Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 38: Blank Gland Forcibly Injected with Rotten Pheromones

Chapter 38: Blank Gland Forcibly Injected with Rotten Pheromones

Perhaps because he had recently toyed with an innocent protagonist’s emotions and committed such a guilty act, Xu Jiu today exhibited more fear than usual when faced with these supernatural occurrences.

Xu Jiu buried his head so low it nearly pierced through the cold ceramic tiles like an ostrich digging its head into the ground.

The phone kept ringing, the accusatory voice never ceasing.

It was as if a radio channel had been mistakenly tuned, unleashing a torrent of chaotic electronic static from the receiver.

It sounded like a river filled with corpses, using ears as eyes—a horrifying sight to behold.

Xu Jiu lunged forward, gripping the phone tightly as if strangling someone’s neck, the muscles beneath his skin bulging grotesquely with effort, wishing he could crush the device to death.

A chilling wind blew against Xu Jiu’s back, focused solely on his spine without brushing past his sides or stirring his hair.

It felt like a flimsy veil suddenly clinging to his back from behind, then stepping onto him to become a weightless attached spirit.

Whether it was psychological or not, Xu Jiu felt something pressing on his shoulder, as if that entity had leaned down, pressing against his cheek to peer alongside his gaze at the glowing, noisy object in his hand.

Xu Jiu took a deep breath, mustering courage to slowly turn his head and look.

The weight on his shoulder vanished instantly without a trace.

When he turned back, the phone had fallen silent.

Staring at the unfamiliar number on the screen, a bold idea surged within Xu Jiu.

He clicked the unknown number and selected Call.

Beep—

Beep——

The call actually connected!

Hello? Xu Jiu mustered his courage to speak first.

The other end was quiet, but occasional wind-like sounds resembled breathing.

Fueled by extreme anger after his fear, Xu Jiu clenched his molars, chewing anxiously on his emotions between his lips before spitting out words through gritted teeth:

F-u-c-k y-o-u-r e-n-t-i-r-e f-a-m-i-l-y.

Too cowardly to hear the response after using up his bravery, Xu Jiu immediately hung up and swiftly blocked the number again.

Having done this, Xu Jiu scrambled up from the floor, only to look up and see a bright spark floating in the darkness.

Not the hazy glow of a night light, but like a flame—a tiny point of brilliance in the deep black, shining almost like a star in the sky, its edges sharply outlined against the darkness.

At this moment, that spark resembled a candle suddenly lit in the distant night of a desert.

Eerie, yet equally captivating.

Xu Jiu tightened his grip on his blank phone screen and walked toward the spark.

Ghosts have no physical form—it must be a person.

If it’s human, Xu Jiu wasn’t afraid, especially since this was his home.

Who are you?

Why aren’t you speaking?

What are you doing here?

Xu Jiu asked while approaching, only realizing he had reached the spark when his head bumped directly into a warm chest.

Xu Jiu looked up but saw nothing in the darkness, so he reached out to touch without permission.

It felt like a person—skin that was warm and soft to the touch, with the undulating contours of muscle beneath.

Xu Jiu leaned closer, straining to see more clearly through the darkness.

The other person also shifted forward, accommodating Xu Jiu’s curiosity by closing the distance and offering more of himself for Xu Jiu to freely explore.

He couldn’t discern much—only that the other was a shirtless man whose form was tangible beneath his touch.

By the faint glow of an ember, he could make out the man’s hand resting on the marble railing of the second-floor corridor, a cigarette held between two fingers.

That was how Xu Jiu had spotted the guiding spark in the dark.

“Who are you? Xu Jiu asked again.

Just then, a crisp click sounded in the air.

A familiar flame flared to life, illuminating the narrow space between them and outlining their silhouettes in warm-toned lines.

Xu Jiu followed the light to the person before him.

It was Xu Yicheng—that cheap brother who had dropped from the sky to seize the family fortune.

Xu Yicheng wore only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp, clinging limply and messily to his scalp, the strands at his forehead matted together by the water. For once, his face was clearly visible.

Still shaken from the scare, Xu Jiu had no energy to bother with Xu Yicheng. He leaned against the marble railing as well, the cold of the stone quickly seeping through his clothes and spreading across his body, causing him to shiver.

Xu Yicheng’s gaze followed Xu Jiu naturally. He brought the cigarette to his lips, took a slow drag, then rested his wrist on the railing and gave a light flick, sending a wisp of ash drifting down.

Suddenly, Xu Yicheng asked, “Where did you go during the day?

“None of your damn business, Xu Jiu retorted irritably, punctuating his words with a resentful punch to his own arm.

Watching Xu Yicheng take another drag, Xu Jiu was enveloped by a thick, white smoke carrying a heavy, damp humidity.

He couldn’t understand why the air carried such a scent.

It was like walking down a shaded path in the rainy season of June—a putrid, swamp-like odor rising from the sky, the trees, and the earth.

Not fresh, but the smell of death.

It was as if the lives lost in the harsh winter, buried deep in the soil, had revived in the warm, damp season with a second wave of unwilling resentment, stirring the stagnant, humid world with fierce discontent.

The dense, oppressive moisture weighed heavily in the air. Just being near it was enough to make one’s scalp tingle with a suffocating dread.

Nausea and dizziness set in, accompanied by the muggy heat of the June rainy season. An inexplicable fire seemed to scorch his skin, burning so intensely it felt as though his clothes might dry up and crumble to ash.

Xu Jiu found it strange—why did this scent trigger such a reaction?

He took a large step back, but the darkness felt eerily cold, so he shuffled a small step forward again. Half his body remained in the firelight, half in shadow, maintaining just enough distance to avoid being overwhelmed by the stifling heat and humidity cast by the lighter’s glow.

Xu Yicheng didn’t press further about Xu Jiu’s whereabouts. Instead, he turned his arm and offered the remaining half of the cigarette to Xu Jiu’s lips.

Xu Jiu glanced at Xu Yicheng with some distaste, but given the strange discomfort currently affecting both his nerves and body, he still chose to accept the offered cigarette.

Holding it between two fingers, he brought it to his lips and inhaled. A pungent jasmine scent mixed with the odor of decaying earth recklessly pierced through his nose and throat like a blade. With one deep lungful, the smoke was completely absorbed into the depths of his bloodstream.

Xu Jiu coughed twice. I want to ask you something.

Go ahead.

Luo Wenlin said his pheromone compatibility with me is high, so I—

Xu Jiu’s upper and lower lips suddenly seemed to wrestle, clashing twice as he swallowed the words about them getting married and cut straight to the point:

I want to ask what exactly pheromones are?

Heh. Xu Yicheng laughed.

Xu Jiu had been standing in his pheromones for who knows how long, practically marinated in the scent, yet here he was naively asking what pheromones were.

He could clearly smell them but didn’t know what they were.

If someone fed them to him someday and claimed it was a sausage, he’d probably believe it.

Xu Yicheng gazed at Xu Jiu. Unlike Cao Weidong’s lifeless eyes, his own brimmed with meaning—curiosity about Xu Jiu, and amusement at his question.

The concentration of scent in the air intensified once more, this time completely crossing the boundary between the lighter’s illumination and the darkness, forcibly pulling Xu Jiu’s half-concealed body into the cage of fragrance.

Xu Jiu rubbed his nose, thinking it was the cigarette between his lips causing the issue. He held it in his hand, examining it repeatedly in the lighter’s glow.

Hold out your hand, Xu Jiu commanded the man before him.

Xu Yicheng naturally spread his palm open before Xu Jiu.

He knew what Xu Jiu intended to do and was prepared.

The cigarette butt was pressed against the center of Xu Yicheng’s palm, casually grinding a patch of black ash into the flesh.

When Xu Jiu released his hand, the cigarette butt weakly toppled over, rolling twice before settling back in the exact center of Xu Yicheng’s palm.

Whatever. I’m going to sleep.

Xu Jiu casually snatched the lighter from Xu Yicheng’s hand, casting a circular pool of light ahead. He stepped into the orange glow and walked toward his room.

Back in his room, a cup of warm milk sat on the bedside table with a note underneath from his mother.

[Sweetie, remember to drink this.]

Xu Jiu didn’t overthink it and drank it in one gulp. Soon, his eyes grew heavy as if weighted by mountain rocks, and overwhelming drowsiness dragged him headfirst into darkness.

It was at this moment that his door was pushed open a crack.

Xu Yicheng entered from outside, taking Xu Jiu’s phone. The screen’s faint light fell on the man’s face as his dark pupils darted rapidly, scanning information across the display.

He cleaned out Xu Jiu’s contact list, checked calls and messages, and reviewed social apps like WeChat—opening each to confirm their contents.

Only after verifying that Xu Jiu hadn’t been secretly fooling around behind his back did he relax and set the phone down, his gaze returning to Xu Jiu.

He slowly approached the bed, reached under the covers, and grasped Xu Jiu’s neck—not to choke him, but to flip him over and press against the gland at the nape of his neck.

Slender fingers pressed against the soft skin at the back of his neck, kneading repeatedly. After a while, Xu Yicheng felt surprised.

The gland that should have released pheromones showed no trace of any scent other than Xu Yicheng’s own, even after being thoroughly massaged and softened.

Xu Yicheng observed for a long time before finally understanding—

Xu Jiu had no pheromones of his own. He was a blank slate.

Having been soaked in Xu Yicheng’s pheromones for too long before sleep, this blank slate had grown moldy under the damp influence of the rainy season, naturally carrying that same scent.

Xu Jiu felt uncomfortable from the kneading, curling his whole body into a ball while letting out soft, muffled complaints through his nose, humming and whimpering.

Xu Yicheng increased the pressure of his hand, rubbing the gland until it turned red.

The air still carried that same scent—damp and moldy, brought to him by Xu Yicheng, and now returned to Xu Yicheng.

Xu Jiu’s body trembled in response, his hands flailing in front of him as he tried to push away the restless hand pressed against him.

The effect of the medicine far outweighed his individual consciousness.

Xu Yicheng freely toyed with the gland, and the unwilling, slightly frowning plaything in his hands gradually turned red as if bleeding beneath the skin. Heat escaped from his slightly parted lips along with trembling, whimpering sounds.

Suddenly, the Alpha in his hands shuddered violently, then fell into a deathly stillness, leaving only the rapid, hot breaths puffing urgently from his lips.

Having had enough fun, Xu Yicheng took no further action.

He collected the cup and note, then closed the door and left.

When Xu Jiu woke up the next day and lifted the blanket, his world collapsed.

At the age of twenty-five, a man’s prime, he had experienced a wet dream.

Blushing, Xu Jiu warned the maid who came to clean not to speak of it carelessly. The maid nodded in agreement.

Sweetheart, it’s time for lunch.

Xu’s Mother called from the first floor. Xu Jiu changed into fresh clothes and hurried downstairs, throwing himself into his mother’s embrace with affectionate whimpers and acting cute.

Xu’s Mother pulled Xu Jiu to the table. While enjoying the food his mother fed him, Xu Jiu quickly read about ABO on his phone.

He roughly understood what kind of world this was—one where Alphas and Omegas could marry regardless of gender.

So it wasn’t strange that Luo Wenlin wanted to marry him.

Mom, am I a Superior Alpha?

Rather than being curious about the ABO worldview, Xu Jiu was more interested in whether he was a top-tier, superior Alpha.

Of course you are! You’re quite the famous handsome Alpha in Y City. Countless Omegas out there want to be with you. Xu’s Mother pinched his cheeks, growing more and more proud as she spoke.

What about him? Xu Jiu didn’t name names, but his target was unmistakable.

Your brother isn’t as good as you.

Xu Jiu stared at the sentence on his phone screen—Superior Alphas can control and intimidate those beneath them by releasing pheromones—unable to look away for a long time.

Xu Jiu let out a sharp breath and cursed, Hmph, defective goods.

After eating, Xu Jiu took a stroll in a nearby park and happened to run into Luo Wenlin, who was on his way home. The two met.

Luo Wenlin smiled politely at him and initiated a greeting.

Xu Jiu, however, felt awkward. The thought that this person wanted to marry him made him utterly uncomfortable.

Xu Jiu didn’t want to exchange pleasantries with him either, cutting straight to the point: Do you really want to marry me? Doesn’t it disgust you?

Luo Wenlin nodded.

Someone as beautiful as Xu Jiu was popular everywhere, so even though he was the fake young master, the Xu family preferred to dote on Xu Jiu rather than Xu Yicheng.

Am I not even allowed to have unrequited feelings?

Not allowed.

Xu Jiu directly sentenced Luo Wenlin’s emotions to death.

You’re truly harsh.

Luo Wenlin commented softly, the smile on his face fading away.

Xu Jiu lit a cigarette and snapped irritably: One question – will you give up or not? If not, we have nothing more to discuss. Don’t meet me again, don’t even greet me.

With things put so bluntly, Luo Wenlin had no choice but to concede.

I have matters to attend to, goodbye.

Even though Luo Wenlin agreed to what he said, Xu Jiu still made a quick escape, not wanting to exchange another word of small talk.

After spending more time wandering outside, Xu Jiu suddenly remembered he actually had a job to go to, though it was just a nominal position.

He turned the car around and sped toward the company with a roar.

The company was located in the suburbs, enormous in scale, with every second of its operations affecting numerous associated companies throughout Y City, weaving a commercial network that spread across the entire city.

In such a company, having one more Xu Jiu made no difference, having one less Xu Jiu mattered even less.

In fact, Xu Jiu not coming to the company actually reduced the pressure on other executives.

Xu Jiu’s arrival attracted many surprised glances. He came to the company less than twice a year, and those two times were probably when his excessive spending got his bank cards frozen by his father and he came to make a scene.

What are you looking at? Don’t you know about the prodigal son’s return?

Xu Jiu glared back at them one by one, holding a cup of iced Americano he hadn’t taken a single sip from, putting on a show as he walked past their workstations.

Following his assistant’s lead through the maze-like company interior, he finally reached his own office.

The moment he opened the door, lifted his head, and opened his eyes, Xu Jiu never expected to lock eyes directly with Xu Yicheng.

He nearly dropped the iced Americano in his hand.

Xu Yicheng now wore bulky black-framed glasses on his nose bridge. He stood leaning against the desk, one hand supporting himself on the desktop, the other holding a thin stack of documents, while two people in suits reported to him.

Behind the heavy black frames, Xu Yicheng’s eyes resembled deep, stagnant pools of dark water, the gloom in their depths crashing outward uncontrollably, not even contained by the massive, cumbersome frames.

Xu Yicheng stared expressionlessly at the two men before him, who trembled with fear, their voices shaking as they spoke, too intimidated by his overwhelming oppressive aura to even breathe heavily.

The moment Xu Jiu stepped into the office, everything froze, simultaneously shattering the gloomy oppression brought by Xu Yicheng.

While you were away, your brother Vice President Xu has been handling departmental affairs for you, Xu Jiu’s assistant explained.

Xu Jiu waved his hand, signaling him to stop talking.

Xu Yicheng also gestured for the two employees before him to leave first.

Just as the two suited employees brushed past Xu Jiu, Xu Jiu pointed at Xu Yicheng, then pointed outside the door, uttering one blunt word:

Get out.

The narrow office suddenly plunged into an even heavier low-pressure atmosphere, like two enemies unexpectedly meeting on a precarious, crumbling wooden bridge hanging over a cliff.

There were other people on the bridge, but one of the enemies carried such malevolent energy that they seemed eager to cut the ropes connecting the wooden planks, wishing for everyone to fall off the cliff.

The two employees blocking the doorway were instantly unsure whether to leave or stay, feeling that any movement might draw attention, so they silently stood against the wall.

Xu Jiu tilted his head back slightly, revealing a disgusted expression, his finger still hovering in mid-air as he impatiently pointed toward the office door, waiting for Xu Yicheng’s response.

Xu Yicheng replied with one word: Okay.

Xu Yicheng set down the unfinished document in his hand, walked straight up to Xu Jiu, then turned and moved past him.

At the same time, Xu Jiu suddenly called out:

Wait.

Naturally, Xu Yicheng stopped in his tracks, waiting for Xu Jiu to issue the next command.

Xu Jiu walked over to the desk, disregarding whatever documents were on it, picked them up, raised his hand high, and tossed them upward.

The papers fell like a heavy snowfall, pressing down in sheets, squeezing all lines of sight into the narrow gaps between the papers. Everyone had to lower their heads and peer through these slits to catch a glimpse of Xu Jiu.

Pick them up.

Everyone except Xu Yicheng immediately bent down to gather the papers.

Xu Jiu rolled his eyes even more disdainfully, tapping his hand on the desk. A bunch of fools, I didn’t tell you to move.

Everyone paused and looked up at Xu Yicheng.

They all knew this was a deliberate humiliation aimed at Xu Yicheng—a case of the fake young master bullying the real young master’s personal dignity.

Okay.

Under everyone’s gaze, Xu Yicheng bowed his head and bent down to Xu Jiu without any hesitation, smoothly gathering the scattered documents from the floor and holding them in his hands.

It didn’t feel like he was being humiliated; it seemed like he was just doing what was expected of him.

Even Xu Yicheng himself didn’t perceive it as humiliation, let alone anyone else.

Give them to me. Xu Jiu bit down on the straw of his iced Americano, the dark brown liquid stuck at the top of the straw. It looked like he was drinking, but in reality, he hadn’t taken a single sip.

From the moment he entered the company, Xu Jiu hadn’t drunk a drop; the iced Americano was merely a prop in his cosplay of a urban elite.

It was part of the fashion ensemble that completed his look: vibrant pink hair, a black high-neck wool sweater underneath, a retro PU and deep brown wool blend jacket on top, tapered suit pants, and Martin boots.

Xu Yicheng stepped forward and handed the documents to Xu Jiu.

In the next second, Xu Jiu unhesitatingly flung the documents away again.

The thick stack of papers hit Xu Yicheng in the face with a force no lighter than a sudden slap, while the sharp edges of the brand-new A4 paper cut into his skin like knives.

By the time the papers settled on the floor, Xu Yicheng’s face was flushed and burning, marked with four or five thin, bleeding lines on his cheeks.

Pick them up.

Xu Jiu laughed, his sharp teeth grinding against the tip of the coffee straw, producing faint, grating sounds.

Xu Yicheng bent down again, but Xu Jiu simply hopped onto the desk, one leg kicking out and landing on Xu Yicheng’s shoulder. He pointed a clean, pink-tipped finger lightly at a spot on the floor, his tone playful as he said:

Kneel down and pick them up.

When the humiliation reached the point of kneeling, someone finally couldn’t hold back and spoke up:

Young Master Xu, this isn’t appropriate. This is the company, and he’s your brother.

Xu Jiu withdrew his foot from Xu Yicheng’s body. The crowd thought he had come to his senses, but in the next second, Xu Jiu raised his arm and pointed at the person who had spoken, gesturing twice through the air.

Then you kneel with him too.

After saying this, Xu Jiu still seemed unsatisfied. His gaze swept over the faces of two others, searching for anyone else daring enough to step forward and challenge him.

His piercing stare swept back and forth, conveying only four words: None of your business.

Sure enough, with Xu Jiu’s utterly unethical targeting, the other two dared not voice their disagreement even if they thought it inappropriate. They lowered their heads trembling, terrified of being implicated.

Hurry up, kneel before me, and kowtow twice.

Xu Jiu’s face was full of malicious amusement, his lips curled high with sharp canine teeth pressing against the corners—unabashedly projecting aggression.

You’ve got nerve, but if you dare oppose me, I’ll make you suffer.

When the employee remained motionless for too long, Xu Jiu shifted his pointing finger sideways before finally landing on the person in the middle.

You two—help him kneel.

Facing all this, Xu Yicheng didn’t even glance sideways, his gaze perpetually fixed on Xu Jiu.

Devoid of emotion, he felt no burden over others being implicated for helping him. His eyes remained numbly locked on Xu Jiu, indifferent to anyone else’s plight.

Others’ circumstances meant nothing to him.

Xu Jiu impatiently rapped his knuckles on the table.

Kneel now unless you want to be fired.

Finally succumbing to the pressure, the man dropped to his knees.

Still dare to speak out of turn? Xu Jiu questioned him.

The man shook his head repeatedly.

Only then did Xu Jiu withdraw his gaze with satisfaction, shifting it to Xu Yicheng. He reached out to contemptuously pat Xu Yicheng’s cheek, tutting repeatedly: These are the employees you manage? Daring to interfere between you and me? Tsk tsk tsk, such negligence, brother.

Xu Jiu deliberately emphasized brother, biting out the word as if wanting to crush and swallow it whole.

Xu Yicheng stared at Xu Jiu, the darkness in his eyes nearly solidifying into tangible form to envelop him. He tilted his head slightly to better press his cheek against Xu Jiu’s palm and replied: Yes.

Xu Jiu wiped his hand disdainfully on the other’s collar, cleaning off blood droplets before retrieving a lighter and cigarette from his pocket. Clenching the cigarette between his teeth, he lit it while bowing his head and mumbled the phrase both knew all too well:

Your turn.

Xu Yicheng leaned forward, his tall frame easily casting Xu Jiu—curled on the desktop—into his shadow. Unaware as he focused on lighting up, Xu Jiu somewhat clumsily released pheromones. Though the scent smelled peculiar, he didn’t dwell on it.

My turn.