Pei Siyue carried Ruan Shuyang toward the elevator, his voice unusually cold and stern. “You know you’re suffering, yet you didn’t call for help?”
Ruan Shuyang had never heard Pei Siyue speak to him in such an icy tone. He sniffed, tears welling up in his eyes from the hurt.
“Brother, I… I had no strength left after getting home.”
He hadn’t meant to stay silent. He’d planned to rest on the sofa, but the high fever had knocked him unconscious.
Holding Ruan Shuyang, Pei Siyue felt the small omega’s body burning hot in his arms, even slightly warmer than his own.
Usually, the little omega’s temperature was lower than his own, and during winter, he always liked to snuggle close for warmth.
This scorching heat now sent a chill through him, as if someone were using such intense heat to burn his very heart.
He struggled to suppress his suppressed and anxious emotions, maintaining his composure as he asked in a low voice, “When did the fever start?”
Ruan Shuyang dared not conceal the truth. “This afternoon.”
Upon hearing this, Pei Siyue’s rage surged so fiercely that his pheromones threatened to erupt uncontrollably. Ruan Shuyang felt as if he were tumbling through icy-cold seawater one moment, only to find it scorching hot the next, burning him with terror.
“Ruan Shuyang.” Pei Siyue tossed him into the backseat, covered him with his coat, his voice cold with fury. “You started running a fever this afternoon. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you go see a doctor?!”
Ruan Shuyang had never been scolded so harshly by Pei Siyue before. He felt so wronged he wanted to cry.
He knew Pei Siyue was only worried about him, but illness made him feel especially vulnerable. His large eyes filled with tears, hanging heavy in their sockets.
“This afternoon… I had class. Brother, I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I was going to tell you after I rested at home.”
Ruan Shuyang was an exemplary student.
Once, academics were his greatest hope for leaving the Ruan household. He had always studied diligently, avoiding absences whenever possible. Even during high school, when feverish, he would push through classes before going to the hospital.
Ruan Shuyang was a model student.
Once upon a time, his studies were his greatest hope for leaving the Ruan household. He had always worked extremely hard, avoiding absences whenever possible. Even during high school, when he was sick with a high fever, he would push through and finish his classes before going to the hospital.
This habit carried over into university.
While many classmates skipped unimportant classes, Ruan Shuyang never did. He attended even minor electives, studying diligently without missing a single session.
Moreover, this afternoon’s class was a core subject. With finals approaching, the professor was reviewing key exam points. Ruan Shuyang was even more determined not to miss it, planning to rest at home afterward before deciding whether to seek medical help.
His fever hadn’t been this high when he arrived home; it had only spiked after he lay down on the sofa for a while.
But he lacked the energy to explain. The high fever left him dizzy and disoriented, as if everything before his eyes was spinning endlessly. He couldn’t even be certain if he’d been lying in the backseat of the car, because his entire body felt like it was spinning.
Pei Siyue walked around to the front to drive, heading straight to Ruiji Hospital.
Upon arrival, they were admitted to a VIP ward. A nurse came to take his temperature, blood pressure, and draw fingerstick blood.
Ruan Shuyang’s fever had reached 40 degrees Celsius.
Back home, Pei Siyue had known the fever was severe just by touching his forehead—otherwise he wouldn’t have rushed him straight to the hospital. A regular fever could be managed with medication and rest at home.
He quickly helped Ruan Shuyang sit up and fed the little omega a fever-reducing pill.
The omega’s delirium clouded his consciousness. When he opened his eyes, his gaze was filled with confusion, as if he couldn’t recognize who Pei Siyue was.
Pei Siyue closed his eyes, unable to suppress the rising panic within him.
What if… what if Ruan Shuyang was like Jiang Ruowan…
No. That couldn’t be.
Ruan Shuyang hadn’t undergone the mark cleansing procedure. His immune system was intact, and he was still young—a high fever shouldn’t be enough to bring him down.
Pei Siyue knew this rationally, yet emotionally, his worry remained uncontrollable.
He held the small, soft, and burning-hot body in his arms tightly, clutching it close. Only the tangible presence and warmth in his embrace could bring him a semblance of calm.
He held him tightly, reluctant even to let go and place the little omega back on the bed. He needed to hold him himself to feel at ease.
After holding him for a long while, he slowly laid Ruan Shuyang flat on the bed. He lay down beside him, still cradling the small omega in his arms.
After taking the fever reducer, Ruan Shuyang’s temperature dropped slightly. He slowly regained consciousness, no longer feeling dizzy and disoriented the moment he opened his eyes, nor too weak to speak.
He closed his eyes to rest for a moment, then opened them again. He sensed he was lying on his side, cradled in the arms of the tall enigma beside him.
His head was buried in Pei Siyue’s embrace, his expression hidden. He could only feel that Pei Siyue seemed to be in a very bad mood, his pheromones heavy with suppressed and chaotic energy.
He vaguely recalled Pei Siyue being furious before he lost consciousness—angry that he hadn’t sought medical attention immediately, nor disclosed his illness right away.
Perhaps because of this, Pei Siyue simply held him without speaking, nor did he use his pheromones to soothe him.
His mind had been stuffed with final exam content and teacher-highlighted notes, leaving no room to think about informing him beforehand.
Ruan Shuyang felt he had done wrong.
He strained his thin arms to wrap them around Pei Siyue, apologizing in a soft, obedient voice: “Brother, please don’t be angry. Next time I get sick, I’ll tell you right away.”
Still sick, his body felt inexplicably weary. Uttering those words drained him, and after speaking, he closed his eyes and breathed softly.
Pei Siyue sensed Ruan Shuyang had woken in his arms. He hesitated to move, wanting to hold him a little longer, when he felt the small omega struggle to lift his hand onto him and offer that obedient apology.
A wave of bitterness washed over him.
He shouldn’t have been so harsh earlier. Ruan Shuyang was only eighteen. How could he lose his temper and snap at a sick little omega? Making such a young omega comfort him—losing control of his emotions was his fault.
He tightened his embrace around Ruan Shuyang, his voice low and hoarse. “Softie, you don’t need to apologize. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“Were you scared?”
Ruan Shuyang was too weak to move much, only able to rub against Pei Siyue’s chest softly. “No, big brother.”
“You didn’t look angry back then. I wasn’t scared.”
Though feverish and dazed, he hadn’t been truly afraid. He knew Pei Siyue’s harshness stemmed from worry, not intent to harm.
He’d just felt a little hurt. Sick people are vulnerable; they crave hugs and comfort. But Pei Siyue hadn’t comforted him—he’d scolded him instead.
But now that Pei Siyue was comforting him, the resentment melted away.
Pei Siyue bent down and kissed his feverish forehead. “How do you feel now?”
Ruan Shuyang closed his eyes, feeling the warmth for a moment. “Very hot.”
On the way to the hospital, he’d felt alternately cold and hot, but his hands and feet had remained icy.
Now he felt warmth spreading through his extremities.
Pei Siyue touched Ruan Shuyang’s hand, finding the slender, soft palm also growing warm. He breathed a slight sigh of relief.
The most dangerous sign for someone with a high fever was cold extremities, as it meant the temperature was still rising. Ruan Shuyang’s warming hands and feet now signaled the fever had peaked.
He gently patted Ruan Shuyang’s back for a moment before sitting up. He picked up a cooling patch from the bedside table and applied it to Ruan Shuyang’s forehead. Then, carefully lifting him up, he cradled him in his arms. He took out some anti-inflammatory medicine and water, feeding it to him.
After swallowing the medicine, Ruan Shuyang still felt utterly drained. Leaning against Pei Siyue’s embrace, he asked, “Brother, what’s wrong with me?”
“Bacterial infection,” Pei Siyue explained, pausing before adding reassuringly, “Softie, don’t be afraid. You’ll get better soon.”
“Mm.” Ruan Shuyang closed his eyes and snuggled obediently, then said to Pei Siyue, “Don’t be afraid either, Brother. I’m in great shape. I’ve always gotten through illnesses and fevers on my own. I’ll be fine.”
He had always believed himself to be in excellent health. Occasional illnesses or fevers were simply dealt with by buying some fever-reducing medicine and enduring it for a few days.
This time would be no different.
Pei Siyue buried his face in Ruan Shuyang’s neck, breathing in the delicate scent of lily of the valley while his arms wrapped tightly around Ruan Shuyang’s waist.
“I’m not scared.”
Ruan Shuyang suddenly felt a tingling in his glands. He reached out with his fever-flushed fingertips, clutching Pei Siyue’s clothes as he rubbed against him like a small animal, whispering, “Brother, I want your pheromones.”
He felt miserable being sick and craved Pei Siyue’s companionship and comfort—the soothing embrace of his pheromones.
“Alright.”
Pei Siyue bent down to kiss Ruan Shuyang’s forehead once more, then released a small amount of pheromones to comfort the young omega.
In the quiet hospital room, they embraced silently, nestling close to each other, drawing warmth from one another.
**
Illness strikes like a mountain collapsing; recovery unfurls like silk being drawn.
Though Ruan Shuyang felt his body was recovering well and would be fine in a couple of days, full healing still required time.
These past days, his fever kept fluctuating. The fever reducers would work temporarily, but the temperature would climb again. A high fever caused by bacterial infection wasn’t so easily overcome.
Pei Siyue hadn’t gone anywhere these past days, staying by his side in the hospital room. Fortunately, it was the weekend with few work commitments.
On Sunday morning, urgent business required attention. Since Pei Siyue wouldn’t leave the room, Jiang Wu had no choice but to bring the documents over. The moment he entered the room, he nearly collapsed from the overwhelming surge of chaotic enigma pheromones filling the space.
His voice trembled as he said, “Boss, control yourself. Don’t let it happen.”
He desperately hoped there wasn’t a vulnerable period. Otherwise, he feared the boss might lose control, act irrationally, cause trouble on the streets, and end up being subdued and taken away by several police squads.
Pei Siyue: “…”
He stared expressionlessly at Jiang Wu, saying nothing.
These past two days, he’d tried desperately to control himself, but it felt impossible.
The bitter winter already weighed heavily on his mood. With Jiang Ruowan’s death anniversary approaching, the little omega had been running a persistent high fever, his consciousness hazy with illness.
The combination of factors left him in an unprecedentedly foul mood. Despite three injections of suppressants, he still couldn’t quell the chaos of his pheromones.
Ruan Shuyang, due to his marking, didn’t sense the oppressive pheromones in the hospital room. He only felt Pei Siyue’s bad mood.
But Jiang Wu, being an alpha, felt the enigma pheromones’ pressure acutely, almost hesitating to enter the room.
In the end, Pei Siyue emerged from the room and stood at the doorway to finish reading the items.
After reading, he returned to the room and closed the door, finding Ruan Shuyang lying quietly asleep on the hospital bed.
His fair cheeks still bore the flush of a high fever, and his usually soft, moist light-cherry lips had grown dry and paler.
It was heartbreaking.
Pei Siyue moistened a cotton swab with water and gently dampened the little omega’s lips.
By evening, Ruan Shuyang woke up and sat on the edge of the bed to eat dinner.
It had been over eight hours since his last fever-reducing medication. His temperature hadn’t spiked again, hovering around 98.6°F (37°C) without exceeding 99.5°F (37.5°C).
He felt mostly recovered and didn’t want to stay in the hospital; he wanted to go home.
After finishing his meal, he made this request to Pei Siyue, who agreed.
Ruan Shuyang’s high fever had largely subsided, and returning to familiar surroundings would aid his recovery.
Wrapped in a thick quilt like a cocoon, Ruan Shuyang was carried by Pei Siyue to the car. He drove them home, then carried the cocoon-like figure back to the bed in the room.
After placing him on the bed, Pei Siyue removed the quilt, gently stroked Ruan Shuyang’s hair, and whispered, “Leave the door open tonight. Call me if you need anything.”
Ruan Shuyang nodded obediently. “Okay.”
He had mostly recovered from his fever, though lying in bed for two days left him feeling stiff and weak, his head a bit fuzzy.
Still, he didn’t think it was a big deal—he could go to class tomorrow.
He’d pushed through much worse illnesses before, so this hardly counted as being sick.
After washing up, he lay down and soon drifted off.
He was unaware that Pei Siyue had been checking on him nearly every hour, taking his temperature, worried his fever might return.
Fortunately, the night passed without incident.
The next morning, Ruan Shuyang set his alarm for seven and rose promptly. After checking his temperature, it remained at 37 degrees Celsius—not a fever.
Feeling recovered, he mentioned to Pei Siyue at breakfast that he planned to attend class later.
This directly led to their first argument since they’d met.
Pei Siyue had been feeling suppressed all weekend. Hearing that Ruan Shuyang wanted to go to class before fully recovering, he couldn’t control his temper and ordered, “You’re not going.”
Ruan Shuyang froze, asking with hurt and confusion, “Brother, why?”
He was fixated on studying hard and attending classes. He couldn’t understand why Pei Siyue wouldn’t let him go—his temperature had dropped to 37 degrees, perfectly fine for class.
Many classmates who were sicker than him still insisted on going to class.
“You haven’t fully recovered yet.” Seeing the confusion in Ruan Shuyang’s wide eyes, Pei Siyue closed his own eyes briefly, forcing himself to calm down before explaining, “Even if your fever completely subsides, you still need to be observed for another 24 hours. Only after confirming you’re fever-free can you return to class.”
Ruan Shuyang froze, having never heard of such a rule.
In his experience, students like them would attend class as long as the fever subsided or wasn’t severe, since missed lessons were hard to make up.
He displayed rare persistence on this matter.
“Brother, I’m fine now. I can go to class.”
Pei Siyue’s expression turned cold. “Are you being disobedient?”
Ruan Shuyang bit his lip and whispered, “I’m not being disobedient. Brother, I just want to go to class. Final exams are coming up soon, and the teacher will cover key points in class. I really want to hear them.”
“Besides, I’m really fine now.”
He’d gone to class when he was far sicker than this before. He was genuinely fine now.
“I can handle your final exams,” Pei Siyue said without hesitation, glaring at Ruan Shuyang as he commanded coldly, “Right now, you should be resting at home.”
He wasn’t fully recovered yet. Insisting on going to class when he could easily relapse with a fever—was he trying to drive him mad?
Ruan Shuyang froze upon hearing this. For the first time in Pei Siyue’s presence, he felt utterly wronged. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled silently onto the dining table, as if crashing down onto Pei Siyue’s heart.
His voice trembled with uncontrollable choking sobs: Brother, this is my education, my final exams. I’ve worked so hard for this. You can’t—you can’t just take it away with one sentence.”
He studied diligently every day, persevering through classes, all to achieve good results. After putting in so much effort, he deserved to see the payoff.
Yet Pei Siyue dismissed it with a casual “I can handle it,” expecting him to abandon his studies and stay home to recover.
He didn’t want that. He truly didn’t.
He couldn’t stop sniffling as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Pei Siyue froze upon seeing Ruan Shuyang’s tears.
The unceasing stream of tears reminded him just how deeply hurt the young omega was.
His lips trembled slightly. He closed his eyes, then suddenly clenched his fists and rose to leave.
He feared lingering any longer would make him regret the decision he’d made in that fleeting moment.
A gust of wind brushed past Ruan Shuyang. Before he could react, Pei Siyue was gone, leaving only the sound of the front door swinging shut.
Sniffing back tears, he wiped his eyes clean and stared blankly at the empty living room.
After a moment, he finished his breakfast in silence and decided to go to class.
He didn’t want to give up on the studies he’d worked so hard for.
Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly heard the doorbell ring. He walked to the entrance and saw Ji Huai standing outside.
He opened the door and heard Ji Huai say, “Mr. Pei asked me to take you to school.”
A thousand emotions surged through Ruan Shuyang. He suddenly wanted to hug Pei Siyue and apologize.
In the car, Ruan Shuyang deeply regretted his earlier argument with Pei Siyue and apologized first: “Brother, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have argued with you.”
By then, Pei Siyue had already arrived at the office. The atmosphere was heavier than ever, so oppressive that Jiang Wu stood frozen at the office door reporting work, too terrified to step inside. He kept thinking, “Please, Boss, just give me the day off. Enigma’s mood is so terrible today, and as a weak, pitiful, helpless Alpha, I simply can’t handle it.”
Why hadn’t Ruan Shuyang finished his final exams yet? If he came to the company as a winter intern, Pei Siyue would definitely rein in his aura, afraid of scaring his omega.
However, halfway through his report, Jiang Wu suddenly sensed Pei Siyue’s aura had eased considerably. Though still intensely oppressive, it no longer made an alpha tremble in fear.
He finally gathered his courage to enter the office and saw Pei Siyue typing a message.
Jiang Wu understood immediately—it must be for his omega. In this world, besides Ruan Shuyang, he hadn’t seen anyone else capable of soothing Pei Siyue, this enigmatic, suit-clad rebel.
When Pei Siyue saw the message, it felt like he’d tasted every flavor of life this morning. Thinking of his little omega likely messaging him anxiously, he replied: It’s okay, I was wrong too.
Pei Siyue: I should respect your efforts.
Later, he realized why Ruan Shuyang had been so hurt—because something he’d worked hard on for so long had been dismissed.
He really shouldn’t have acted that way. Regardless of whether he had the ability, he should have chosen respect.
Ruan Shuyang quietly finished today’s classes and planned to go home to review afterward.
The professor teaching the last class today had an unexpected matter and let them out ten minutes early. Since it wasn’t yet the time he’d agreed upon with Ji Huai that morning, he went downstairs to walk around campus.
After being cooped up in his room for two days, he craved some fresh air.
With final exams underway and classes still in session, the campus tree-lined paths were sparsely populated, lending an air of exceptional tranquility. Snow-white decorations hung from the branches lining both sides of the road, occasionally punctuated by red lanterns. The fiery red and pristine white created a striking contrast.
Winter sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground that painted a serene tableau.
New Year’s Day was approaching, Ruan Shuyang thought.
Just as he walked through the sparsely populated corridor, someone suddenly covered his mouth and dragged him to the shelter of a large, secluded tree.
Spotting Pei Siming, whom he hadn’t seen in ages, Ruan Shuyang immediately struggled, desperate to attract the attention of campus security.
“Don’t move,” Pei Siming said, his expression unsettling—a mix of despair and madness. “I’m here to save you. You might be under the control of my brother’s enigma pheromone without even knowing it.”
Ruan Shuyang frowned, unconvinced, yet unable to break free from Pei Siming’s grip.
They were in a corner of the campus, rarely frequented even normally, and today almost no one passed by. Ruan Shuyang’s struggles drew no attention.
“My brother is a monster, a devil,” Pei Siming gasped, eyes wide and bloodshot. “He clutches everything tightly, controlling it. He’d destroy it rather than let it go. He must have planted a tracker or bug on you, watching your every move.”
“When we were kids, he had a cat. I teased it just twice, and it vanished. A month later, I heard it died. He must have killed it. Just because I teased his cat, he felt it didn’t belong to him anymore and had to destroy it.”
” He craves control over everything he cares about. He’s an enigma—his pheromones can manipulate people without anyone noticing.“ Pei Siming’s mind seemed shattered, his face contorted with madness. ”Your father told me you despise mental control and resist it fiercely. But guess what? There exists a form of mental manipulation so silent, you’d never even realize it’s happening. ”
“You’ve been by his side for so long. Have you ever felt unable to escape his pheromones, craving them from time to time? Sometimes, even when your mind is focused on one thing, you find yourself unknowingly drawn to another. Other times, despite not wanting to act a certain way, you obey without conscious thought. The most terrifying part is that you convince yourself these actions stem from your own desires, never realizing you’re being mentally manipulated.”
Ruan Shuyang’s struggle gradually subsided.
He was exceptionally sensitive to mental manipulation and intensely disliked being controlled.
Yet he realized he truly couldn’t escape Pei Siyue’s pheromones now. He craved them intermittently—not just for healing, but purely for the sake of it.
Whenever he wavered about treatment, Pei Siyue’s coaxing easily swayed him into agreement.
There were things he clearly didn’t want to say, yet after being coaxed by Pei Siyue, he’d slowly spill them out bit by bit.
There were also times when he was thinking about one thing, only to be steered toward another.
Sometimes he didn’t want to sleep, his mind too full of worries to rest, yet he’d find himself lulled to sleep by Pei Siyue without realizing it.
Pei Siming saw Ruan Shuyang gradually stop struggling and loosened his grip slightly.
Ruan Shuyang didn’t look at Pei Siming. Instead, he stared at the branches of a tree in a corner of the campus not far away and said, ” I know there’s a tracker on me.”
It was inside the necklace—he’d felt it once.
Pei Siyue couldn’t shake his worry for Ruan Shuyang, so he decided to pick him up instead of Ji Huai.
But after waiting a while in the underground parking lot without seeing the young omega arrive, he simply followed the location signal to find him.
Enigma’s senses were exceptionally keen. From a considerable distance, he spotted Ruan Shuyang standing with Pei Siming and overheard Pei Siming calling him a demon.
Pei Siyue slowed his pace. After listening for a moment, he grew weary of the exchange and prepared to walk past. Suddenly, he heard Ruan Shuyang say—
“I know there’s a tracking device on me.”
He halted his approach, positioning himself where neither could see him. He listened quietly, his eyes dark and unfathomable. His handsome face betrayed no emotion, as if every feeling was concealed within those ocean-deep orbs.
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