The private room was awash in red and gold, dimly lit, the air heavy with the sweet, enticing scent of omega pheromones mingling with several dominant alphas. Lu Shangjin had rarely taken the time to meet friends like this, a brief respite from his busy life.
Across from him, a young alpha, flanked by two delicate and beautiful omegas, sipped champagne fed to him with meticulous attention. He snapped his fingers at Lu Shangjin. “Lu, I have a gift for you. You’d better thank me properly.”
Lu Shangjin, disinterested, rested his cheek in his hand. “What is it?”
The young alpha teased, “That plot of land in Jiu’an City…”
Lu Shangjin pressed his temple, already throbbing. “I’ve already made the arrangements. Just go handle it yourself.”
The alpha blew a smoke ring, satisfied, and clapped his hands. A young, slender omega stepped into the room.
As soon as he entered, a subtle, distinctive scent radiated from him, gently intertwining with Lu Shangjin’s own pheromones. Lu Shangjin stood abruptly; the omega froze, startled, shrinking back, clutching his soft little tail, his wide eyes fixed on Lu Shangjin—wanting to run but unsure if he could, hesitating to stay.
He was a hamster-type omega, whose gland cells had awakened but not yet differentiated, exuding a light creamy aroma.
Lu Shangjin approached slowly, lifting his hand to gently tap the omega’s delicate cheek with his knuckles.
By instinct alone, he could tell this omega’s pheromones were exceptionally compatible with his own. Only a compatibility above 95% could make Lu Shangjin so unable to maintain control.
The kaleidoscopic lights shimmered like midnight stars, falling upon the fresh-faced little hamster. Outside, clouds parted to reveal a bright crescent moon hiding behind the gray haze, its pale light illuminating this rare beauty.
If his crisp white shirt were replaced with tight tactical armor, the champagne in his hands a tactical knife, and two snow-camouflaged Uzi’s hanging at his waist, it would be perfection.
Lu Shangjin felt a genuine emotion well up—a feeling called “liking.” He smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly whispering, “Yan Yan.”
The little hamster omega blinked, surprised and confused. “Sir, my name is—I’m called…”
An alpha nearby cleared his throat, interrupting the self-introduction. “Lu calls you what he wants. That’s your name now.”
He needed Lu Shangjin’s favor and naturally wanted everything to go his way.
The little hamster timidly agreed, accepting his new name.
Then Lu Shangjin’s next words sent a chill through everyone in the room.
The little hamster’s wide black eyes went wide in terror, retreating to a corner, shrieking in desperation, “No! No! Sir!”
He said, flatly: “Remove his glands.”
——
Yan Yi sneezed. His little rabbit ears twitched before settling again as he quietly sat by the hospital bed, peeling an apple.
The intensive care room contained only two omegas. Yuan Mi’s right leg was in a cast. He cautiously opened his mouth, accepting the apple slices Yan Yi handed him, chewing while warily watching him, afraid that Yan Yi might suddenly strike or kick him skyward.
Seeing Yan Yi continue peeling fruit calmly, Yuan Mi, emboldened, complained, “Isn’t Lu Shangjin busy? Why is he sending you to watch over me?”
If Lu Shangjin’s legal wife were a meek, compliant type, Yuan Mi, as an interloper, wouldn’t have much to fear. But this was someone he couldn’t provoke.
Yan Yi looked up, offering a polite smile. “I’m good at taking care of people. I’ll see you through to recovery. I apologize for my previous loss of control.”
Yuan Mi’s words and manners were large and composed, giving him no chance to fuss. Disheartened, he said, “Forget it. Lu doesn’t really care about you… seems like he never did.”
Yan Yi silently gripped the handle of the fruit knife, replying calmly, “Yes. That’s it. We divorced, three years ago.”
Yuan Mi was surprised by his composed demeanor, withdrawing his gaze.
Divorced.
He scratched at his messy, unwashed hair, his small-star arrogance melted away by the unkempt, makeup-free face. Resigned, he rested his hands behind his head, leaning against the upright pillow. “Are you compatible with him?”
Yan Yi found the question ridiculous. It seemed not only were his gland cells undifferentiated, his brain cells were also incompletely developed.
Foolish human.
Bored, Yan Yi carved roses into the orange peel, replying casually, “Very low.”
Yuan Mi was unsurprised. Pondering for a moment, he offered a measured consolation: “Compatibility doesn’t really matter for Lu. Your divorce probably had nothing to do with that. Maybe reflect on yourself a bit more.”
Yan Yi gave him a sympathetic look. The two of them resembled minor characters in a drama, trapped in a cold palace, comforting each other: “Being ugly isn’t a problem—sometimes the emperor likes the ugly ones.”
Or like the second-to-last student in class explaining a problem to the last-place student—one dares to teach, the other dares to listen—absurd.
Yuan Mi frowned. “My compatibility with Lu is 89%. Believe it?”
Yan Yi’s ears twitched, staring at him as if at a parrot singing across the Tibetan Plateau—bizarre and absurd.
Eighty-nine percent compatibility.
A number that should have radiated love even through a movie screen.
Was Lu Shangjin naturally cold, or did the outside world’s many omegas tempt him so much that he could arrogantly leave an omega with 89% compatibility unattended in a hospital room?
Yan Yi felt slightly comforted. On either side of him were omegas with only 75% compatibility, remaining by Lu Shangjin’s side all these years—apparently he had had the advantage.
Yuan Mi pulled a book from the nightstand, appearing to be materials left by a nurse preparing for graduate exams—a pile of medical papers and journals.
He picked a magazine, hoping to find a picture of himself as an illustration. It was full of medical articles and ads for new drugs. Disappointed, he closed it.
On the back cover, a striking advertisement caught his eye.
Surprised, Yuan Mi tapped the table, calling Yan Yi over. “Look at this—Songlin Ai’er nitrogen mustard injection… alkylation… guanine… forget it, can’t read half these words. But a high-tech drug to improve compatibility? Nonsense… like those blue pill ads. Let me see… consumer hotline… is this 315 anti-fraud?”
Yan Yi snatched Yuan Mi’s phone to hang up, taking the magazine to study it, eyes fixed on the words: “improve compatibility.”
Yuan Mi scoffed. Even a first-stage omega with differentiated gland cells like Yan Yi would bow to pheromones, treating compatibility as sacred while sidelining his own feelings—pathetic.
“This is just street-level advertising plastered everywhere. You believe it? You’ll die,” Yuan Mi mocked. “Why bother chasing this? I know several alpha models—broad shoulders, narrow waists, long legs. Even if their glands aren’t as powerful as second-stage, dating them would be enough. So many alphas; with your conditions, finding one with higher compatibility shouldn’t be difficult.”
He wanted to push this competent, floppy-eared rabbit omega away from Lu Shangjin, monopolizing his resources and wealth.
In truth, such high compatibility was a burden to Yuan Mi. He didn’t want to be tormented by pheromones until he loved a heartless alpha. Yet, his position among the other flocks around Lu Shangjin depended on this high compatibility.
Yan Yi sighed. “You don’t understand.”
Yuan Mi rolled his eyes. “Then go inject yourself—better if you die.”
Yan Yi smiled helplessly. A blunt, foul-mouthed omega with low emotional intelligence, yet unmatched in acting skill.
Outside, entertainment reporters crowded, waiting to interview the determined, physically limited former movie emperor.
Yuan Mi quickly wiped his face with a wet wipe, dabbed on cushion BB, pulled a hat over unwashed hair, retrieved the script from under the pillow, flipping to a page with scattered notes, pretending engrossment while reading. When the reporters arrived, he lifted his gaze at the perfect angle, showing off the “sickly beauty” aesthetic in the camera, then forced a weary smile: “It’s okay. I’ll be back on set soon, everyone, don’t worry.”
Yan Yi didn’t want to see this trophy-laden, three-time award-winning actor again.
——
Lu Shangjin returned to the villa late at night, his body heavy with a chaotic mix of pheromones and alcohol, cheeks flushed from intoxication.
The driver noticed no lights inside; even if he came home late before, the house would always be lit. Yan Yi would be waiting in the corner, wrapped in a down blanket, asleep—but tonight, he wasn’t there.
This irritated Lu Shangjin.
Only the bathroom was lit. He opened the door, peering inside.
Something rolled off the countertop, shattering at his shoe, cold liquid splashing on the hem of his expensive trousers, the sharp crash of glass piercing the quiet of the empty house.
Yan Yi lay unconscious on the bathroom floor, pupils unfocused, his complexion nearly the same shade as the white walls, motionless. Beside him was a box of unlabeled syringes; used needles lay nearby. The gland at the back of his neck was swollen and reddened; his body pale, porcelain-like.
“Yan Yan.” Lu Shangjin’s pupils contracted sharply. He bent to lift him and rushed him into the car, starting the engine and speeding to the hospital.
His body was icy, no warmth, soft as a boneless corpse.
He called, and within ten minutes, the hospital had gathered all available doctors. At three a.m., the black BMW arrived. Nurses moved swiftly, placing Yan Yi onto a stretcher and rushing him into the operating room.
Lu Shangjin waited outside, listening as doctors explained the situation. Soon, his assistant arrived, running errands in the lobby.
The doctor, a beta, shivered at Lu Shangjin’s icy presence. The second-stage gland cells emitted powerful pheromones, forcing the beta to tremble, voice quivering as he reported the operation in real-time: “The patient injected unknown substances into the gland, causing dysregulation. The situation is unclear. We will do our utmost. Please wait patiently for the final outcome, Mr. Lu.”
The assistant finished the paperwork and returned, still sweating, hearing Lu Shangjin’s low, furious voice: “What happened?”
The assistant was at a loss—how could he explain the whimsical actions of a floppy-eared rabbit?
Unable to answer, he racked his brain to recall Yan Yi’s schedule today. Slapping his forehead: “He spent a long time in Mr. Yuan’s room… he should be resting now… I can check tomorrow?”
Lu Shangjin brushed him aside, taking the elevator alone to the intensive care floor.
Yuan Mi, awakened by a loud kick to the door, blinked at the bright lights and was immediately lifted and thrown off the bed.
Lu Shangjin looked down coldly.
After hearing Yuan Mi’s explanation, he did not calm down. Without mercy, he stomped on Yuan Mi’s fragile abdomen.
Yuan Mi curled up like a shrimp, blood choking his throat, trapped under Lu Shangjin’s foot. He cried out in pain and confusion: “What does it have to do with me if he went mad and acted foolishly? I pricked his hand, but he didn’t suffer any loss!”
Perhaps the news had never reported an alpha destroying an omega with 89% compatibility like this. Lu Shangjin’s rage had not abated; he remained silent, indifferent.
Pricked his hand?
Lu Shangjin paused, assuming Yan Yi’s attack on Yuan Mi was impulsive.
Yuan Mi clung to Lu Shangjin’s leg like a desperate supplicant, grasping at his trousers, voice choked with pain, seeking an explanation:
“Lu… why… between us, with 89% compatibility, you hit me instead?”