Night, villa.
When Sikong Sui followed Sikong Nian into the study, she thought it would be about Suppressants or the training period.
The study was softly lit. Sikong Nian had taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, wearing only a light gray thin shirt.
He poured two glasses of water, pushing one toward Sikong Sui and holding the other himself as he leaned against the edge of the desk.
His posture seemed casual, but Sikong Sui noticed something off about his expression.
Too serious.
“Suisui,” he began.
“Hmm?”
Sikong Nian fell silent for a few seconds, as if carefully choosing his words.
The light fell on his face, illuminating his handsome features with exceptional clarity.
“Do you like Xie Ren?” he asked.
Sikong Sui was taken aback.
Her hand holding the glass froze mid-air, the reflection on the water’s surface trembling slightly, mirroring her own stunned expression.
The question had come too suddenly—so suddenly that she was completely unprepared.
Sikong Sui set down the glass and lowered her head, gazing at her own blurred reflection in the water.
“I do.”
She looked up, meeting Sikong Nian’s eyes. Her voice was soft but clear.
Sikong Nian’s expression remained unchanged.
“Suisui, you’re still young. You don’t know what liking someone really means.”
Sikong Sui’s lips parted slightly, ready to argue, but Sikong Nian didn’t give her the chance.
“You’ve never seen Xie Ren when he’s on a mission, killing.”
“You’d be terrified.”
Sikong Sui fell silent.
She had read the descriptions of Xie Ren in the original novel, and those words now surged through her mind.
Wherever the “Blood Rose” went, no one was left alive.
His methods were clean and efficient, swift as the wind. His targets lost consciousness before they could even feel the pain.
But clean and efficient didn’t mean it wasn’t cruel. On the contrary, that kind of precise, almost artistic way of killing carried a chilling cold-bloodedness.
The name “Bloody Mary” wasn’t given for nothing.
To his enemies, Xie Ren was truly a ruthless killer who showed no mercy.
Legends about him circulated in the dark corners of the empire, each one too bloody to dwell on.
Some said he once single-handedly slaughtered the entire headquarters of a rival organization—forty lives, not a single survivor.
Others said he never wore a mask during missions, not because he wasn’t afraid of being recognized, but because no one who had seen his face lived long enough to speak of it.
Sikong Sui’s fingers unconsciously tightened around the glass.
She knew all this.
She had read it all.
She knew Xie Ren’s hands were stained with blood, knew he was a perfect killing machine honed by the empire’s shadow division.
But she also knew about the needle marks, knew about the “sole survivor,” knew the faint, almost imperceptible smile that touched his lips when he said he was used to it.
These two sides of him weren’t contradictory.
He was an assassin, and he was also a victim.
Sikong Sui looked up at Sikong Nian.
“Where is Xie Ren going for his mission?”
Her eyes brightened. “Can I go with him?”
Sikong Nian’s expression instantly changed.
The gentle, earnest look vanished, replaced by an unyielding seriousness.
His tone hardened like iron. “No.”
Sikong Sui was stunned.
She rarely heard Sikong Nian speak to her in such a tone.
“I gave you a double dose of suppressant to conceal your top-tier Omega identity.”
“The suppressant’s effect weakens at night. Because you’re SSS-grade, there may also be backlash, so you must stay by my side.”
Sikong Sui’s brow furrowed.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something to argue her case, but Sikong Nian’s gaze was too heavy—so heavy it pushed all her words back down her throat.
It was the first time she had seen Sikong Nian act so domineering.
“Alright…” Sikong Sui lowered her head, her voice muffled, like a kitten whose toy had been confiscated.
Sikong Nian’s expression finally softened.
He reached out, his broad palm landing on her head, gently ruffling her hair.
The warmth from his palm passed through her hair to her scalp, carrying a sense of being protected.
“Rest early. I’ll be sleeping right next door.”
Sikong Sui nodded, stood up from the chair, and slowly walked toward the door with her water glass.
“Goodnight, brother.”
“Goodnight, Suisui.”
Sikong Sui pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway.
The night was deep.
She returned to her room, took a shower, changed into her pajamas, and lay on the soft bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Her mind felt like a pot of overcooked porridge.
She had thought too much.
She was too tired.
Then the nightmare came.
There were no images in the dream, only sounds.
It was Xie Ren’s voice, very soft, as if coming from somewhere far, far away.
He was saying something, but she couldn’t make it out. She tried to get closer, but the closer she got, the more indistinct the voice became, as if separated by a thick pane of glass.
Then the voice suddenly cut off, as if someone had choked it off.
She desperately called his name, but no sound came from her throat.
Darkness surged from all directions, engulfing her like a tide—cold and heavy, pressing down until she could hardly breathe.
Sikong Sui’s eyes snapped open.
Her back was drenched in sweat, her pajamas clinging to her skin, damp and cold.
It was her rut period.
Sikong Sui felt her body burning up, her gland aching faintly.
The scent of milk, mixed with jasmine and peach, began to emanate from her.
The primal pheromones of an SSS-grade Omega.
Sweet but not cloying, fresh but not faint, as if someone had bottled the most beautiful essence of spring.
And then shattered it in her room.
Sikong Sui pushed herself up from the edge of the bed, her legs feeling weak.
She walked to the other end of the hallway.
To Xie Ren’s room.
Sikong Sui reached out and lightly knocked twice on the door with her knuckles.
No response.
She knocked twice more.
Still no response.
Her hand rested on the doorknob, and with a gentle turn, she found it unlocked.
She pushed the door open. The room was pitch dark, and no one was in the bed.
The blanket was neatly folded, the wardrobe door stood open, and inside was completely empty.
All those dark clothes, that black trench coat, those boots he often wore—all gone.
Xie Ren had left.
Sikong Sui leaned against the doorframe and slowly slid down to the floor.
Three months.
A full three months without returning.
What about her mission?
Xie Ren’s favorability was only just over 60.
The nightmare had become reality. She was truly done for, unable to return home…
Reason began to crumble. The pheromones of an SSS-grade Omega surged from her like a breached flood.
Milk, jasmine, peach—the three scents intertwined, so intense they almost took on a tangible form.
Her body temperature was rising rapidly, her heartbeat pounding so fast it felt like it might explode.
“Suisui… Suisui…”
Sikong Nian’s voice came from afar, muffled as if through a layer of water.
He didn’t know when he had woken up—probably from catching her pheromones.
When an SSS-level Omega’s pheromones were fully released at night, their concentration and purity were enough to jolt every Alpha within a hundred-meter radius awake from their sleep, unless suppressors were installed.
When Sikong Nian rushed to the end of the hallway, the sight before him made his heart stop for a second.
Sikong Sui was curled up against the doorframe of Xie Ren’s room, hugging her knees, her entire body trembling violently.
He crouched down, reached out to steady her shoulders, and lifted her from the floor.
Her body was frighteningly hot, the scent of her pheromones washing over him—sweet, soft, carrying an irresistible allure.
The veins on Sikong Nian’s forehead bulged violently.
His body reacted faster than his mind.
The pheromones of a top-tier Alpha were instantly drawn out, the scent of cedar and cold iron spreading from him, tangling with her milky jasmine and peach fragrance like two differently colored threads being forcefully twisted into one.
The resonance was too intense—so intense that his fingers began to tremble, his rationality wavering.
So intense that for the first time, he looked at his sister through the eyes of an Alpha.
She leaned against his chest, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.
Her lips were a natural cherry red, unadorned, lush and moist, carrying a sweetness that was impossible to look away from.
Her cheeks were tinged with a faint pink from the high fever, her entire being radiating a soft, fragile aura that made one want to protect and draw closer.
“Brother…”
This was the first time Sikong Nian had found an Omega adorable.
Soft, making one unable to resist drawing near.
Were all Omegas as adorable as Suisui?
Of course not.
Sikong Nian used every ounce of strength to suppress that thought.
His temples throbbed, cold sweat slid down his forehead, and his entire back was drenched.
His hands still steadied Sikong Sui’s shoulders, but his fingertips trembled slightly.
He didn’t dare think any further.
“Suisui…”
His voice was hoarse beyond recognition, as if squeezed out bit by bit from the depths of his throat, “Hold on… I’ll go get the suppressant.”
Sikong Sui, dazed, grabbed his sleeve, her fingers clutching tightly.
Her lips moved a few times, uttering some indistinct syllables. Sikong Nian lowered his head, bringing his ear close to her mouth, and finally made out what she was saying.
“Xie Ren… left…”
Sikong Nian’s heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something.
Not because Xie Ren had left, but because during her rut period, at her most vulnerable and in need of an Alpha’s comfort, she had called Xie Ren’s name.
Sikong Nian closed his eyes, forcing all inappropriate emotions back into the deepest, darkest recesses.
Then he scooped Sikong Sui up from the floor, carried her back to her room, and laid her on the bed.
He turned and walked out of the room to fetch the spare suppressant.
His mind still echoed with that thought—
Were all Omegas as adorable as Suisui?