should need to take in high concentrations of omega pheromones. The little bit on his jacket shouldn’t have been nearly enough.
Rong Yu should be showing intense craving.
But the other was acting perfectly normal now. What was going on?
Was it because…