The training ground was thick with the stench of blood, scattered with broken limbs and debris.
The cannibal carp alpha lay at his feet. Yan Yi slashed its gland, completely destroying it, then flicked the viscous blood off the blade.
Lowering his eyelids, he used the tip of his knife to lift the alpha’s chin, exposing its neck, and glanced at the brand burned there.
“PBB000036,” he murmured. Then, he cast a cool look at the seven or eight J1 alphas surrounding him, all frozen with fear. Their threat to him was nonexistent, so he sheathed his knife as if they weren’t there.
Several J1 alphas turned and fled, but the entrance they had come through was sealed with a thick layer of sticky web, every gap firmly blocked.
Armed bodyguards surged forward, pressing the fleeing rodents to the ground, one by one capturing them.
Shao Wenjing slid down a sturdy thread of web from the high platform, landing in front of Yan Yi.
The turbulent currents in his chest had yet to settle. He reached out, intending to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Yan Yi’s ear.
But the glinting blade of the katana suddenly rose, pointing at Shao Wenjing’s throat. Expressionless, Yan Yi held the knife, stopping him from approaching any closer.
The air was laced with the scent of poppy flowers, carrying a strong mating pheromone.
Shao Wenjing’s hand froze mid-air. He had just regained composure, but as an alpha, the overflow of mating pheromones from his glands had already spread into the air. He struggled to control it, but Yan Yi must have sensed it.
The alpha’s innate drive for dominance surged from his heart. Inevitably, Shao Wenjing found himself captivated by a high-ranking omega.
Yan Yi asked softly, “When can I leave?”
Shao Wenjing resumed his usual refined, elegant demeanor. Tapping the back of the blade with his fingertips, he smiled faintly: “Leave… for what?”
Yan Yi was momentarily stunned.
He tried to recall, but his memories were hazy. Last night’s dinner was clear, but other things were fuzzy.
“Let’s go. The blood smell here is too pungent. Staying too long will give you a headache.” Shao Wenjing stepped aside from the blade and approached the dazed little white rabbit. His fingers lightly traced Yan Yi’s gland, a barely perceptible toxin traveling through the nerve endings into his brain.
Yan Yi sheathed the blade and tossed the snake-skin katana to Shao Wenjing. “Nice blade.”
“Do you like it?” Shao Wenjing carried him out of the training ground. “I also have a few famous swords in my collection. Tomorrow during the day, I’ll take you to the armory to see them.”
Yan Yi’s eyes were confused, unable to voice anything unusual.
“Who are you…” he murmured.
“My surname is Shao. You’ve always called me Wenjing.”
Shao Wenjing supported Yan Yi’s waist, holding him to the iron railing as if they were the most natural couple. He lifted his head, warm and sparkling in his peach blossom eyes:
“I am your devoted servant beneath your skirt.”
Yan Yi’s hollow eyes could not focus on the face before him. The unfamiliar cold face overlapped with Shao Wenjing’s, the sharp, noble features gradually blurring into the soft alpha visage before him, deep and striking.
He cupped Shao Wenjing’s cheek, feeling a sense of familiarity. Yet the cold face imprinted in his mind for years seemed erased, shadows lifted, lines erased—the more he tried to recall, the faster it vanished.
Yan Yi curled up, clutching his head, letting out a scream. In the endless darkness, he grasped the last withering petal, turning it into ash that slipped through his fingers.
“It’s alright, I’m here.” Shao Wenjing lifted the little rabbit from the railing.
Yan Yi suddenly hugged him tightly, trembling, burying his face in the crook of Shao Wenjing’s neck, his rapid breaths brushing against Shao Wenjing’s skin.
Shao Wenjing caressed his arm, now covered in goosebumps, feeling his heart stirred by a delicate feather.
The charm of an A3 omega was irresistible.
In the midst of bloody clashes and flashing blades, the slender waist, the ruthless gaze—it dazzled like starlight dancing across the retina.
And yet, when he fell into Shao Wenjing’s arms, weakly clutching the alpha’s neck, his frantic heartbeat conveyed fear and grievance, softening a heart once hard and ruthless.
Having such an omega was, in fact, quite pleasant.
Shao Wenjing carried the weary little rabbit back to his quarters. Circling the bedroom, he noticed the previously placed cage seemed too cold and narrow.
Yan Yi glanced at the cold iron cage he had lain in before, clutching Shao Wenjing’s arm tighter. “I won’t sleep here.”
A faint burn mark still lingered on his fingertips, a lingering fear from the electrified prison.
“Alright, not here.” Shao Wenjing agreed gently.
He had the servants clean Yan Yi, changing him into fresh sleepwear before bringing him into his bedroom.
Barefoot, Yan Yi stepped onto the soft long-pile carpet, water dripping from his hair along his neck and glands, leaving a hint of sweet milky scent.
Shao Wenjing, leaning against the headboard reading, looked up to see Yan Yi drying his hair, sitting at the edge of the bed. His wet tail poked out over his sleep shorts, dampening a small patch of the sheets.
“Should I sleep here?” Yan Yi asked, staring at his toes, uncertain.
His fair feet were red from the hot water, leaving two tiny paw prints on the carpet.
Shao Wenjing’s arms encircled his waist, pressing close and kissing his ear. “Why don’t you come up?”
Yan Yi asked in confusion, “Have I always slept here?”
“Of course.” Shao Wenjing placed him in his lap, gently holding his hands in his palm.
Yan Yi noticed a platinum ring on Shao Wenjing’s left ring finger. Surprised, he looked at his own right hand—he wore a matching ring.
“We’ve been married a long time.” Shao Wenjing sighed near his ear. “You’ve never liked me.”
The little rabbit ears perked up in surprise. Shao Wenjing rested his chin on Yan Yi’s head. The ears brushed his cheeks and fell again, soft and warm.
Yan Yi recalled slowly—it seemed true. He had indeed been married, but had been a flirtatious rabbit.
He often had one-night affairs with other alphas outside, sometimes bringing a kept alpha home.
Shao Wenjing buried his face in Yan Yi’s shoulder, speaking softly, hurt: “What did I do wrong? Why don’t you like me?”
Yan Yi turned his head, seeing the alpha’s peach blossom eyes misted with tears, swirling in his gaze. The charming eyes blinked, tears dripping onto his shoulder, making him shiver.
“…You haven’t done anything wrong…” Yan Yi, a little slow, turned and wiped Shao Wenjing’s eyes. “I’m sorry…”
He had truly behaved terribly.
Shao Wenjing held him close, letting him feel his heartbeat.
Where Yan Yi couldn’t see, a smug curve appeared on Shao Wenjing’s lips. The little rabbit’s expression was priceless—the apologetic gaze looked like a repentant youth atoning for past sins.
The accumulated numbing toxin in Yan Yi’s brain reached its threshold, under Shao Wenjing’s guidance creating delightfully confusing memories.
He leaned over, pinning Yan Yi down, kissing his glands from behind.
Yan Yi did not resist, allowing Shao Wenjing’s mating pheromones to mingle with his own. The high compatibility made him feel comforted and relaxed.
“I like you.” Shao Wenjing whispered into his ear from behind. “Let’s live well together, alright?”
Yan Yi turned, a harmless smile crossing his face. “Okay…”
Shao Wenjing paused.
In that moment, a possessive thought surged—he wanted to claim the bright being before him entirely.
He lowered his head, his sharp canines briefly biting into the gland on the back of Yan Yi’s neck.
Yan Yi stifled a moan.
The alpha’s potent pheromones surged through his body, racing in his veins.
Shao Wenjing released an even richer stream of mating pheromones. At 87% compatibility, Yan Yi—already on the verge of mental collapse—could not resist.
His fingers clutched the sheets, his body trembling wildly. A hint of poppy fragrance entered his glands while a strong sweet milky scent filled every corner of the room.
Like addictive opium, it was terrifying yet irresistible.
Shao Wenjing bit the back of his neck, eyes soft but glowing red, holding Yan Yi’s legs apart.
He felt pain, but it was immediately drowned out by high-compatibility comfort, replaced by extreme pleasure. Heartbreak, the despair of losing a child, all trapped in his chest, nearly driving him mad.
He cried silently, eyes vacant.
Forget everything.
All those chaotic, unthinkable memories should be erased.
“Does it hurt?” Shao Wenjing gently undid his belt, trying to be tender, not to cause extra pain.
But seeing Yan Yi’s vacant eyes, he momentarily feared he might break the little rabbit beneath him.
Before he could penetrate, a child’s hysterical scream erupted outside the half-closed bedroom door.
Shao Wenjing startled, patting Yan Yi’s back gently. “Wait for me.”
He rushed out to see Shao Wenchi sitting outside the door, sobbing uncontrollably.
Shao Wenjing bent down, picking up his younger brother. “Why are you here? Don’t cry. What’s wrong?”
Shao Wenchi hiccupped through his sobs, tears covering his soft little face. “Don’t bully the rabbit who saved Wenchi…”
Shao Wenjing froze, a faint smile on his composed face.
—
That weekend, traffic was gridlocked for hundreds of meters, crawling slowly.
The pungent smell of gasoline and exhaust made people anxious, tempers flaring like a spreading virus. Occasional blaring horns were met with a string of curses from drivers ahead.
A Bentley Continental drove in reverse along the emergency lane, several police cars in hot pursuit.
Lu Shangjin wearily tore off the medical tape from his hand, revealing a small cut from removing the IV.
He glanced in the rearview mirror at the pursuing police cars, then quickly took the ramp.
Suddenly, memories surfaced, ill-timed.
In his youth, he often raced with Yan Yi in Las Vegas.
By a sheer cliff, leaning against the car doors, they smoked.
Yan Yi sat on the hood, helmet in his lap, little rabbit ears bouncing. He looked back, smiling: “Jin-ge, why can’t I ever catch up to you? Any tricks? Teach me.”
Lu Shangjin exhaled smoke, eyebrows raised in triumph. “Catch me, then I’ll teach you.”
No.
Lu Shangjin slammed the steering wheel hard.
No more chasing the little rabbit.
He only wanted him back. Now, nothing else mattered. Lu Shangjin just wanted Yan Yi to come back quickly.