Even when translated word for word between languages, the emotional nuance can shift dramatically.
Lan Bo finished, brushing his nose affectionately against the alpha’s, but Bai Chunian’s gaze darkened. He pushed Lan Bo away, burying his head in his arm, chest aching.
Lan Bo paused, stunned, stopping the release of pheromones.
The faint scent in the damp, dark factory faded. The alpha’s suppressed arousal surged again, heat coursing painfully through every vein.
Fingertips trembling, Bai Chunian fished his car keys from his pocket, the lights flickered on, the locks clicked open. He tossed the keys to Lan Bo. “Drive. Now.”
Frowning, Lan Bo snatched the keys, gripping Bai Chunian’s collar to pull him close. “Are you… insane?”
“I am!” Bai Chunian grabbed Lan Bo’s slender, bandaged wrist from his collar. “I’m in heat. Can’t you tell? Stay away a little and it might feel better.”
Lan Bo stared, startled.
“What’s with that face? Like I owe you? I always do what you ask. How do you treat me?”
“That time, you said you acted to get me out, that’s why you nearly killed me,” Bai Chunian said, tracing his finger along his scars from severe infection, exposing the marks. “You lied. If that were true, why would you avoid seeing this? You never told the truth. Why?”
An alpha in heat struggles to control sensitive emotions. He pinned Lan Bo down, twisting his hands behind him. His grip on Lan Bo’s joints made them crack audibly; his tail writhed against the floor, electrified tip slashing nearby metal and his broad back, leaving crimson whip marks across Bai Chunian’s pale shoulders.
A sharp crack rang out—Lan Bo’s shoulder briefly dislocated under the alpha’s careless strength.
He shrieked, struggling violently, flipping Bai Chunian over and sending him crashing three meters against a wall. Bai Chunian braced with one hand, touching his face.
His dislocated right arm hung uselessly. Lan Bo, unfamiliar with resetting bones, clumsily lifted his left hand to manipulate the right, only to be met with excruciating pain. He sat dazed, helpless.
Bai Chunian steadied himself against the wall, teeth gritted, watching the dazed omega on the floor.
In the silent factory, every small sound echoed.
A tiny “plop”—a round, blue-lustered black pearl rolled to Bai Chunian’s feet.
Though he didn’t want to move, his hand acted faster than his mind, picking up the pearl and cradling it. More “plops” followed.
Bai Chunian pursed his lips and walked over, crouching beside Lan Bo to wipe his face. “You’re always like this… always like this.”
He pressed Lan Bo’s dislocated shoulder, skillfully twisting it back into place. Lan Bo shivered, pushing Bai Chunian away, his tail shifting from blue to red as he fought to suppress his anger.
Bai Chunian lowered his head, crouching to pick up the scattered pearls one by one, placing them into his pocket.
Suddenly, he sensed something—he turned his head, listening.
Faint, fragmented sounds reached his sharp ears. Clearly, they weren’t alone in this abandoned factory.
The factory’s structure mirrored the seafood plant they had just left: three stories high, the first and second floors open in the middle, surrounded by metal racks for storage and walking.
Bai Chunian moved lightly across the dark floor, climbing the racks, silently searching in the shadows.
Among a jumble of empty crates, he found three bodies. They were relatively fresh but charred, giving off a burnt smell—likely killed by electric shock.
He rifled through their belongings, finding a temperature-controlled cooler, some ice packs, a portable light, anesthetics, bandages, and surgical knives.
Then he heard the faint breathing again.
Following the sound, he cautiously approached, discovering a figure lying on the ground, tightly bound and gagged. Anesthetized, but the eyes could still move—indicating the drug’s effect was nearly gone.
Bai Chunian crouched, ripping off the gag to reveal a familiar, stern face—the Lingtai omega Xiao Xun, who had struck them one last time during the ATWL exam before nearly dying.
Xiao Xun was limp, fingers barely moving. Bai Chunian examined him, noticing a cut on the back of his neck, right over the gland.
Years with the special ops team had made him familiar with criminal methods; from the setup, it was clear: gland hunters had kidnapped him to harvest his glands for the black market.
Though Xiao Xun had only demonstrated a J1 differentiation ability during the exam, his performance and final ranking suggested his gland could exceed J1.
The surgical tools and preparations confirmed Bai Chunian’s suspicion—only M2-level or higher glands were worth the risk for trade.
After about two minutes, the anesthetic began wearing off.
Bai Chunian patted his face, trying to rouse him. “Can you speak?”
Xiao Xun’s tongue was numb, but he mumbled, “Thanks.”
Bai Chunian stood, glanced at Lan Bo, and carefully hoisted Xiao Xun horizontally, descending the rack ladder.
Lan Bo had regained his composure, tail back to blue—until he saw Bai Chunian returning with an omega cradled in his arms. Tail flaring redder than before, cheeks flushed, the hidden gill slits glowing—his entire form now a red fish.
“Kivi noliya bigi ofhacadpqfjdasndhiqoenfcds!”
“What did you just say?” Bai Chunian teased, lightly shifting Xiao Xun in his arms and wrapping him in the jacket from his waist.
Cold sweat streamed down Xiao Xun’s face. He didn’t want to be part of this smoke-filled conflict, but with the anesthetic fading, he couldn’t move.
Lan Bo snatched Xiao Xun from Bai Chunian, holding him himself, glaring. “Kivi ddhdhdsioajsdpascaociehnfnslkvn!”
He yanked the car door open with his tail, tossing Xiao Xun onto the back seat, then lunged at Bai Chunian, fists flying.
Bai Chunian caught the left fist, but the right slammed into his jaw. Lan Bo’s rage sent him sprawling to the ground. Lan Bo curled over him, biting and clawing, as if trying to tear flesh.
Bai Chunian lay still, offering little resistance, like a cat exposing its belly for pets, occasionally letting his hands intercept stray punches that might hit the cement.
“You’re strong,” Bai Chunian murmured, licking the bruised, bleeding corner of his lips with a faint smile.
Lan Bo, exhausted, rested his head on the alpha’s chest, panting. Bai Chunian’s neck and chest were marked with a tangle of bite bruises, the blue fish-shaped emblem blending into a chaotic mess.
Bai Chunian lifted Lan Bo into his arms, kissed him in the hair, then opened the passenger door and set him inside.
It was oddly satisfying. Despite the injuries, this attention felt far warmer than Lan Bo’s usual indifferent detachment. He could sense a faint thread of care through the bruises.
He realized he was easily content, and didn’t need much.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Bai Chunian backed the car out of the pitch-black factory. Lan Bo remained silent, curled up in the passenger seat.
Xiao Xun, recovering, sat in the back corner, tossing Bai Chunian’s jacket to the other side of the seat, keeping his distance—even though the alpha’s lingering pheromones would soothe his injured body.
Bai Chunian drove, speaking casually. “You’ve heard things you shouldn’t. Do I erase you, or come with me? Either way, you’re not going home.”
Xiao Xun’s weak, cold voice replied, “Doesn’t matter. I have no home.”
“What happened?” Bai Chunian asked.
Xiao Xun wasn’t talkative, but Bai Chunian’s persistent questioning pieced together the story.
After the ATWL exam, Xiao Xun gained some recognition within his family. Elders entrusted him with minor business matters, improving his status slightly—but also drawing jealousy.
The matriarch pressed for a commercial marriage, and as an omega, Xiao Xun was expected to be used as bargaining leverage.
He firmly refused.
Not yet graduated, he wanted to join the forces, not be trapped in a wealthy household as a helpless golden cage, relegated to serving his in-laws.
The Lingtai family’s tradition of valuing alphas and disregarding omegas was well known. His eldest and second brothers had looked down on Xiao Xun since childhood, and after the ATWL exam, they regarded him as their number one rival, secretly colluding with gland hunters to orchestrate this kidnapping.
Once Xiao Xun’s glands were taken, he would be useless even for reproduction within the Lingtai household. No one would defend him, and no one would punish the family’s precious alpha sons for it.
“Those gland hunters just now… did you kill them?” Bai Chunian asked playfully, keeping his eyes on the road.
Xiao Xun shook his head. “They brought me there intending to harvest my glands, but you two came in. They paused, planning to deal with you first.”
“And then?”
“You two fought like gods…” Xiao Xun glanced at Lan Bo, “…he discharged electricity. The guys standing on the racks were instantly electrocuted to death. They had placed me on an insulated board for the procedure, so I was unharmed.”
“Oh, lucky you,” Bai Chunian said, opening his comms to contact Han Xingqian.
Han Xingqian’s voice came through: “I just detected another extreme fluctuation in your emotions. Did you go bungee jumping?”
Bai Chunian smirked. “Just got back. Mom’s nagging as usual—shots, injections, whatever. I’ll handle it when I return.”
“Got it.”
“By the way, Han-ge, I just picked up a stray pup in my car. His glands are injured. Can you check?”
“Injured glands? To what extent? How did it happen?”
“I’m driving; let him tell you.” Bai Chunian handed the comms to Xiao Xun.
Xiao Xun hesitated, unsure what to say.
A calm, gentle voice came through the earpiece: “Hello, can you speak?”
He stammered: “Um… yes, I can.”
From the comms, he heard the faint scratch of a pen on paper. Han Xingqian asked: “How did the injury happen? Any current symptoms?”
Xiao Xun’s voice softened: “Cut… about two centimeters… during the gland extraction… bleeding, hurts… but not too badly.”
“Good. Doesn’t sound too severe,” Han Xingqian said, noting details on paper before giving instructions: “Use any soft, clean cloth to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Relax your body—don’t use your gland’s energy to hold yourself up mentally. Let Xiao Bai bring you here shortly; I’ll take care of it. Keep the wound clean, nothing serious, don’t worry.”
“Okay…” Xiao Xun listened intently. The alpha’s voice was warm and steady, naturally calming—a trait perhaps honed by profession.
After the call, Bai Chunian reached for his comms, but Xiao Xun lingered, lost in thought. Bai Chunian had to remind him to return it.