Chapter 25#
Little Rabbit Moves#
Could it be that he’d been injected with artificial heat-inducing pheromones?
But from what Zhen Ye knew, artificial pheromones—unlike natural ones—took much longer to take effect. He and Mr. Rong had only been separated for an hour, so the effects shouldn’t have kicked in that quickly.
Maybe it was some kind of premium pheromone not sold on the open market?
Thinking of how Mr. Rong had transferred a million yuan without so much as blinking, Zhen Ye felt this theory was the most plausible.
The thought passed in a flash. Zhen Ye called his roommate to let him know, then headed upstairs with Du Rui.
Meanwhile, downstairs in the car.
In the dim, shadowed cabin, the faint scent of bergamot lingered, growing fainter as Zhen Ye walked away.
The Alpha, who had been sitting upright, lowered his gaze, a flush of deep red seeping into the corners of his eyes. Imperceptibly, he reached into his trouser pocket, and in a flash, a handkerchief appeared between his long, slender fingers.
The handkerchief unfolded, slightly crumpled, still carrying traces of an ambiguous dampness.
In the cramped, unseen confines of the car, the Alpha’s nose—straight and sharp as a sculpted statue’s—buried itself slowly into the soft, damp fabric.
Slowly.
Into the lungs.
Suddenly, he seized a vine-like tendril that had anxiously poked out from his own cuff, also trying to burrow into the wet part of the handkerchief, and shoved it back into his sleeve.
Then, he continued to claim it exclusively…
……
When Zhen Ye said he had a lot of stuff, it wasn’t a lie.
As the bedroom door swung open, Du Rui froze, staring at the teetering piles of boxes and cabinets crammed into every gap of the room. There was barely any floor to stand on.
And the room was especially small.
So small you could see the whole thing at a glance. When the light was off, it was pitch black inside, as suffocating as a coffin.
Du Rui instinctively glanced to the side. One wall of this bedroom was flush against the living room. The wall’s color was lighter than the other rooms—clearly a partition the landlord had slapped up to rent out one extra room.
Du Rui had lived in a room like this when he’d first come out to find work. The wall panels were thin; any noise outside was deafening inside. Staying long enough would fray your nerves.
Du Rui asked, “How’d you end up in a place like this?”
Zhen Ye shoved both hands into his coat pockets, utterly unconcerned. “Cheap. Only eight hundred a month. When I first came out, I only had a thousand yuan on me, so this is where I landed.”
Du Rui walked into the kitchen, his gaze sweeping over a pile of unwashed dirty dishes in the sink and the clutter of pots and pans on the stove. “Young Master Zhen, do you have stuff in the kitchen too?”
“I do.” Zhen Ye bent slightly, opened the cabinet door, and showed him a neat stack of bowls inside. “These are mine. The wok below is mine too. I also have a rice cooker. And seasonings, oil, two bundles of dried noodles…”
Du Rui’s expression twisted oddly. “You’re taking all of this?”
Zhen Ye’s expression faltered for a moment as he realized this move was different from before. He was moving into Mr. Rong’s house—he probably wouldn’t need any of this junk.
Zhen Ye shut the cabinet door and said nonchalantly, “If it’s too much trouble, I can just throw it out.”
Du Rui nodded and was about to speak when he suddenly looked past Zhen Ye.
“It’s no trouble at all.”
A low voice came from behind. Zhen Ye turned around to find Rong Yu’s wheelchair rolling over the clutter and takeout boxes strewn across the living room floor, coming to a stop beside him.
Zhen Ye was surprised. “How did Mr. Rong get up here?”
Rong Yu said lightly, “The wheelchair climbs stairs by itself.”
Zhen Ye chuckled. “Now that’s high-tech.”
Du Rui kept his eyes down and his nose clean, inwardly thinking—that’s not technology, it’s way more impressive than high-tech…
Rong Yu lifted his gaze, quietly fixing it on Zhen Ye. “Anything of yours, you can take.”
Zhen Ye couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Mr. Rong. Take a look at my bedroom first.”
“Is it that terrifying?” Rong Yu raised an eyebrow.
Zhen Ye was well aware of his own situation. “Comparable to a warehouse.”
The wheelchair turned, and Rong Yu actually took his word for it, rolling over to take a look. The walls were covered with hookless hangers, stuffed full of miscellaneous items. The desk was so small there was no room to stretch your elbows, with three rolling storage bins tucked underneath. The only wardrobe was packed to bursting, its doors unable to close, looking like it might overflow at any moment.
But amid all the clutter and chaos, Rong Yu still noticed traces of someone trying to live.
A small cactus by the window. Books sealed in resealable bags to keep them from oxidizing. And a violin case propped against the wall—though its gold foil had peeled away, it was free of dust.
“You play the violin?” Rong Yu asked abruptly.
Zhen Ye glanced at the case. “Learned when I was little. I’ve just about forgotten everything by now.”
“How little?”
“Mm, around fourteen?” Zhen Ye recalled. “I stopped after passing Level 10.”
Rong Yu thought for a moment. “Level 10 is the highest amateur level for violin, isn’t it?”
Du Rui, standing nearby, chimed in, “That’s a shame. Why didn’t you keep going, Young Master Zhen?”
Zhen Ye’s lashes trembled slightly, and his tone was calm as he said, “Because my mom passed away.”
That sentence had many layers of interpretation. It could mean that with his mother gone, his father was no longer willing to pay for music lessons. Or that with his mother gone, his new stepmother didn’t like him playing the violin at home.
Zhong Liyun thought his violin practice was too noisy and would always knock on his door to interrupt him. At first, her voice was soft and gentle, telling Zhen Ye she had migraines and couldn’t listen to this kind of thing at home.
Fourteen-year-old Zhen Ye gradually calmed down and told himself he had to live under someone else’s roof. He shouldn’t start conflicts with these people.
He stopped practicing.
But one day, when he came home, he found a moving truck parked at the villa’s entrance.
The movers carried down an expensive Steinway piano. He Junhua joyfully hugged his father. “Thank you, Daddy, for buying me a piano! From now on, I’ll play for Mom and Dad every day.”
His younger brother, who had only been learning piano for three days and couldn’t even play a passable “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” was showered with such indulgence and favoritism.
From then on, the house was filled with discordant piano music day and night. From that moment, he understood—it wasn’t his violin this family couldn’t accommodate.
So the stubborn rabbit found an axe and smashed the piano to pieces.
When He Yusheng came home, He Junhua immediately burst into tears, clinging to his father’s leg, wailing that Zhen Ye-gege had gone crazy again.
He Yusheng was a burly alpha. He believed that if Zhen Ye bullied He Junhua, that was Zhen Ye defying him. So he kicked at Zhen Ye’s door with vicious force—one kick! Two kicks! Finally leaving a terrifying hole, kicking the lock until it broke, dragged Zhen Ye out of the room, and shoved him straight down the second-floor stairs.
The boy’s forehead struck the marble floor, vivid blood streaking down his face. He didn’t cry—instead, he shot them an utterly contemptuous, mocking smile.
“This lunatic—” they’d spat at him.
To this day, Zhen Ye still has a faint scar on his forehead.
Now, Zhen Ye instinctively touched his forehead, covering it with a smile. “No time to practice now anyway. It’s too noisy.”
“Practice at my place.” Rong Yu’s eyes churned with suppressed emotion.
Zhen Ye curved his lips, taking it as mere courtesy, and steered the topic back. Gesturing at the chaos around him, he asked, “Looks like something out of one of those hoarder horror stories on the news, doesn’t it?”
“It’s not that you have too much stuff. It’s that your room is too small,” Rong Yu remarked.
Zhen Ye was stunned for a moment, then laughed. “First time I’ve heard that angle. Don’t make excuses for me—I really am bad at cutting things loose.”
“Why cut anything loose?” This wealthy, idle alpha tilted his head with absolute confidence. “Our house is plenty big. It can hold everything you have.”
If he was going to accept you, he’d accept all of you. The good, the bad, the new, the broken—all packed up and taken away.
Zhen Ye lowered his gaze, the knuckles hidden in his pocket itching. He unconsciously rubbed the cigarette pack, but a smile tugged at his lips as he said, half-jokingly:
“Aiya… so Mr. Rong’s ‘Rong’ is the ‘room for everything’ kind of Rong?”
·
The bulk of the moving work certainly didn’t require Zhen Ye’s efforts. Du Rui had called a moving company, and their professionalism was top-notch—they categorized and labeled everything according to where it had been placed, then carefully boxed it all up.
Zhen Ye only needed to grab a few essentials; everything else was handled.
Zhen Ye glanced at the half-open bedroom door, pulled open the bedside drawer, and quickly swept its contents into his bag.
His little stick boyfriend had to come with him.
Aside from that, he also dug out three boxes of condoms, all bought on sale. There had always been reviews saying this brand tore easily, but Zhen Ye wasn’t using them with an alpha anyway—he used them to cover his stick. Tear or no tear, it wasn’t like anything was going to get pregnant.
No wasting. Pack them all up.
Stuffing his backpack to near capacity, Zhen Ye went to the living room and discovered Mr. Rong had already gone downstairs.
What a shame.
He’d wanted to see with his own eyes how the high-tech wheelchair got down the stairs.
Zhen Ye got back into the car and set his backpack on the floor mat. The loose zipper gaped open just a crack.
Rong Yu, who had been reading financial reports on his tablet, suddenly lifted his gaze, his attention casually landing on the bag.
Zhen Ye noticed his expression. “Hm? Something wrong?”
“Nothing.” Rong Yu withdrew his gaze, only glancing at the backpack once more before turning back to his reports as if nothing had happened.
After all the fuss, it was already nearing dusk.
The car drove out of the noisy neighborhood, wove through the lattice of roads, and entered the tranquil Nanshan District. Turning onto a road, the setting sun gilded the vast stretches of greenery on both sides in a brilliant wash of molten gold.
Rong Yu glanced sideways. The omega had already fallen into a deep sleep, head resting on his shoulder.
He studied Zhen Ye slowly—a straight nose, features clear and striking, brows slightly prominent. Less of the softness of other omegas, and more of a stubborn intensity.
An old man had once said that people like this were fated for hardship—they carried one extra bone that could never be worn smooth, and would keep crashing until their heads split open.
But Rong Yu didn’t see it that way.
He thought instead that the world was full of scheming, scrambling little people, and a rabbit this untamable was a rare find.
He would keep the untamable rabbit by his side.
If the rabbit was forced to run into a wall again.
He would tear the “wall” down.
And build the rabbit a new cage of cotton.
……
Zhen Ye hadn’t expected to sleep all the way until the middle of the night. When he woke and checked his phone, it was already past eleven at night.
Good thing he’d taken the day off for his heat period today—otherwise, opening his phone would have meant a barrage of frantic missed calls.
He sat up in bed, blanked out for a moment, then looked down at himself. The pajamas he was wearing were unfamiliar in style—probably an auntie had helped him change again, like last time.
So… he was already at Mr. Rong’s house now?
It felt like he’d been teleported here in his sleep.
Zhen Ye’s consciousness was a little hazy.
When he was in an unfamiliar new environment, his senses would go numb—a mechanism his rabbit genes had developed to prevent him from going into stress-induced shock from the change of scenery.
Right now, his perception of everything around him was somewhat dulled.
But he still remembered he was in his heat period and needed to change his suppressants.
Zhen Ye pushed his body into motion, found the backpack on the chair by the bed, hopped off the mattress, and pulled open the bag to find the pouch of medication.
His fingers trembled slightly as he unscrewed the bottle, murmuring to himself: triple dose, triple dose… three pills for oral, and the insertable one needs changing every six hours.
First, he swallowed three pills.
Then, the insertable suppressant rod.
“…”
Forgot.
He’d used up the last one in the company bathroom.
Zhen Ye’s first instinct was to pull out his phone and order a delivery.
He pulled down to refresh the app with his new address—
[Hello, your area is outside our delivery range.]
Zhen Ye: “…?”
Seriously, was Mr. Rong’s house this remote?
With delivery off the table, Zhen Ye had no choice but to go out and figure something out. Worst case, he could take a cab to buy some himself. After all, there was an alpha living in this house—Mr. Rong—and he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t be overcome by desire and just climb on top of Rong Yu.
Changing his clothes, Zhen Ye opened the bedroom door. The sight that greeted him was a crystal chandelier gleaming with soft brilliance, its light cast across the dark wooden floor, exuding a solemn, refined luxury.
Zhen Ye made his way down the spiral wooden staircase, noticing that many of the furniture pieces in sight were solid wood. But because the space was so vast, they complemented the tastefully placed stone accents—a natural, rustic elegance.
Just from the style alone, it was clear the owner of the house valued nature and comfort over extravagance.
Zhen Ye was about to head out when something flickered in front of him, and Du Rui, the steward, appeared seemingly out of nowhere to block his way.
Du Rui offered a subtle smile. “It’s so late—where are you off to, Young Master Zhen?”
Zhen Ye didn’t want to say outright that he needed to buy a private, sensitive item like a suppressant, so he said casually, “Just going out to buy something.”
“Young Master Zhen, just tell me what you need, and I’ll have the driver fetch it. It’s not safe outside this late.”
“Not safe?” Zhen Ye seized on the key word.
Where exactly had he been brought—a remote mountain forest?
“Yes.”
Du Rui gave a slight nod, explaining, “This is Mr. Rong’s private estate. There are no neighbors. Walking around alone at night is very dangerous, especially—”
Du Rui glanced at the clock on the wall.
“—after 11 PM.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bolt of lightning split the dark sky outside the tall, high-hung window, casting the lattice of the window frame in slanting shadows across Du Rui’s odd smile.
“It’s about to rain, Young Master Zhen. Best to head back inside.”
In an instant, rain was hammering against the ground outside, a damp mist curling up and seeping through the cracks in the windows.
Odd. The weather forecast hadn’t called for rain today. But with the heavens so uncooperative, Zhen Ye had no choice but to give up.
Du Rui continued, “You must be hungry. Mr. Rong left instructions to keep a meal for you. Shall I bring it up?”
Zhen Ye gave a slight shake of his head. “No need. I don’t have much of an appetite right now. I’ll get something myself when I’m hungry.”
“Very well.”
Zhen Ye headed back up the stairs. Suddenly, Du Rui called out to him.
“Young Master Zhen.”
Zhen Ye turned around, looking at him with some puzzlement.
Du Rui’s tone gradually turned serious: “If you open the window at night and see something abnormal, please—do not make a sound. Close the window, lock the door, and nothing more.”
Zhen Ye had only just woken up not long ago, his thoughts still sluggish. He didn’t register the warning in the man’s words, only asking vaguely:
“And if I go outside? What happens—I get fucked and killed?”
For some reason, Zhen Ye instinctively felt the most fitting punishment for him was exactly that. If he was damned to hell, he’d surely be sorted into the depraved, lustful circle of hell.
When he was in heat, his hormones fluctuated wildly, and all sorts of strange, self-destructive thoughts would pop into his head. Even he thought he wasn’t normal.
Du Rui’s answer was fraught with meaning: “Far more terrifying than that.”
But Zhen Ye completely brushed it off. His mind was still drifting, thinking—without the insertable suppressant, the night was going to be torture… Can I really just ride Rong Yu?
Zhen Ye: “Where’s Mr. Rong’s bedroom?”
Du Rui was briefly taken aback, not expecting such a leap in topic, and answered, “First floor, last room on the left.”
Zhen Ye flashed an OK sign. “Thanks.”
Du Rui: “?”
Wait—did you really understand my hint?
But it seemed Young Master Zhen was only asking, with no intention of seeking out his master in the middle of the night.
Watching Zhen Ye head upstairs, Du Rui breathed a sigh of relief, tidied up a bit, and prepared to turn in.
Zhen Ye returned to the bedroom, and the urge in his chest grew stronger and stronger, amplified by his heat period until it was impossible to suppress. But he still had some moral bottom line—a voice in his ear kept stopping him, saying things like, this isn’t right, aren’t you just taking advantage of the fact that the disabled Alpha can’t run away?
So Zhen Ye covered his ears.
But the hallucinated voice didn’t disappear—instead, it morphed into another, gradually enlightened voice:
Mr. Rong is now a slave to pheromones—to mine, Zhen Ye’s Omega pheromones.
What’s a pheromone slave called?
In short, a sex slave.
?!
Zhen Ye was suddenly enlightened.