Chapter 27#
Flooding#
Zhen Ye was completely bewildered by the fact that he was growing rabbit ears.
He’d thought his mother’s rabbit genes had thinned out by the time they reached his generation, and that he wouldn’t grow animal features.
Although—after he’d differentiated at eighteen—he had secretly grown two gestational sacs due to suspected atavism.
But those were in his abdominal cavity. No one could see them, and they didn’t cause any outward changes in his appearance.
This time was different.
He was going to grow ears. Long rabbit ears, just like his grandmother’s. He would very likely have to wear a hat whenever he went out, just like his grandmother did, to keep people from getting handsy and touching them.
After all, a rabbit’s ears are densely packed with nerves and capillaries. He’d once heard his grandmother—who had no filter when it came to dirty talk—say that some people with rabbit blood had ears so sensitive that just standing in the subway, a breeze brushing against their ear curves, would make them climax a little.
That would be flooding any time, any place.
Zhen Ye was at his wit’s end. Life had already dug him a pit, and now it had shoveled two more mounds of dirt on top. What’s next, was it going to plant a tree on his barely-alive corpse?
Zhen Ye demanded answers from the heavens. The heavens read his message and didn’t reply—instead, they opened a door for him—
“Young Master Zhen, the Master requests your presence. He’s taking you to the hospital for an examination,” Du Rui relayed.
Zhen Ye stood up and followed him out. Made sense, he supposed. The rabbit ears were only just sprouting “buds” now. Medical technology was so advanced—maybe there was some medication that could block them, push them back down.
If he had a choice, he’d still rather be as ordinary as possible.
Because, in his experience, aside from the pure-blooded Aberrants at the very top who received respect, in most social situations, people tended to “pay excessive attention” to Aberrants with prominent animal features.
It wasn’t discrimination, exactly. It just drew curiosity. A bit like when people learn you’re from a rare ethnic minority and blurt out stereotypes: “Oh, I heard you rabbits all have two uteruses, so you can store your husband’s sperm—get pregnant with one baby while still carrying another—”
Just annoying little hassles like that.
Zhen Ye took a deep breath. Whatever. No use thinking about it now. He’d stop borrowing anxiety from the future; if he actually ran into that kind of thing, he’d just fire back.
In no time, Zhen Ye was in the car, and the driver pulled away.
When he’d walked out earlier, his view had been facing outward, so Zhen Ye hadn’t noticed just how massive the “villa” he’d stayed in last night really was.
So massive it couldn’t really be called a villa at all. It should be called an estate.
As the car turned out, Zhen Ye looked out the window and couldn’t even see the end of the building’s silhouette. It stood on the land like a castle, oriented with an east wing and a west wing.
The room Zhen Ye had stayed in last night occupied only a corner of the west wing.
And that wasn’t the end of it. Zhen Ye noticed the car had been driving through the landscaped gardens for over ten minutes and still hadn’t reached the outer gate.
Zhen Ye silently turned to the man beside him.
“Mr. Rong, are you really just an estate owner?”
Rong Yu’s eyes drooped slightly, a faint smile pressed at the corner of his lips. “I have a few negligible little investments.”
The driver and Du Rui in the front seats nearly lost their composure. “Negligible”—you call your several-hundred-billion-asset empire a little investment.
More like a “roar-ing” investment, if you asked them.
After leaving the estate gates, another two or three minutes of driving brought them to the road downhill. Zhen Ye looked ahead and realized Nanshan Hospital wasn’t far at all—it was just two streets ahead.
Great. That meant after his grandmother’s surgery, he could come stay with her often.
Although Nanshan Hospital was in the suburbs, there was a constant stream of people coming and going, and appointments always required long waits. Zhen Ye had planned to get a regular appointment, but Rong Yu went straight for a 600-yuan special-needs expert consultation, not even touching the medical insurance system. Completely avoiding taking up regular medical resources.
Entering the consultation room, Zhen Ye looked up and saw a sharp, capable female doctor with two furry antlers growing from her head.
As luck would have it, this Dr. Lu was the exact same expert in Aberrant developmental issues that Zhen Ye had seen back in the year he’d differentiated.
And it turned out Dr. Lu remembered Zhen Ye too.
She gestured for him to sit, then opened his file, writing as she asked, “I remember you—late omega differentiation, plus organ atavism. I’ve only seen three such cases over the years, and you’re one of them.”
Her scrutinizing gaze came at him from behind her lenses, and she asked amiably, “So what’s the problem this time?”
Zhen Ye told her about the lumps growing on his head, and even parted his hair himself to show her.
Dr. Lu reached out and felt them.
Suddenly, she glanced toward the door, at the man waiting outside with the calm composure of a parent.
She asked, meaningfully: “Is he your boyfriend outside?”
Zhen Ye: “Not really?”
More like creditor and kept person, villain and sex slave.
Dr. Lu pushed up her glasses. “Then he seems to be secretly in love with you. Just now, when I touched you, he kept radiating pheromones to drive the oxygen away from around me. I was about to suffocate.”
Secretly in love?
Zhen Ye thought about the mark, and felt rather sympathetic: “Sorry. He’s doing it because he has no choice.”
Well, well—“no choice.” Dr. Lu’s mind spun a whole tragic, deeply devoted romance drama on the spot.
Sure enough.
A succubus had arrived.
She’d once seen a rabbit-patient who was pregnant. Apparently, six alphas and three betas had been lined up outside her door that day. That patient—
had definitely been a paragon of rabbit-monogamy.
As they spoke, Dr. Lu had already written up the examination orders, telling Zhen Ye to get a full detailed workup done again. After Zhen Ye came back with the results, her brow furrowed slightly once more:
“They’re definitely rabbit ears. Strange—you shouldn’t be getting these at your age. You’re in your twenties; you should have stopped developing long ago. Why would new organs suddenly grow?”
Zhen Ye shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
She thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Were you under a lot of stress before, and recently suddenly relaxed? Any increased sleepiness?”
Zhen Ye: “Yes.”
“In the last three days, any vigorous sexual activity?”
“…Yes.” In a dream.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Dr. Lu glanced once more at the alpha with the deep, brooding gaze outside, then gave her preliminary assessment:
“This should be a ‘gene re-expression’ caused by a drastic shift in your living environment, which sent your hormones into violent fluctuation.”
Dr. Lu gave Zhen Ye a brief explanation.
Simply put, the program had always been written in his genes. But because he’d been under a lot of stress as a child, and his environment had been poor, his genes had decided maintaining the status quo was better for his “survival,” so they hadn’t “expressed” it.
Then one day, he suddenly found himself in a better environment, and his body experienced unprecedented release from stress. At that moment, his genes received the “signal”—conditions are ripe, awakening permitted.
And so, the dormant genetic code began to do its work.
Actually, this was a very common phenomenon in human developmental history.
For example, some people don’t get sick as children, but as they grow up with bad lifestyle habits, they suddenly develop autoimmune diseases. Or some people in the West are born with brown hair, then gradually turn red-haired as adults—these are all examples of gene expression regulation influenced by age, hormones, and environmental changes.
Like a seed long buried, it only sprouts when it encounters the right sunlight and rain.
Zhen Ye: “…So, I’m sprouting again?”
“Secondary development—that’s a good thing.” Dr. Lu patted the omega’s shoulder reassuringly. “But compared to the ears, based on your ultrasound results, your reproductive cavity is the bigger problem.”
She stood up as she spoke and closed the door right in front of Rong Yu. For the patient’s privacy, what she said next needed to be said behind closed doors.
At the words “reproductive cavity,” Zhen Ye’s face paled, his heart tightening. “Is it my… addiction problem?”
“Yes, and no.” Dr. Lu said rigorously. “You should know that taking artificial suppressants in excess comes with side effects. Especially for your rabbit bloodline—long-term suppression of heat cycles with excessive embedded suppressant use is very likely to cause pus to accumulate in the reproductive cavity.”
“If it develops to a certain point, the whole thing has to be removed.”
“So,” six years later, she once again advised him with deep sincerity, “you should find yourself a steady boyfriend as soon as possible.”
“And for the next six months of heat cycles, don’t use suppressants anymore.”
·
For Zhen Ye, suppressants were a door—a defense. The last article of clothing preserving his dignity.
Not being able to use suppressants was no different from walking down the street naked.
Zhen Ye asked Dr. Lu if there was any medication that could replace suppressants and control the intensity of his heats.
But Dr. Lu shook her head, and regretfully told him, “Pharmaceutical companies’ development of omega suppressants has been stalled for thirty years. Rongsen Pharmaceuticals does have a new drug, but it hasn’t officially launched yet.”
In the eyes of the 90% profit-driven pharmaceutical industry, rather than developing cheap, effective omega suppressants, they prefer to invest their funds in treating male impotence.
The impact of lacking medication on Zhen Ye was far greater than one might imagine. And going out right now to find a boyfriend wasn’t very realistic either.
Zhen Ye indeed didn’t have much of a concept of chastity, but he was also quite picky.
However, although he didn’t have a proper boyfriend, wasn’t there a creditor-cum-pheromone-slave waiting outside?
Meanwhile, Rong Yu was waiting outside.
The consultation room door opened, and Zhen Ye walked out clutching a thick stack of reports. His brows were furrowed, as if deep in thought, yet also carrying a hint of interest. These emotions melded into a contradictory whole, so much so that when his gaze met Rong Yu’s, his expression turned somewhat strange.
Rong Yu’s tone was as calm as ever: “How is it?”
Zhen Ye’s amber, stone-like eyes rolled, landing on his face. He said nothing.
Rong Yu had assumed he didn’t want to speak. After all, judging by the doctor’s door-closing gesture, it must involve private matters.
But Zhen Ye stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly spoke, blunt and direct: “The doctor said my using suppressants during heats all the time isn’t good. She told me to find a boyfriend.”
Rong Yu’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what did you say?”
“I said, I don’t have one.”
Rong Yu’s expression eased somewhat, and he was about to maneuver his wheelchair to leave with the rabbit.
But the very next second, the wild rabbit had pressed forward, deliberately cornering him against the wall. Zhen Ye waved the papers in his hand, his tone both shameless and matter-of-fact:
“But we have a contract, don’t we? Mr. Rong, are you free tonight? Let’s fulfill item fourteen of the kept-man contract.”
Fuck.
Rong Yu looked at him, pupils fathomless. “Item fourteen?”
Zhen Ye’s expression shifted slightly, an unbelievable suspicion rising: “You didn’t sign it without reading the contract, did you?”
“I read it.”
From beginning to end. Every word.
Rong Yu’s tone was calm, yet carried the unyielding authority of someone accustomed to arranging everything, as he said slowly: “I can give you funding. I can give you connections. But item fourteen—I’m going to set that aside for now.”
Zhen Ye was stunned for a moment, then laughed out loud, the laughter tinged with a hint of absurdity: “Mr. Rong isn’t going to play Platonic with me, is he?”
What a joke. Giving money without wanting the service—who was he trying to play bodhisattva for?
Rong Yu remained composed and dignified, his expression grave as he looked straight at him. “Zhen Ye, I will resolve your needs in an appropriate manner.”
“An appropriate manner?”
Zhen Ye abruptly bent down, bracing both hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, pressing his whole body in until the distance between them was close enough to feel each other’s breath. Hot air brushed across Rong Yu’s ear, his voice low, raspy, and wanton:
“When you had your fingers curled inside me last night, you weren’t being quite so proper.”