Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 17

Chapter 17 Locker Room (Three-in-One)

A heavy pheromone haze hung in the air.

Jiang Heng was the first to react. He hauled Yuan Shiyuan up from the floor; as Su Luochen moved to get up as well, Jiang didn’t hesitate and delivered a punch with a reverse hand.

Su Luochen’s satisfied expression instantly shifted into a dark, ferocious glare. The S-rank Alpha’s innate mating-competition instinct—already fierce by nature—erupted to its peak when he saw Yuan Shiyuan shielded behind a line of same-rank Alphas.

Yuan Shiyuan hit him, he assaulted him—that was intolerable. And who the hell did Jiang Heng think he was?!

“What’s this supposed to mean?” Su Luochen wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and fixed his stare on Yuan Shiyuan, who stood behind the Alphas. “Your teammate hit me. Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

Say what? That it was deserved?

Yuan Shiyuan said, “I can’t do anything. Call the police.”

When he spoke he didn’t even look at Su Luochen’s face; a row of Alphas stood before him. These S-rank Alphas, like wolves guarding their owner, had cordoned him into the only safe space.

“Just hit him, did you? What, must you check with the master before you hit the dog?” Bo Jin said coldly. “You think you can bully our teammate?”

“……”

Su Luochen fell silent for a moment, then incredulously said, “I bullied him?”

How could Bo Jin even say something like that?

Apart from rumpled clothes and hair, a flushed face, and slightly smudged makeup, Yuan Shiyuan was still perfectly intact—strangely beautiful.

Well, not entirely. There were unmistakable bruises forming on his hands; because Yuan Shiyuan’s skin was pale, the discoloration showed very clearly.

Su Luochen thought that was his fault then—blaming his own thick skin and poor touch that left Yuan’s hands reddened.

He seemed about to say something, and when he saw Ying Mingche he smiled oddly.

“Baby,” Su Luochen said, looking at Yuan Shiyuan. “Am I bullying you?”

As he spoke, his gaze roamed shamelessly over Yuan—the look in an Alpha’s eyes was practically a malevolent provocation.

Ying Mingche, at the end of his patience, was about to step forward when Yuan Shiyuan grabbed his wrist.

Yuan shook his head. “Don’t fight.”

Even though he had already fought.

If it was him who had hit, Su Luochen surely wouldn’t do anything to him; others, however, were another matter. Given Su Luochen’s petty, vindictive temperament—holding grudges over every slight—if anyone else had the nerve to lay hands on him, Su Luochen wouldn’t let it go easily.

Two managers were present, faces taut and glancing around nervously, terrified someone nearby would walk in on the scene. If news broke that the two boy bands had come to blows over Yuan Shiyuan, it would be a massive hassle.

It felt satisfying to fight now, but they still had to think about the whole team.

Ying Mingche tightened his grip on Yuan Shiyuan’s wrist and said, “Relax. I’m not the kind to get riled up that easily.”

Scepter cooled down; it was Necro’s turn. Yue Xiao looked at Su Luochen and asked, “What were you doing just now?”

“Give us an explanation.”

“Didn’t you all see it? That’s exactly what happened.”

Su Luochen tilted his head ostentatiously, showing the marks where Yuan Shiyuan had struck him.

He glanced provocatively at the line of Scepter Alphas—his inexplicably smug behavior was like an Alpha gloating impatiently after winning a contest of dominance.

“That’s exactly what you saw.”

He deserved a smack for acting like that. Ying Mingche muttered a curse under his breath and, unable to bear it, stepped forward—only to be stopped by a look from Yuan Shiyuan.

Zhuang He worried about the incident between Yuan Shiyuan and Jiang Heng getting out; Necro’s managers, well aware of Su Luochen’s rotten character, knew this whole thing had to have been started by Su Luochen. If they pressed the matter, they certainly wouldn’t get any favorable outcome.

They both agreed to pretend today never happened.

“Enough!” Necro’s manager forcibly pulled Su Luochen away. “You’re going to be late for the magazine shoot!”

After Zhuang He escorted Scepter away, Necro’s manager glanced at Su Luochen, but in the end said nothing.

Yue Xiao frowned. “We still have a shoot later—look at your face now.”

Su Luochen waved it off. “Just cover it up.”

He tugged at the wound at the corner of his mouth as he spoke; it still hurt a little. His eyes were bright and his mood cheerfully unbothered. “He didn’t hit that hard anyway.”

Su Luochen’s heart beat fast. As an Alpha, he wouldn’t mistake that sensation. It was strange: his susceptible period had only just ended recently—why were there signs of it returning now?

“Any inhibitors?”

An assistant immediately handed him one.

Yue Xiao took one too. After receiving the injection, he looked at his childhood friend—the first person he’d trusted—and said, “Yuan Shiyuan has a really good temper; he’s not the type to pick fights. What did you do…”

“Yeah, he’s got a good temper,” Su Luochen said with a lopsided smile, neither fully serious nor mocking.

Indeed, Yuan Shiyuan’s temper was very good—so good that when Yue Xiao reunited with him after a long separation, they nearly embraced. From afar, watching those two figures entwined, Yuan Shiyuan and his former teammates’ deep affection made it seem touching: old teammates greeting each other with embraces.

Yet when it came to him—also a former teammate—Yuan Shiyuan treated him coldly and with disgust, barely bothering to speak. Meanwhile he laughed and smiled at Nan Liujing and the others. Now he’d been hit by Yuan Shiyuan and roughed up by Yuan’s current teammates, and still not a single word of concern was spared for him.

Why should that be!

Su Luochen would rather be hit, scolded, or humiliated by Yuan Shiyuan than be continually ignored.

Yue Xiao was about to say more but was cut off by a warning from Su Luochen.

“Don’t brag to me.”

–

The atmosphere inside the van was oddly tense.

S-grade pheromones swirled.

Yuan Shiyuan could clearly feel that everyone had things they wanted to say—many began to speak and then trailed off—and it made him uneasy.

He also received private messages from various Scepter members; they all said essentially the same thing—if you need help, come to me.

What? Weird.

Yuan Shiyuan just made a group chat so he wouldn’t have to reply to each one individually: I’m short on cash, can you send me some?

Five transfers appeared in the group chat almost immediately.

“…?”

What on earth was going on? Yuan Shiyuan returned all the transfers: I can’t accept this, you didn’t note it’s a voluntary gift.

Each of the five transfers quickly came back, this time with a note indicating a voluntary gift.

Yuan Shiyuan was completely baffled.

He messaged Zhuang He privately and finally learned what had happened. While he’d gone to the restroom, the Alphas in the dressing room had mentioned the harassment he’d experienced at Ximi Entertainment. After getting in the van, they’d fallen silent, their faces clouded with complex emotions—likely imagining some melodramatic backstory.

“I’m really fine! That’s all in the past; you don’t need to look at me like that,” Yuan Shiyuan said, half laughing. “Before I left I even beat him up a bit and got a decent settlement.”

The usually taciturn Pei Yanbing spoke first: “You never told us about this.”

“Is that something to be proud of?” Yuan Shiyuan asked.

To calm the scandal, Ximi Entertainment let Chen Yan take the fall—firing him and claiming the whole thing was his personal misconduct. Yuan Shiyuan knew the matter had to stop there; he didn’t have solid evidence, and pushing it further wouldn’t change anything.

He’d already been satisfied with the financial compensation.

Yuan Shiyuan didn’t bring it up because there was nothing more to say. Was he supposed to go around telling everyone that lots of Alphas wanted to mess with him?

Being admired by an Omega could showcase an Alpha’s charm; he felt a private thrill. But being coveted by the same sex made his skin crawl.

Besides, they hadn’t been very close before.

Yuan Shiyuan was easygoing and cheerful, but he kept boundaries in his interactions—friendly without overstepping.

Maybe Su Luochen’s contrast was just too stark; even the difficult Ying Mingche looked a little more agreeable to him now.

“Besides, I’m an Alpha—what harm could I possibly suffer?” Yuan Shiyuan said in a casual tone, which only made the Alphas frown. Seeing him act so unconcerned, their gazes dropped to his face.

They really couldn’t accept what he was saying.

Ying Mingche was irritated, and that irritation had been building ever since he met Yuan Shiyuan’s former teammate. He leaned forward in his seat and grabbed a soft lock of hair that had fallen onto Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder.

“That blond, Su or whatever—he’s really messed up.” He tugged one corner of his mouth. “Just looking at him makes me sick.”

“You two used to be close?”

You’re both cut from the same cloth, Yuan thought but didn’t say. Instead he agreed halfheartedly: “Sort of. Don’t worry about it. We just had a little spat—no big deal. He won’t come looking for trouble.”

Bo Jin: “That other dad-vibe Alpha is gross too.”

“Ha.” How odd—Bo Jin could be fatherly himself, yet he called someone else dad-vibe.

The other Necro members hadn’t shown up yet, so Yuan treated them all the same: “Gross, all gross.”

Yuan could feel the atmosphere in the van ease noticeably after he said that.

He wondered—so these Alphas were bothered because his former teammate was sulking?

That couldn’t be it, could it? Back at Ximi Entertainment he’d been a slacker too—always crashing the dance studio and practice rooms, and serving as a foil for the Royalty to draw fire. Like Chen Yan said, the company had put a series of containment measures on him.

In any case, the precious debut slots were never going to go to him.

After probing for a while and confirming Yuan had no intention of going back, Ying Mingche felt as relieved as after rain clears the sky.

The seats were roomy, but he leaned forward anyway, rubbing Yuan’s hair between his fingers and bringing it to his nose to sniff lightly.

“What did the makeup artist spray on you?” Ying Mingche said. “It smells awful.”

As a perfume it wasn’t unpleasant. But Ying Mingche felt an inexplicable disgust, as if what clung to Yuan wasn’t perfume at all but the scent of another male’s marking.

It was very uncomfortable.

It was the scent of Su Luochen’s pheromone.

Yuan suspected Su Luochen had extracted his pheromones, turned them into a perfume, and perversely sprayed it on him. It gave him the illusion that from head to toe he was saturated with another Alpha’s pheromones.

A strange sensation.

Seeing that Yuan disliked it, Ying Mingche offered, “Want me to cover it with my pheromones? Mine smell nice…”

Yuan: “Do you remember what I said last time?”

Of course he did—Yuan didn’t like others applying pheromones to him without permission.

Ying Mingche immediately stopped the attempt to lay down his scent.

“All right.” Ying Mingche whined, “Then I’ll give you my coat—put it over you?”

He settled for the next best thing.

Yuan didn’t refuse.

When Ying Mingche’s coat draped over him, the odd feeling grew stronger.

The van was comfortable and spacious, but still an enclosed space. Even though the Alphas had all put up pheromone barriers, S-rank dominance still seeped in everywhere.

As an S-rank, Yuan Shiyuan had sharpened senses—now he could more clearly pick up the alphas’ scents around him. It was like…

He carried the smell of other alphas on him, and not just one.

The coat draped over him suddenly felt scorching; an inexplicable alertness and unease crawled up his spine, making him feel very unsafe.

There was no obvious reason for the feeling.

They were all alphas, all the same sex. Outside of the susceptible period, it was common for good friends to share a bed, let alone just sitting together in a car with no physical intimacy.

What was he on guard against?

They were all alphas—could they actually take him down?

Just as Yuan Shiyuan was about to shrug off Ying Mingche’s coat, a different, indescribable hunger surged up…

Different pheromones, faintly coming from different alphas, wove together—distinct scents interlacing to form a strange layering. Perhaps because S-rank pheromones are denser, they smelled even more intense.

Yuan Shiyuan thought: he was actually hungry.

Maybe he hadn’t eaten enough lunch, and his nap had been interrupted, leaving him dazed enough to mistake alpha pheromones for something “pleasant.”

“All right, everyone get out.”

Yuan Shiyuan looked at the hospital building outside the window, puzzled. “Why are we at a hospital?”

“There are so many pheromones in the car, it’s like a biochemical weapon! I seriously suspect your susceptible periods are about to start—perfect time for a group checkup,” Zhuang He said. “We’ve got schedules coming up; we can’t let susceptible periods mess things up.”

Yuan Shiyuan sniffed; the car did smell mixed. No wonder even the usually talkative Ying Mingche had been silent—he was probably nauseated by the other alphas’ pheromones.

But Yuan didn’t mind it at all.

“Brother Zhuang, your pheromones are in the car too,” Jiang Heng said.

Zhuang He cleared his throat. “I’ll get checked while I’m at it. I don’t know why—my susceptible period seems to have been forced earlier, but mine only just ended a few days ago…”

Having susceptible periods too often wasn’t good.

Zhuang He’s cycle was usually stable; this was the first time it had advanced without warning. He was an A-rank and had received several inhibitor injections in the car.

The other S-ranks were having a harder time—an S-rank’s susceptible period wasn’t something to joke about.

Zhuang He had noticed in the car that Pei Yanbing and the others were breathing rapidly, feigning sleep to steady themselves. All alphas knew what that meant.

“Shiyuan, why aren’t you reacting at all?” Zhuang asked, surprised.

Yuan Shiyuan had been sleeping soundly on the ride. “I’m not very sensitive to pheromones,” he said.

Zhuang He, knowing Yuan was younger, soothed him a bit: “That’s not a big problem.”

Compared with the other members, Yuan’s insensitivity to pheromones really wasn’t a major issue.

Zhuang He felt a headache thinking about the others—so many rare conditions, and they all hit these few S-ranks. Yet they still ended up forming a group.

Yuan Shiyuan was, among Scepter, the only S-rank alpha who was normal.

Starry Night Entertainment was flush with cash; they covered all the medical tests, even adding some unconventional screenings.

When Yuan Shiyuan entered the exam room, it was the same doctor as last time.

The doctor’s expression was as grave as before. Yuan asked, “Still hormone irregularities?”

“No.” The doctor recognized the pink-haired alpha at a glance. “How to put it…your blood test this time is a bit different from last time.”

“Something extra showed up, but it’s uncertain. We need to run further tests.”

“How long until the results?”

“Within 24 hours.”

Yuan Shiyuan went back to the dorm, took a shower, and checked the hospital test results online.

Both reports showed [Testing…].

He closed the page, about to take another nap, when he received a message from Gu Liufeng, the owner of the music bar: Why haven’t you updated your account for so long? Your fans have been pestering me about it.

When Gu Liufeng did promotional work for the music bar’s account, Yuan had registered one as well.

He usually posted singing videos or little songs he wrote on the spur of the moment.

He had a decent number of followers, but he didn’t like to work the platform—only a few people knew of him, so he was a fairly niche creator.

He hadn’t logged into that account in a long time. When he opened it now, there were dozens of likes and comments. One person had persistently commented on every post, all with nearly identical content asking him to check their direct messages.

Bored, he opened the DMs.

yy: Can I buy this score?

yy: I’ll pay anything, I’ll take it.

yy: Please reply, my contact is 1xxx…

Another person wanting to buy a score.

Since he created the account, plenty of people had tried to buy the songs he wrote, even just drafts.

Even a short melody scribbled casually was his precious work. He couldn’t bear to sell it.

Yuan Shiyuan closed the chat without replying, sat on his dorm bed with no recording equipment—just wired earphones—and recorded on his phone.

Record, upload, post; the whole process took no more than two minutes.

The moment the video went live, netizens flooded the comments.

— My treasure, you finally updated!! [crying with joy]

— What audio interface does the blogger use?

— y doesn’t use an interface, and he never does autotune.

— Incredible… such a clean voice, I thought it was processed.

— That timbre must be a gift from heaven.

— y’s voice is truly unbeatable; all these years I still haven’t found a substitute… I’m crying. If y only updated a bit more often, his followers would multiply.

Yuan Shiyuan’s timbre was distinctive—pure yet penetrating, naturally carrying a mixed, produced sound.

He logged off right after posting. The account felt more like a diary where he recorded his inspirations.

When Yuan took off his earphones, Bo Jin happened to return to the dorm.

Yuan sniffed. “Did you smoke?”

“Obviously?” Bo Jin, seeing him sniffing upward, explained, “I only smoke occasionally.”

For some reason, he was particularly restless today; he attributed it to his mania. Mania made his emotions unstable, and smoking felt like his medicine.

Bo Jin: “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“No need.” Yuan waved it off. “I’m not kissing you.”

“…”

Bo Jin still brushed his teeth.

Coming out of the bathroom, Bo Jin dragged a chair over and, to Yuan’s puzzled look, sat directly across from him.

“You lied when you said you and Su Luochen only had a disagreement,” he said seriously. “We’re roommates; we should be honest with each other.”

Yuan was stunned.

Is there now such a high standard for roommates? Honest with each other?

“You’re very sure Su Luochen won’t make trouble for you, which means you used to be on good terms—at least fairly close,” Bo Jin guessed. “But he did something that wronged you, and you have leverage on him.”

Yuan Shiyuan: “Impressive.”

Bo’s guess was eight or nine parts right.

“We really were close before,” Yuan admitted readily. “We used to rehearse dance together and hang out.”

Bo Jin keenly picked up the keyword: “we.” Those four little crown princes from Ximi Entertainment had probably all at one time been friendly with Yuan Shiyuan.

He wasn’t surprised at all.

Yuan Shiyuan had a good personality, a good face, and a natural affability that drew people in.

Nobody disliked making friends with someone like that.

“The trainees at Ximi Entertainment were ranked. I was at the bottom. After spending time with them, I realized they didn’t treat me like a friend,” Yuan said, then paused before adding, “After that, I kept encountering…some strange things in my dorm.”

“Strange things?”

“During that period my stuff kept getting stolen.”

First it was the towels I used to wash my face and body, then my clothes.

As Yuan said this, his brow pinched slightly, as if trying not to be sick, and he went on, “One day I finished class early and went back to the dorm, and there was an Alpha sitting on my bed. I didn’t know him, but from the color of his clothes you could tell he was a trainee like me, low-ranked…”

Seeing Yuan’s expression—hard to describe—Bo Jin could guess what the guy had been doing.

But he’d never seen Yuan like this before: disgust, shock, incomprehension, mingled with a kind of dazedness, like a cat stretching only to have its belly unexpectedly touched.

Maybe this was an inherent ugly trait of some Alphas; Bo Jin tried to look for a cuter expression. He asked, “What was he doing?”

Yuan Shiyuan: “He was sitting on my bed, aggressively attacking my socks—he wore my socks down with holes! He didn’t notice me come in, then buried his face in my underwear…”

“Disgusting A-guy, filthy, gross, a pervert!”

Seeing Bo Jin’s face, Yuan asked, “What’s wrong?”

Bo Jin instinctively glanced at Yuan’s feet: soft white socks bunched in layers, wrapping slender bony ankles, legs above with a balanced mix of flesh and bone.

Yuan’s legs were very nice.

“Nothing much,” Bo Jin averted his gaze. “Just a bit too detailed.”

“Ah, sorry.” Yuan had forgotten Bo Jin was a straight man who disliked such topics and immediately stopped himself, “Then I won’t say more.”

“No, keep going.” Bo Jin adjusted his seat. “You can be more detailed.”

“We’re roommates; we shouldn’t hide things from each other.”

Only then did Yuan continue: “He seemed really scared when he saw me—probably afraid I’d spill this. Later he confessed that Su Luochen had told him to do it.”

Bo Jin pondered.

Su Luochen had directed other Alphas to Yuan’s bed…? Considering Su Luochen’s crazy behavior today, he wasn’t really surprised.

Still, Bo Jin felt something was off. That subtle feeling flashed through him but he couldn’t grasp it.

The scene that day had been so shocking it left a heavy psychological mark on a straight man. Yuan shivered, “I still get goosebumps thinking about it. That Alpha was like he was losing his mind—kneeling at my feet saying sorry, then, like he had split personalities, saying my bed was soft and smelled nice, that it all smelled like me…”

“He’s crazy,” Bo Jin said.

Bo Jin had also been harassed by Alphas before, so he understood. Yuan added, “You went through it too, so you should get it.”

Bo Jin really was someone who’d been through it.

He had also lain on Yuan’s bed—it was indeed soft and fragrant, all from Yuan. That puzzled him a lot, since the bedding and toiletries were supposed to be standardized.

“I get it,” Bo Jin said.

Sure enough, some things were best shared with a bona fide straight man. Yuan, finding a kindred spirit, hooked his arm around Bo Jin’s neck: “I knew it—you’d definitely understand me.”

At first, Yuan Shiyuan’s relationship with Yue Xiao and the others had indeed been warm.

When Chen Yan placed him in the senior trainees’ dorm, they were momentarily startled on first seeing him—apparently surprised that he could live there—but they didn’t pry. The one who became closest to him first, the clingiest, was Nan Liujing, and it was through Nan Liujing that he gradually grew acquainted with the others.

Sometime later, for reasons unknown, Nan Liujing began inexplicably to avoid him, eyes flicking away whenever they met. At first he didn’t pay it much mind, until the strange incidents happened one after another.

His clothes kept disappearing; garments hung out on the balcony would inexplicably pick up unfamiliar pheromones…

During that period Yuan Shiyuan was swamped with coursework and had no energy to deal with it, so he seldom returned to the company dorm. One day he came back to the company early and happened to stumble on that scene—this was the first time he caught someone red-handed.

The Alpha sobbed, insisting it was his first time doing anything like that, that he had acted on impulse, and claimed Su Luochen had ordered him to do it. He spat venom at Su Luochen and his friends, calling none of them decent people.

Yuan Shiyuan didn’t take it at face value. He took Su Luochen’s keycard and walked straight into the room. Through the balcony glass door, half-hidden by the curtain, he saw two tall figures.

Nan Liujing and Su Luochen were engrossed in conversation, not even noticing the extra person in the room.

As Yuan Shiyuan approached, he heard Su Luochen ask, “You like Yuan Shiyuan, right?”

Through the half-drawn curtain and glass, Yuan saw Nan Liujing’s neck flush a deep red; his expression was indescribably conflicted.

“Me? How could that be… How would I like him?”

Su Luochen gave a strange, soft laugh. “Funny, I don’t like him either.”

After a moment he emphasized each syllable, “Ve—ry—much—do—n’t—like—him.”

“…”

Putting all the pieces together, Yuan Shiyuan understood in an instant and did not press further. It was final exams season, so he asked Chen Yan for a long leave under the pretext of studying, cutting off contact with the company entirely.

Faced with Nan Liujing’s barrage of messages, he simply set him to Do Not Disturb, then logged out of the work WeChat and switched to his personal account.

That was Yuan Shiyuan: when he considered someone a friend, he could tolerate all their faults. Once he discovered a person’s insincerity, he would withdraw immediately.

If he didn’t care about someone, that person became nothing to him.

Besides, Nan Liujing and the others were, to him, only slightly closer than ordinary colleagues. He never lacked friends, nor people who wanted to befriend him.

If he wanted, countless followers would stand behind him at any time.

Yuan Shiyuan rarely spoke about his past, but Bo Jin insisted on asking. Unexpectedly, after tonight, Yuan vaguely felt the two of them had drawn somewhat closer.

After Yuan Shiyuan finished sharing his harassment experience, Bo Jin’s appetite for gossip flared. He shifted the topic to Bo Jin: “Your turn, right?”

“You have to tell me your secret too. Good buddies don’t hide things from each other—you said that.”

The dorm fell into an eerie silence.

After a moment, Bo Jin spoke slowly, “My parents don’t like me, because I’m a defective product of the family.”

Yuan Shiyuan was stunned.

Not buddies—he only wanted to hear the juicy story about a homophobic straight man being harassed, not family grievances, childhood traumas, or wealthy household secrets!

But Bo Jin had opened the subject: “Our family has a hereditary genetic defect—our pheromones are unstable and aggressive. They can easily drive people into a manic state and cause harm to people and things around them. In my generation the defect is especially pronounced. I was treated abroad for many years and it never improved.”

“Later, when my mother was pregnant, they decided to abandon me.”

“Unfortunately she didn’t make it to that day—there was a house fire, and I was the only one who survived.”

Viewed as an unwanted child by his parents, narrowly escaping death in a fire, and his pheromones smelling of smoke… words felt too powerless; Yuan Shiyuan chose to comfort him with his body.

He pulled Bo Jin into his arms face to face. “Come on, bro—give me a hug.”

Bo Jin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

If Yuan Shiyuan had said something sentimental, Bo Jin might have felt awkward and not known how to respond—nobody had taught him how to answer kindness. A simple hug, however, spoke louder than a thousand words.

Bo Jin slipped into a different kind of panic.

Because of his pheromone mania, he had lived alone his whole life; his doctors and servants feared his pheromonal attacks. He had no friends and didn’t know how to respond in this intimate moment.

Yuan Shiyuan’s arms slid around his waist, palms patting his back in slow, measured beats—gentle and soft, just like Yuan himself.

Bo Jin hesitated for two or three seconds, then reached back and returned the embrace. Pheromones flared as if set ablaze, secretions spiraling out of control.

His whole body tensed, and he found himself staring blankly, suddenly aware—

What a slender waist.

A hunger that had lasted so long was instantly swept away; an inexplicable surge of satisfaction flooded Yuan Shiyuan, as if his body were being filled by the heat of Bo Jin’s pheromones.

Warm, burning, exquisitely comforting.

“I can’t help cure your illness, but when you’re with me, you can release your pheromones freely. I don’t dislike them, and they won’t make me uncomfortable,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “Besides, I really like the way your pheromones smell.”

Bo Jin froze; his expression quickly turned awkward. He turned his head away, his ear flushing red.

Did Yuan Shiyuan just say what he thought he heard?

Yuan Shiyuan said he liked his pheromones…

How could that be? His pheromones smelled so unpleasant.

Most people might find them choking, but Yuan genuinely liked them. Bo Jin’s scent was like embers smoldering in a stove—warm with a hint of smoke.

When he was little, Yuan’s family had gone back to their ancestral home for the New Year. He and his younger brother would warm themselves by the stove while tending the fire. Sparks popped inside the earthen hearth as he fanned with a small palm-leaf fan, cheeks flushed and sweating from the work.

At that moment his grandmother would praise his strength and, smiling, set a cup of freshly boiled sweet soy milk on the small side table.

The warm, faintly ashy scent of wood smoke somehow overlapped with Bo Jin’s pheromones.

A comforting warmth spread through Yuan Shiyuan, like soaking in a hot bath; he felt so comfortable his eyelashes fluttered.

“Let it out more!” He was delighted by the smell. “Don’t hold back.”

Bo Jin couldn’t believe his ears. “Do you even know what this means for an Alpha?”

Urging an Alpha to release pheromones and then praising how they smell… wasn’t that the same as ordering Bo Jin to drop his pants and then complimenting his groin?

“It means I get to smell them.” Yuan Shiyuan looked puzzled. “Why are you being so stingy? I’m smelling what your glands put out, not your crotch.”

“If you want to smell mine, I can let you—anywhere you like.” After all, it didn’t smell of anything.

“…”

“You have what I have. What are you afraid of?”

“………”

“I’m not that kind of casual Alpha.” Bo Jin ground out through clenched teeth. “What do you take me for?”

Even though he suffered from pheromone mania, that didn’t mean he’d let people smell his pheromones at will—this implied a sexual advance, far too frivolous.

Moreover, it was a same-sex attraction—liking his pheromones as a man.

“Friends,” Yuan Shiyuan purred, a thrill running down his coccyx and the back of his neck as he hummed, urging, “Good brother, really, let it out a little more.”

“Your pheromones smell so good.”

Yuan Shiyuan felt the scent growing almost too strong, like he couldn’t quite take anymore, and yet greedy for more.

Bo Jin could no longer bear it. “Don’t say that!”

How could Yuan Shiyuan casually praise someone’s pheromones like that? Did Yuan even know what it meant?

Bo Jin’s emotions surged; his ears were already flushed, and his gaze fell softly on the pink-haired Alpha cuddled against him.

What a frivolous Alpha.

Who knew how many people he’d said that to.

Bo Jin’s feelings were complicated. He stiffened his face and increased his pheromone output. He watched Yuan Shiyuan, who was snuggled in his arms, the skin of his cheeks flushed a delicate pink, tears pooling at the outer corners of his eyes.

He looked a little infatuated.

It was the first time someone had said his pheromones smelled good, the first time someone hadn’t recoiled from them. They didn’t look at him like a monster; they looked at him like a normal person.

By the time Bo Jin realized it, Yuan Shiyuan had already fallen asleep. His fingers remained slightly curled, then trembled and relaxed. Tears rimmed his eyes; his lashes were damp.

What the hell…

Say my pheromones smell good, then, after smelling them, not even say goodbye—just go straight to sleep. Use me up and toss me aside, deny me.

Bo Jin’s face darkened as he gently laid Yuan Shiyuan back on the bedding.

It was then he became aware of his own abnormality.

What the hell was he doing? Yuan Shiyuan asked him to release pheromones, and he complied? Why was he listening to Yuan Shiyuan’s request?

Did Yuan Shiyuan really think he had such a good temper? Say a few nice things and act cute, and he’d wag his tail and be a good dog?

Bo Jin loathed the current social tendency. Why were Alphas expected to tolerate Omegas unconditionally and without limits? Did Alphas have no rights?

He had sworn he would never stoop low for an Omega, and he certainly wouldn’t obediently follow one like a dog.

It felt as if he’d broken that vow—and hadn’t they gotten a little too close? Cuddling like this and sniffing each other’s pheromones…

How was this different from grinding nunchaku together? (literal image:互磨双节棍—literally “rubbing twin-section sticks together,” a crude metaphor for intimate rubbing)

Soon, Bo Jin persuaded himself.

They weren’t A-O; they were just close brothers swapping secrets and pouring out their hearts. In a moment of intense feeling, passion briefly took over and they hugged to lick each other’s wounds.

As for the vow—he hadn’t really betrayed it.

He had only promised not to be a servant for an Omega, but Yuan Shiyuan was an Alpha.

Alphas didn’t count.

–

S-rank Alpha pheromones really were incredibly restorative.

The next morning Yuan Shiyuan looked refreshed. His complexion rosy, he pushed open the office door and joined the other teammates.

“You look great today,” Zhuang He said. “Sleep well last night?”

Yuan Shiyuan nodded.

The other S-rank Alphas, however, inexplicably suffered insomnia.

Restless, uneasy, hearts pounding. They had a vague sense that something was slipping out of their control, and they hated that feeling of losing control.

Fortunately, S-rank Alphas had extraordinary physical constitutions—pulling an all-nighter wasn’t a big deal.

“I booked you a sponsorship with an indie jewelry brand aimed at younger customers—you should know the label ‘UN.’ Originally we were scheduled to shoot the commercial and posters this afternoon,” Zhuang He said, “but their camera equipment suddenly malfunctioned.”

“There’s also some other bookings; you can all take a look together. If you have ideas, feel free to talk to me.”

Zhuang He valued quality over quantity when it came to gigs—he wouldn’t take shitty offers even if they paid well.

He protected Scepter’s reputation carefully.

The Alphas flipped through the notices the assistant had organized.

Assistant Xiao Huang suddenly said angrily, “Countercurrent’s official account already posted a preview — next issue’s weekly spread is Erci shooting Necro!”

“Damn! No wonder Countercurrent ghosted us suddenly. Turns out they saw Necro getting popular, so they cancelled on us last minute!”

Xiao Huang grew more worked up as he spoke. “Netizens are mocking us for popping champagne halfway through…”

He was referring to their live stream where they documented the schedule and bookings.

Zhuang He waved his hand. “That rag Countercurrent—what champagne are they talking about? Let’s not give them free credit. We’re just documenting normal team life, okay? Ignore the chatter; it’s none of our concern.”

Yuan Shiyuan, curled up on the sofa looking through the notices, suddenly stopped on one page and stared at it for a long time.

Seeing his interest, Zhuang He said, “Like this one? daystar used to be pretty popular, but it’s fallen off over the years. I heard the company is facing bankruptcy trouble.”

Yuan Shiyuan: “Their work has a distinct style, and they wrote a detailed shooting plan for us.”

There were all sorts of hand-drawn sketches, mockups, and written notes — you could tell they had put a lot of care into it.

daystar’s founders had been college friends; their early shoots once caused quite a stir online, but they faded from the public eye as they ran out of steam.

Zhuang He acknowledged their talent, but in this industry passion and skill alone weren’t enough. If you didn’t know how to manage publicity and commercial operations, the market would eventually drop you.

Even though Scepter’s popularity was currently low and they were a middling group, they were backed by Starry Night Entertainment; collaborating with daystar seemed impossible.

Yuan Shiyuan placed the UN video next to daystar’s mockups, and the visuals surprisingly meshed well.

“UN Accessories and their shooting concept match really well, and isn’t UN’s equipment the exact thing that broke down?” Zhuang He had a sudden thought: if they could broker a collaboration between UN and daystar, they’d save on set construction and help daystar stage a comeback. Most importantly, Countercurrent’s canceled issue was scheduled to publish on Saturday.

If they could get daystar to publish on Saturday, it would directly conflict with Necro’s issue in Countercurrent.

This was a prime chance to strike back with pride.

“Wait here, I’ll talk to both sides,” he said. “If UN is willing to work with daystar, we can also save on set costs and concept work. daystar might even be revived…”

“We have only one condition: the publication date must be Saturday.”

Saturday — the same day Countercurrent was releasing their issue.

“We’re going head-to-head!” Xiao Huang excitedly rubbed his hands together.

Necro had grabbed the magazine shoot from Scepter, and now Scepter was finding another partner — and they’d pick the same release day as Countercurrent’s Necro spread. What looked like a scheduling coincidence would actually be an open sales showdown between the two boy groups.

Just imagining it got everyone’s blood pumping.

“But…will they agree?”

“They agreed!”

“But only if Scepter insists on partnering with UN Accessories. I’ve seen UN’s jewelry designs — they fit our theme really well. UN is enthusiastic about this too… Starry Night and UN are willing to fully cooperate, as long as we can release before Saturday!”

Saturday?! Wouldn’t that be too tight? Zhou Heng took a deep breath and, putting everything on the line, said, “Alright, let’s gamble on it!”

One last time, hold on for one last time…

Zhou Heng gave a bitter smile. “If we fail this time, daystar will really be finished.”

They were no longer the innocent, idealistic students from campus—passion and love alone couldn’t keep you alive in a ruthless world.

Dreams ultimately had to yield to reality.

Luo Yan shook her head, speaking with certainty: “This will absolutely be fine. Every Scepter member has excellent looks, especially the new member… I’ve seen him in person.”

“In what way?”

Luo Yan’s younger sister went to the same school as Yuan Shiyuan. When she took her sister back to campus, the basketball court had been swarmed; among the mixed ABO crowd, a flash of pink drew his gaze like a magnet.

Amid the roar of voices, she could only notice Yuan Shiyuan. Although it was overcast, when Yuan Shiyuan dribbled and ran on the court he seemed to carry his own spotlight, rendering the surrounding scene as a blurred background.

Even just recalling him made one’s heart stir. Luo Yan said, “You’ll know it when you see him.”

The sound of a car engine came from outside the studio window; they looked over. A pink-haired Alpha stepped out laughing as he chatted with the people beside him.

Zhou Heng, who had been restless, froze at the sight of that pink figure, then suddenly sat up straight!

Yuan Shiyuan followed his team inside: “Hello, I’m Yuan Shiyuan from Scepter.”

The remaining Alphas from Scepter introduced themselves one by one.

Zhou Heng, however, started to stammer; his gaze kept shifting, he didn’t even dare look Yuan Shiyuan in the eye, and his honest face flushed bright red.

Luo Yan helplessly pressed a hand to her forehead. Zhou Heng had a bit of a shut-in streak and social anxiety. She stepped forward on her own: “Hi, I’m daystar’s planner. The set is already built—would you like to go have a look?”

After saying that, she nervously glanced toward the UN representatives.

Although UN was a small brand, it was very well known and popular among teenagers. Working with UN was something they had hardly dared to imagine.

“Zhuang and I will go first,” said a female Alpha who had arrived. “Some details might need adjusting; we’ll iron them out on site. Shall the artists go change their jewelry and clothes first?”

“We’ve seen your plan—it’s written really well. If there’s a chance, we could work together long-term.”

An assistant led Yuan Shiyuan and the others to the backstage dressing room. The female Alpha from UN turned and patted the Omega beside her on the shoulder, giving him an encouraging look.

The Omega was her younger brother, and also a fan of Yuan Shiyuan.

After taking the signal from his sister, Song Mian nodded very lightly and hurried after them.

“Shiyuan-ge!” When he saw the pink-haired Alpha turn his head, Song Mian froze. His fingers curled as he nervously twisted at his hem, yet he still mustered the courage to say, “Aren’t you hot? I’ll go buy you some water…”

Yuan Shiyuan didn’t know Song Mian was the UN head’s younger brother; he assumed Song Mian was a little assistant from UN. Song Mian was extremely gentle-looking, exuding the soft temperament of an Omega.

“No need.” Yuan Shiyuan thought for a moment and said, “Wait for me here.”

When he returned, Yuan Shiyuan had a plastic bag in hand. He handed over a bottle of water, a small fan, and a sun hat: “It’s a bit hot here—don’t get heatstroke.”

Hot? Why would he feel hot? Song Mian took them dazedly: “I—I… I guess I am a bit hot.”

Yuan Shiyuan turned and caught the eyes of the five Alphas. They, in tacit agreement, were all holding bottles of chilled mineral water—probably just fetched from their assistants.

Bo Jin crossed his arms and stood off to one side, forcing a fake smile. “You sure dote on the delicate type.”

Yuan Shiyuan: “After all, he’s an Omega—he needs to be cared for. There’s no reason for an Omega to be bringing me water.”

Bo Jin couldn’t laugh anymore.

How could Yuan Shiyuan do that? Last night when Yuan Shiyuan wanted to smell pheromones, he didn’t hesitate—he released them all night and was completely drained! He hadn’t gotten a thing out of it, and now he had to watch Yuan Shiyuan hand water to another Omega.

They were supposed to be roommates.

Ying Mingche protested, “You coddle him? What exactly is your relationship?”

Ying Mingxi spoke gently, “Alright, everyone, don’t quarrel. Let’s go inside—it’s cooler in there.”

He twisted off the cap and handed the water bottle to Yuan Shiyuan. “Want some water?”

Compared to Ying Mingche’s unreasonable fussing, Ying Mingxi was the more gentle one.

Yuan Shiyuan didn’t refuse Ying Mingxi’s kindness. “Thanks, Mingxi-ge.”

Ying Mingche watched Yuan Shiyuan walk into the dressing room, and unconsciously licked his canine.

Since when had his brother been so close to Yuan Shiyuan?

And earlier, he had inexplicably felt pleasure radiating from Ying Mingxi. At the time he was in the car, like a dog struck by a whip—completely stunned.

He later asked Xiao Huang and learned Ying Mingxi and Yuan Shiyuan had come back together.

What sweet moment between them had he missed?

Ying Mingche hated other people competing with him, yet competition excited him as an Alpha—he liked grabbing things away from others.

This involved his own brother, so his mood soured.

The instant the dressing-room curtain opened, Ying Mingche’s pupils suddenly dilated.

This shoot’s background was very floral; to highlight the jewelry, their clothes were actually very simple. The outfits for Ying Mingche and the others differed only in minor details, but Yuan Shiyuan’s costume was worlds apart.

Yuan Shiyuan stood in backlight; the sleeveless vest traced his slim frame with exquisite softness. Hand-knitted flowers draped from his shoulders; a lace bow and a cinched design at the waist made his silhouette appear impossibly slender.

Yuan Shiyuan lifted his eyes slightly—long lashes fluttered, the ear hidden beneath pink hair had a faint blush. As he moved, the knitted flower strap slid down his shoulder, a small patch of skin catching the light like mother-of-pearl.

“Why is my outfit completely different from yours?”

Yuan Shiyuan’s voice carried puzzlement yet brushed the air like a soft feather. Standing among so many S-rank Alphas, his difference in build and complexion was striking.

“…”

The makeup room fell into an awkward silence.

These clothes were provided by the UN brand—everyone began to suspect the brand might have ulterior motives in dressing Yuan Shiyuan like this.

The other members wore normal outfits; Yuan Shiyuan looked like a freshly baked cake, fluffy and soft.

Ying Mingche followed the sound and stepped forward. “Why so thin?”

Bo Jin didn’t even need to look to know Ying Mingche meant Yuan Shiyuan’s waist.

Ying Mingche looped an arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s waist, the other hand resting on his shoulder. The large palm shifted slightly and covered the rounded shoulder, idly stroking it.

Jiang Heng couldn’t stand it. “Can you stop groping him all the time?”

Pei Yanbing didn’t speak, but his cold features tightened slightly—he was clearly displeased by the behavior.

Ying Mingche didn’t pull back; instead he pressed his chin heavily into Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder hollow. “I like it.”

Jiang Heng said coldly, “You’re starting to look like a pervert.”

Yuan Shiyuan laughed and patted Ying Mingche’s cheek. “Hear that? Pervert.”

“…”

That gesture ought to have furious an Alpha, but Ying Mingche, like a tamed beast, narrowed his eyes and wore an expression that was almost blissful—yet still not satisfied.

It felt good, but not enough.

Ying Mingche bumped his face against Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder hollow, taking advantage of the moment and then playing coy. He feigned injury and said, “You’re hitting me? You’re so nice to my brother—that’s not fair.”

“Mingxi ge has always been kind, very gentle,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “You’re the pervert.”

“You think my brother is gentle?” Ying Mingche laughed at that—he considered it the funniest thing he’d heard. “My brother’s way more perverted than me. You’ll see when you get the chance.”

He paused, then added with meaning, “But you won’t want to know.”

Leaning against Yuan Shiyuan from behind, Ying Mingche let most of his breath fall on Yuan Shiyuan’s gland. Even with a barrier between them, the warmth of that breath made Yuan Shiyuan tremble slightly.

Why had he been getting more sensitive lately?

Yuan Shiyuan turned his head in puzzlement—and unexpectedly noticed Ying Mingche’s new look. “You have an eyebrow stud and a lip stud? Why didn’t you wear them before?”

“Before, we had to go on shows. They said it would set a bad example for young people, so I couldn’t wear them,” Ying Mingche said. “I just reconnected them.”

Yuan Shiyuan: “Pretty bold.”

Ying Mingche raised an eyebrow, looped one arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, and turned his face toward him. He lowered his head, parted his lips, and stuck out his tongue to show Yuan Shiyuan the irregular stud in the center of his tongue.

“I’ve got something even bolder.”

Yuan Shiyuan’s first reaction was, “That must hurt?”

Hurt? It actually felt pretty good. Ying Mingche said, “It does hurt. If you touch it, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Yuan Shiyuan: “Have you no shame?”

“You’re so gentle with my brother and so rough with me,” Ying Mingche said softly. “Why don’t you be a little nice to me sometimes?”

“Fine, I’ll make you feel good today.”

Yuan Shiyuan grabbed a bottle of mineral water, opened the cap, and held it up to Ying Mingche’s lips.

“Open your mouth. I’ll feed you.”

Ying Mingche froze for a moment. He stared at the gleam of water at the bottle’s mouth and suddenly felt his whole body heat up. This was water Yuan Shiyuan had already drunk from; the thought alone sent shivers across his scalp.

He obediently bowed his head and opened his mouth to receive it.

But Yuan Shiyuan suddenly stepped back, held the bottle out of reach, and teased it side to side like playing with a dog.

Bo Jin scoffed at how readily Ying Mingche approached, like a little lapdog. “Ying Mingche, have you never drunk water before in your life?”

Ying Mingche ignored Bo Jin. He grabbed Yuan Shiyuan’s hand in displeasure, determined to taste his water.

Unexpectedly, Yuan Shiyuan twisted his wrist, pressed the cool bottle against Ying Mingche’s face, then, having played his prank, turned and ran.

“Yuan Shiyuan!”

Chasing voices grew louder in the dressing room. With limited space, Yuan Shiyuan was quickly caught. Ying Mingche grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him up onto a table.

The forced position—snow-white legs spread and a disproportionate frame—made every Alpha present glance over.

“I was wrong, bro. I shouldn’t have iced you,” Yuan Shiyuan immediately pleaded. “Brother, Mingche ge.”

“Spare me.”

“Too late.” Ying Mingche revealed sharp canine teeth.

Yuan Shiyuan had been playful and now realized he’d pushed it too far. Seizing a chance, he flipped and tried to crawl to the other side.

But just as he raised one leg, the other calf was suddenly grabbed, and his ankle was hauled back.

“Don’t move.”

Ying Mingche held Yuan Shiyuan’s ankle with one hand and pressed his other hand on Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, his fingers sliding almost under the strap.

“Your knee’s injured.” He tilted his head and asked, “Do you have a bandage?”

“Bro, do you have one?”

Ying Mingxi: “I do, I’ll look for it.”

While Ying Mingxi searched for a bandage, Yuan Shiyuan stared at the scraped skin on his knee, both speechless and amused.

If they’d waited any longer, the wound would have already started healing.

Yuan Shiyuan’s ankle was still gripped in that large palm; he couldn’t go anywhere, so he took out his phone to pass the time.

He habitually opened the hospital portal, and one of the test report statuses showed [Completed].

The earlier sections were dense with technical terms. Yuan Shiyuan scrolled to the end and read the final summary:

The test results clearly indicated that the body fluids may contain a special component that attracts Alphas, with a certain probability of causing Alpha addiction; in extreme cases it can forcibly trigger an Alpha’s susceptible period…

Addiction? Attract Alphas?

His body fluids?

What a joke.

“Found it.”

Ying Mingxi returned with the bandage. He gently took hold of Yuan Shiyuan’s bent knee, but when he saw a spot of fresh blood on the surface, he momentarily froze.

He stared at the wound, his gaze wavering between confusion and losing control.

The next second, to everyone’s astonishment, he slowly dropped to one knee and— in an almost submissive posture—pressed his face against the lower leg dangling over the edge of the table.

Yuan Shiyuan was so shocked he lifted his knee to kick Ying Mingxi in the chest, but at that instant he felt his ankle clamp down sharply. Turning his head, he saw a face identical to Ying Mingxi’s, expression the same—struggling, dazed, and fanatical.

And the other Alphas were stepping toward him, one by one.

Yuan Shiyuan staggered backward, watching them close in.

His back hit the cold wall.

Five shadows descended at once. Yuan Shiyuan could clearly see the surging dark currents in their eyes, harboring something deeper and more dangerous…