The wall clock neared four in the morning. Lan Bo slowly opened his eyes.
The room’s temperature was surprisingly comfortable. Having spent so long underwater, the land’s warmth could feel stifling, dulling the mind and stirring irritability.
The alpha lay beside him, asleep, curled protectively around him. One arm rested across Lan Bo’s waist. The low air-conditioning caused tiny goosebumps to rise along Bai Chunian’s skin.
The faint scent of brandy lingered, mixed with calming pheromones that made the small room feel cozy.
Lan Bo silently observed the sleeping alpha, tracing the sharp angles of his youthful face down to the scabbed bite marks on his neck. The expression reminded him of a parent who had scolded a misbehaving child, then watched the child fall asleep with a handprint on their bottom—complex and conflicted.
Three years apart had matured the young alpha. His skin, tanned from missions and sun exposure, was darker than the snow-white softness of the breeding tank days, yet he remained handsome.
Growing three years older, he was no longer as obedient. Though stronger, he had picked up bad habits—smoking, teasing others, mood swings, irritability.
Remembering the earlier argument, Lan Bo’s tail flushed red with indignation, unable to comprehend how the once-soft little white lion raised by his pheromones could suddenly bite back.
Being a subject in the growth experiment, he couldn’t understand language fully, nor speak, but his mind worked sensitively. Lan Bo could now analyze the emotions and actions of those around him, sensing that he was in a controlled environment and detecting Bai Chunian’s unusually impulsive alpha instincts.
“Chu g…” Lan Bo tried to recall the name Bai Chunian had taught him.
“Chu, ch…”
“Chq…”
“小白 (Little White).”
That felt easier to say.
Lan Bo momentarily forgot the earlier bloody incident and nudged the alpha, who was quietly inhaling his subtle pheromones.
Bai Chunian did not wake as he normally would on a mission. Instead, he squished Lan Bo as if he were a life-sized fish-shaped pillow, holding him tightly, even draping a leg over him.
The tight embrace raised Lan Bo’s body temperature. Uncomfortable, he struggled slightly, but without enough strength, his tail swiped Bai Chunian off the bed.
With a loud crash, Bai Chunian tumbled onto the carpet, waking with a start. He grabbed the bedframe to sit up, rubbing his head, face still heavy with sleep.
Seeing Lan Bo’s tail still flushed red, Bai Chunian exclaimed instinctively, “Really? That angry? I left calming pheromones all night, your glands are all deflated, and when you wake up, you kick me off?”
Lan Bo’s mind went blank at the words, interpreting the parts he didn’t understand as insults. His tail flushed from pale red to deep crimson. In a surge of anger, he swung his tail and knocked Bai Chunian off the spiral staircase.
Quick as lightning, Bai Chunian grabbed the railing and flipped over, pinning Lan Bo down. “I suggest you don’t test my patience,” he warned.
His movement was a bit rough, and when Lan Bo struggled, the wound on his body twisted slightly. A shiver of pain ran through him. Bai Chunian immediately softened his grip, uncertain whether to rub or blow on the wound. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Hang on a little—once we get out, I’ll take you to a hospital.”
Lan Bo, seizing the moment while Bai Chunian was distracted, knocked him off the second floor.
Caught off guard, Bai Chunian tumbled down the steps, his chest bleeding heavily, until he landed at the bottom with only a trickle left.
At that moment, Lu Yan, ready with his rifle, pushed the door open and saw Bai Chunian kneeling on the carpet facing the sofa at the entrance.
Lu Yan muttered, “? That’s unnecessary.”
Du Mo quietly felt relieved he hadn’t slept in the same room as this fish; even the external backup VIP had been reduced to almost nothing. Too dangerous.
Bai Chunian scowled, stood up, and went outside. Lu Yan offered to drive, but Bai Chunian snorted, “Anyone wants to drive, drive. I’m done playing—better to go back and sleep than play house with kids.” He slid into the passenger seat, leaned the seat back, propped his feet on the window sill, rested his head on his hands, and closed his eyes.
Seeing the tension, Du Mo volunteered to drive. The moment he stepped into the driver’s seat, a jolt of electricity ran up his leg, making his hair stand on end.
Looking back, Lan Bo was coiled around the hotel’s welcome statue, glaring with warning. Electricity coursed rapidly through his semi-transparent tail, glowing brighter, clearly charging.
“Sir, you first,” Du Mo stepped back and bowed, opening the driver’s door for Lan Bo.
Lan Bo slithered in through the window, curling his long tail in waves, one arc pressing a pedal at a time, skillfully starting the car, steering out of the garage, occasionally discharging electricity to adjust the three rearview mirrors.
Lu Yan was the first to notice the strange atmosphere between them. His gaze accidentally fell on their necks, revealing several red marks and bite wounds.
“Aiya,” Lu Yan blushed, covering his eyes with his rabbit ears. “You’re not married—how can you do this?”
Bai Chunian touched the scabs on his neck, snorting softly. “Who said you need to be married to bite a neck?”
“My dad said so,” Lu Yan peeked through his ears. “He’s a falcon, has the habit of biting rabbits, so he likes to bite daddy.”
Bai Chunian rolled over, curious about the guild president’s personal life. “I thought you were asexual. His drawer was full of inhibitors.”
Lu Yan widened his eyes. “What’s asexual?”
Bai Chunian glanced at Lan Bo, taking advantage of the fish not understanding, and said boldly, “I want to have him but can’t, want to kiss him but can’t—that’s being asexual.”
Suddenly, the car braked sharply, sliding sideways and leaving a long skid mark, tossing everyone inside. Bai Chunian thought they were under attack and instinctively reached for his gun, firing in the direction he judged possible threats might come from.
The car stopped. Dawn had not yet broken. The air was heavy and still, with silence all around.
Lan Bo’s hands rested on the wheel, his expression cold and fixed. He lifted his tail off the brake pedal, curling it around Bai Chunian’s neck, pulling him close.
The two were separated by only a few centimeters, noses almost touching, inhaling each other’s faint pheromones. Lan Bo raised his chin slightly, eyes level with the alpha, and arched a brow:
“Y-You… k-kissed… less…?”
Bai Chunian froze under those sapphire eyes, his mind momentarily blank. How much could he even understand?