Chapter 2

Chapter 2

People came and went in the corridor, glancing at the door of the intensive care unit as they passed.

The man leaning against the wall kept his head down, covering his face with one hand, his neatly trimmed hair hanging naturally downward, giving off an unusual, menacing vibe.

At first, the man was laughing behind his hand, then he slowly crouched down, his entire body trembling.

When medical staff passed by and asked if he was alright, he wouldn't respond, lost in his own world—gloomy, dejected, staring intently at the door in front of him.

He scared a passing nurse so bad she almost called security.

Lu Xingwen's vision blurred, everything just blurry halos of light.

In the darkness, seventeen-year-old Su Xingze ran toward him, wearing a blue-and-white school uniform, black obsidian earrings glinting, hair flowing with the wind of his approach, a bright smile on his face, dimples standing out, raising his hand high in greeting.

Sunlight dappled beneath the trees, and osmanthus trees on both sides of the road were in full bloom, pretty as a picture.

But before Su Xingze could reach him, he collapsed, falling to the ground, half his body paralyzed, staring at Lu Xingwen with terrified eyes, only his fingers twitching helplessly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't get a word out.

Lu Xingwen didn't even remember running over. He held Su Xingze, finally finding his voice: "Chen Chen, don't scare me, please, I beg you..."

Lu Xingwen wanted to call an ambulance, but he was too scared to even hold his phone—his whole mind went blank, his whole body too.

Everything around him faded to gray, losing color bit by bit, including the guy in his arms, the one he cared about more than anything.

After that, Su Xingze got deathly sick—so sick he couldn't get out of bed, couldn't speak a single word. Every day he just lay there, hooked up to tubes, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Nothing worked. Su Xingze was dying. Dying from a simple fall!

For the first time, Lu Xingwen saw how fragile life really was. But he was useless—couldn't help Su Xingze at all, couldn't save the person he loved.

His childhood friend slowly slipped away, losing his spark, and he could do nothing about it.

Back then, Lu Xingwen wasn't even living like a person, praying for a miracle, even hitting up temples to burn incense and put up talismans, hoping Su Xingze would stay.

Then one day, Su Xingze suddenly got better—but it was like he was a whole different person.

He wasn't Su Xingze, wasn't his childhood friend—more like... someone else entirely.

After recovering from his illness, Su Xingze fell head over heels for rising business star Ying Ying. To be with Ying Ying, he blew through the family fortune his mom left him without a second thought.

Even though Ying Ying couldn't stand Su Xingze and never gave him the time of day, Su Xingze would still throw himself at him, no questions asked. If Ying Ying so much as gave him a scrap of kindness, he'd die for him right then and there.

Once, he got seriously hurt saving Ying Ying, almost wrecking Chen Chen's body.

To get Chen Chen back, Lu Xingwen cut a deal with the other "Su Xingze."

It was just money, right? He had plenty.

Even if he didn't, he'd find a way to get it. As long as that guy didn't hurt Chen Chen's body, Lu Xingwen would do whatever it took.

The side effects of the meds slowly wore off. The world in Lu Xingwen's memory came crashing down, and the painful memories faded with the light in front of him, gone in a flash.

Lu Xingwen looked toward the window at the end of the corridor. Autumn sunlight slanted through the glass, warming every corner and everyone in it.

A long, pretty hand reached out the window. Sunlight fell on the palm and knuckles. The person rubbed their hands together, soaking up the sun's warmth.

Sparrows chirped outside the window, two of them huddled together, flicking their tails and peeking inside.

Inside the ward.

A little spot on the pillow was wet. The person curled up under the blanket was shaking with pain, shoulders trembling, but like he didn't feel it, kept feeling around with his hand, trying to find any trace left behind.

The sticky feel on his fingertips was obvious, but Su Xingze kept stubbornly searching.

From the start, it wasn't about a mark, or whether Lu Xingwen's pheromones were still on him—it was that his connection with Lu Xingwen was gone. Would they drift apart and end up strangers?

He'd actually been scared of this when he first realized he'd lost five years of memories, but back then he'd held onto hope, thinking Lu Xingwen was still Lu Xingwen, that time wouldn't change him, that their friendship would stay the same as always.

Maybe they shouldn't have gotten married. Everyone says marriage is where love goes to die. Maybe it was marriage that changed Lu Xingwen, or maybe time really could change someone into a stranger.

He and Lu Xingwen had known each other for over ten years, never apart since they were kids—kindergarten, elementary, middle, high school.

If Lu Xingwen really had changed, what was he supposed to do?

Su Xingze didn't know.

His body was already twenty-two, but he was still stuck at seventeen.

That spring of pushing and fighting together, painful but giving it their all.

A sweet scent mixed with the smell of blood filled the whole room. The bloodstain on the pillow spread little by little. Pheromones drifted into every corner, drowning anyone who smelled them.

The pheromone alarm began to sound. The Alpha who had been standing outside the door, never leaving, pushed it open and scooped the Omega out from under the blanket.

The Omega's face was pale, his entire body drenched, eyelids tightly shut, trembling slightly in discomfort.

Lu Xingwen let him lean against his arm. Seeing the Omega's gland a bloody mess, as if it had ruptured a second time, he quickly released his pheromones to soothe him.

The Omega in his arms never lifted his head. His voice, weakened by the massive overflow of pheromones, was small and low, like some little animal whimpering: "Xiaolu, I'm going to hate you."

After saying this, Su Xingze clenched Lu Xingwen's sleeve tightly in pain. The person he grabbed seemed to freeze, no reaction for a long time.

Lu Xingwen didn't dare react. He was afraid it was all fake.

The stranger from before had pretended to be Su Xingze for money. At first he wasn't convincing, but later, to get Lu Xingwen to do things for him, he imitated him more and more perfectly—so much so that even the people around them began to think they were the same person.

But that person had never called him "Xiaolu." That was a name exclusive to him and Su Xingze, known to no one else.

His eyes slowly turned red, bloodshot veins spreading across the whites. He felt like he was dreaming, yet it didn't seem like a dream. He could only hold the person in his arms tighter and tighter.

Five years. He finally heard that "Xiaolu" again.

The medication had worn off again, hadn't it?

Lu Xingwen's fingers trembled as he pulled out the white bottle from his pocket and dumped all the pills into his mouth. The white bottle slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor with a "ding-dong."

The medicine was bitter, but he chewed it dry and swallowed.

The bitterness spread, traveling down his throat. The Alpha on the verge of madness wept.

Tears the size of beans rolled down, falling onto Su Xingze's eyelids. The Omega blinked, too exhausted to open his eyes, only able to nuzzle deeper into the embrace of the person beside him.

"Chen Chen." Lu Xingwen lowered his head, burying his face in the Omega's neck, calling that name over and over with tender affection.

"Chen Chen, Chen Chen..."

"Chen Chen."

His voice trembled like he was terrified the other person would vanish.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault, it's all my fault." The Omega in his arms had passed out from his gland rupturing, his face pale as a sheet. Luckily, the flood of calming pheromones had stopped the bleeding from the wound.

"Chen Chen..." Lu Xingwen had called that name so many times he'd lost count, his voice raw and scratchy.

All the pheromones in his gland had been blasted out, leaving it sunken and caved in.

He was terrified that if he blinked, the man in his arms would disappear.

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe, his limbs going numb. No matter how hard he held the man in his arms, it never felt like enough. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a fist, pounding at a terrifying rate, his mind growing foggier by the second.

This had to be a dream, right? Or maybe he'd taken too many meds?

When he woke up, everything would be gone again.

His Chen Chen never came back. It was all in his head—a fantasy that could never be real.

The pheromone alarm blared, its pitch growing more frantic by the second.

The medical team finally rushed in at the sound of the alarm, trying to pry apart the two clinging to each other for dear life.

The pheromone scent in the room was suffocating, hitting the Alpha and Omega doctors hard.

The Alpha and Omega doctors got out first to escape the danger, leaving the Betas to handle the rescue.

But the Alpha on the bed was holding the Omega so tight, it was like he was trying to fuse him into his bones. Every time a doctor got close to separate them, they were hit with a blast of the Alpha's pheromones.

Betas normally weren't affected by Alpha pheromones, but the concentration in the ward was so insane it was terrifying—a burning, suffocating presence that made it hard to breathe.

A doctor who had just entered said to the attending physician, "I just ran the check—he's a top-tier Alpha, ranked in the single digits."

The attending physician ordered, "Everyone put on anti-pheromone masks and activate the pheromone dilution system. Move carefully!"

Regular Alphas didn't affect Betas, but top-tier Alphas were a whole different story—their pheromone concentration was dozens of times stronger than a normal Alpha's. And their pheromone scent was beyond abstract—it wasn't something you could pin down at all, just a terrifying presence you couldn't put into words.

These terrifying pheromones could even affect Betas, whose glands had degraded, triggering symptoms like fainting, stress responses, and full-body system failures.

Top-tier Alphas were incredibly rare—no more than ten per city—but every single one was a force to be reckoned with, practically a natural weapon. That was why most top-tier Alphas in the Alliance excelled in their own fields.

But they were also extremely dangerous. If their pheromones spiraled out of control and they lost their minds, they could cause mass casualties—even other Alphas wouldn't be safe.

The Beta attending physician, still struggling to separate them, shouted, "I need people in here now—force them apart! The Omega's gland ruptured a second time and he's unconscious, and the Alpha's going into respiratory alkalosis. We need to treat them right now!"

Just as he was about to black out completely, Lu Xingwen tightened his grip on the man in his arms one last time.

Chen Chen, when are you ever coming back?

I saw you again, just like five years ago—so bright, so cute, so full of life.

This time, you said my name, and it sounded just as beautiful as it did back in high school.

Chen Chen, I miss you.

God, I miss you so much.