Chapter 31

Duan Baisui refused decisively. “No need.”
He unlocked the door with the spare key. The scent of green‑grape gummy candy surged toward him. As an Alpha, his emotions were instantly stirred; he could tell their compatibility had risen.
There was no one on the big bed in the bedroom. Soft, broken sobs came from the bathroom.
Duan Baisui padded over, light on his feet. The bathroom door hadn’t been shut properly; a narrow gap remained.
Through that slit, he could see Zuo Nian lying in the tub, flushed pink all over, crying hard as heat‑driven restlessness tormented him. He clutched the little thing he’d bought ahead of time, not knowing what to do with it, and wailed helplessly, “How do I use it…? How am I supposed to do it…? Wuwuwu…”
He’d known his heat was coming, and yet he hadn’t told Duan Baisui a single word. He’d rather struggle alone than call him.
Duan Baisui’s grip tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles went white. In the end, he was so angry he almost laughed.
He released a thread of pheromones, and Zuo Nian was drawn out immediately.
The Omega’s legs trembled as he pulled the door open, then toppled straight into Duan Baisui’s arms, shivering all over—pitiful beyond words.
The physical torment had stripped him of reason. He rose onto his toes and tried to nuzzle desperately at Duan Baisui’s neck, only for Duan Baisui to catch his jaw and hold him still.
Zuo Nian’s tears fell faster. He murmured, “Give me…”
“Give you what?” Duan Baisui’s voice carried a faint, dangerous smile. “Now you remember you have an Alpha?”
Now you remember you have an Alpha?
In his muddled mind, Zuo Nian heard those words.
No… it was useless. His Alpha didn’t like him. His Alpha rejected him, avoided him—he’d even gone abroad just to get rid of him. How could Zuo Nian dare to trouble him again?
His glands had recovered; heat was only a matter of time. Even before leaving for America, he’d already shown signs. The doctor had said it was a good thing, and he’d believed it. He’d become a “normal” Omega—he could bear children for the person he loved, he could be close to him in the way lovers were.
But he’d been wrong—wrong to an absurd degree.
His lover had never wanted that.
It wasn’t because he was sick that Duan Baisui wouldn’t touch him. It wasn’t because his glands were damaged, or because their compatibility wasn’t high enough to attract Duan Baisui.
It was because of him. Because he, as a person, didn’t please Duan Baisui.
No wonder all this time Duan Baisui had never thought of marking him; even during an Alpha’s susceptible period he’d said he didn’t need him. It wasn’t that Zuo Nian couldn’t soothe him—Duan Baisui simply didn’t want to accept him.
Didn’t want to accept him, and didn’t want to accept his pheromones.
If Zuo Nian hadn’t shown up with that ring and practically forced a marriage, if Duan Baisui hadn’t been facing mandatory matching… this marriage would never have happened.
Even now, Zuo Nian still remembered the look in Duan Baisui’s eyes when he’d suggested getting married—confused and complicated. Like the helplessness of still being trapped by fate. Like regret over the promise he’d once made. Like blame: why did you still remember?
Zuo Nian couldn’t stop crying. It hurt—his heart hurt, and his body hurt. When Duan Baisui asked whether he’d overheard anything, he didn’t dare admit it. He was afraid—afraid Duan Baisui would take the chance to tell him the cruellest truth, and even more afraid that once the paper window was torn open, Duan Baisui would simply leave him.
So he hid everything like a frightened quail and prayed it wouldn’t be discovered.
After learning the truth, Zuo Nian found Duan Baisui even harder to understand. He would hold him, kiss him—yet in his heart, he loathed him.
Before this, Zuo Nian had no experience at all. He didn’t even know what he’d done wrong to make Duan Baisui grow tired of him.
He’d looked it up online. On Alpha forums, there were many cases like this. They said that for family and for appearances, people would put on an act; in truth, the scent of the other’s pheromones made them sick to their stomach, and having to deal with an Omega’s heat was unbearably annoying.
Zuo Nian thought he and Duan Baisui were probably like that.
His godfathers were dignified people, and Duan Baisui was well‑mannered. Their closeness was nothing more than Duan Baisui “handling” things. If Zuo Nian used his heat to bother him—forcing him, through instinct, to accept him—then he really would be shameless.
Zuo Nian forced his eyes wide as he stared at the man before him. Those sharp brows and handsome eyes were close enough to touch; the slight furrow between them meant he was unhappy.
Of course. He hated him.
Panting hard, Zuo Nian fought to stay lucid. Then he shoved him away and said, “Don’t…”
“Don’t what?” The man’s voice sank low.
Zuo Nian braced himself on the doorframe, bent at the waist. “Don’t… Gege…”
He heard the man laugh—low, cold, pressing down on anger. “Then who do you want? That Dr. Jin? Hm?”
The Alpha’s pheromones grew thicker and thicker around them. Zuo Nian felt his body becoming strange—his legs went weak, his skin aching for contact, his mind pleading to be saved. A broken whine slipped from him; he could no longer hold himself up and sank to the floor.
The tiles were cold, and yet it soothed him a little. A pair of large hands lifted him. This was where that pheromone came from; he chased it recklessly, forgetting everything else.
“What? You like my pheromones that much?” The man’s tone was sharp with sarcasm. “Do they smell better than Dr. Jin’s?”
Zuo Nian didn’t even understand how Dr. Jin had entered the conversation. Duan Baisui looked impatient, yet he used high‑compatibility pheromones to lure him; he watched him struggle from above, like punishment—like bullying.
Hearing those biting words, Zuo Nian was angry and wronged at once. Choking back sobs, he muttered, “Bad… Gege. I hate you.”
“You hate me?” The man set him on the bed and leaned over him. “What did I do that made you hate me?”
Zuo Nian felt miserable enough to claw at the sheets. Sweat and tears soaked his hair. After the cold bath, his body was damp and chilled, like a drenched little kitten.
He couldn’t answer. He only sobbed, so miserable he looked about to pass out.
Duan Baisui’s heart ached. He no longer let that ridiculous possessiveness control him, and he no longer wanted to obsess over why Zuo Nian hadn’t called him during heat.
He gathered him up carefully and released soothing pheromones. Kissing his hair, he murmured, “All right. Stop crying. Say whatever you want—it’s my fault.”
Zuo Nian’s temperature was too high. Driven by instinct, he kept rubbing against him for comfort. Duan Baisui held his face, kissed his eyes with aching tenderness, and licked away the tears that slid to the corner of his lips. “If you hate me right now,” he said softly, “how could I take you?”
Two streams of pheromones collided in the room, tangling, slowly blending.
Duan Baisui kissed the back of his neck and saw two faint scars near the gland. He knew they were from the corrective surgery. Zuo Nian was afraid of pain—had he cried back then?
His kisses lingered over the scars. Zuo Nian let out a soft, satisfied hum, eyes half‑closed, helplessly enjoying it.
Duan Baisui judged the timing, then whispered, “The first time might hurt a little, but it’ll be over soon.”
Not knowing whether Zuo Nian even heard him, Duan Baisui pressed to that small spot and bit down—gently at first, then deeper.
A faint metallic taste filled his mouth. Zuo Nian screamed sharply in his arms, toes curling tight.
Duan Baisui held him fast, not letting him flee. He poured in his pheromones without end, making the mark bitingly deep.
Zuo Nian’s reaction went from fierce to gradually quiet. Like a fish hauled from water, he lost all strength and went limp in Duan Baisui’s arms, breathing shallowly.
“Gege…” he murmured.
“Mm?”
“Stinky Gege.”
Duan Baisui laughed. “Mm.”
Zuo Nian was exhausted. He fell asleep with his eyes closed.
Duan Baisui tucked him under the blanket.
He cleaned up, showered, then returned to take care of Zuo Nian, wiping him down patiently and changing him into something clean and comfortable.
Leaning close, Duan Baisui kissed his face and complained in a low, aggrieved voice, “You dare say you hate me? Didn’t you say you liked Gege the most?”
Even in sleep, Zuo Nian’s brows were still knitted, as if some dream was making him unhappy.
Duan Baisui climbed into bed and pulled him into his arms. “This time, I won’t hold it against you.”
Zuo Nian had a long, long dream.
In it, he was still in high school. He still hadn’t made any friends. People still stole his things—sometimes money, sometimes stationery. He’d gone to the teacher twice, only for it to get worse.
They would grin and brush it off in front of the teacher, calling it a joke. Then they would turn around and toss his books into the Alpha bathroom. He couldn’t go in; he could only wait until no one was there to retrieve them. The teacher had grown used to him being late.
He was tongue‑tied and couldn’t explain himself. His grades weren’t outstanding, and he didn’t talk much. Over time, even the teachers stopped paying attention.
High school life wasn’t beautiful, and his deskmate was a bully. Because Zuo Nian hadn’t accepted his love letter, he spread rumors everywhere that Zuo Nian was a fool, led others to isolate him, and humiliated him.
Zuo Nian didn’t want to bother with him at all. He thought he looked like a clown at an amusement park—jumping around so hard it was ridiculous.
School life was always gray. He didn’t want to tell his dads—he was afraid they would worry, afraid Grandpa Zuo would say he was making trouble. When it got hard to bear, he learned to keep a diary. He kept the person far away in his heart and missed him over and over. He wrote all his warm words of love into a notebook, confessing quietly. He knew that one day they would meet again and, like they’d promised as children, stay together forever.
Before that, he couldn’t complain about life. He couldn’t be affected by anyone else. He had to become better. Before a beautiful future, there were always hardships—this was something he’d learned from textbooks.
He wrote that person’s name, stroke by stroke. It was his hope.
He’d thought he was already used to swallowing everything, enduring everything. But one day, that deskmate snatched away his ring—his most precious ring.
He’d worn it on a chain around his neck. After PE class, he didn’t know how the ring had slipped out from under his shirt. His deskmate saw it, yanked the chain until it snapped, and toyed with the ring in his hand.
Zuo Nian was furious. That ring was from Duan Baisui—it was their token. How could anyone steal it?
For the first time, he fought someone.
Even though the other person was a fairly big Alpha, he charged in without hesitation.
Naturally, he came out worse for it. Someone called a teacher, and classmates finally pulled them apart.
He got his ring back, but because he’d fought, his parents were called in.
He felt guilty, thinking he’d caused trouble for his dads. But Dad praised him, saying he’d done especially well—and that if someone bullied him again, he should hit back hard, without worrying about anything.
That day in the office, the teacher demanded that Zuo Nian—the one who threw the first punch—apologize. But Dad said absolutely not, and demanded the bully apologize first. Later, his godfathers came too—so many people. The deskmate cried as he wrote a guarantee letter, and his seat was moved far away.
After that, even though Zuo Nian still had no friends, and people still gossiped behind his back, no one dared bully him openly anymore. Only then did he truly understand why Director Mama had once said: you need a good family behind you, or life will be very hard.
Zuo Nian felt so lucky. So many people loved him. It made him stronger—gave him backbone.
He carried the ring with him again, longing for Duan Baisui to come back soon.
High school, university, internships… in a blink, eight years were gone.
The person he waited for finally came back.
Hearing that Duan Baisui was reaching the age where he would be scheduled for mandatory matching, Zuo Nian realized: they could get married now.
He took the ring and his medical report and went to find Duan Baisui, overjoyed. He told him he was healthy now—his glands had been treated—and asked if he could marry him.
Duan Baisui’s expression was cold, his gaze strange. He asked, “You kept this?”
You kept this?
What did that mean? Wasn’t it their token? Shouldn’t he have kept it?
Back then, he’d thought Duan Baisui was only marveling that he’d preserved the token for so many years—marveling that he was someone who kept promises.
Now he understood: Duan Baisui’s reaction had been helplessness and incomprehension.
He’d bound Duan Baisui with a sentence from when he was six. He’d forced him.
So wasn’t it normal that Duan Baisui didn’t like him?
Zuo Nian woke from the dream. The haze at the bottom of his eyes dispersed, and he met a pair of deep, pale‑colored eyes that always made their owner look cold and distant.
“Gege…” His head was still muddled. At the height of his heat, he had indeed seen Duan Baisui come—but he’d thought it was a hallucination.
“Awake?” Duan Baisui asked.